We have a sign stating our price for bulk candy: $6.48 for half of a pound. Naturally, no one reads it.
A customer has three bags, full to the brim, of little stuff like jellybeans and sour strips. I already know this is going to be bad by the pompous expression on her face.
Me: “That is going to be [roughly $78 plus tax].”
Customer: “For candy?!”
Me: “Yes Ma’am, it is $6.48 for half a pound. $12.96 for one pound. Your bags weighed slightly over six pounds.”
Customer: “Give me the employee discount!”
Me: “Are you a team member?”
Customer: “Yes, now give me my discount!”
Me: *Doubting it but playing along* “Please provide your company ID.”
Customer: “I don’t have it!”
Me: *Shrugging* “Then I can’t help you.”
Customer: “GIVE ME MY DISCOUNT!”
Me: *Firmly* “Not unless you provide ID.”
At this point, I am done. For an employee discount, you have to provide proof of employment, no exceptions, and have to sign a paper. This is drilled into us all the time.
Customer: “Let me talk to your manager!”
Grateful that she said the magic words, I call the manager and tell him what’s going on, away from the screaming customer. Blessedly, though our manager is newly appointed, he has a spine of steel.
Manager: “Ma’am, my employee told you that she can’t give you the discount without proof of employment. Either provide it or get out.”
Customer: *Losing it completely* “YOU SHOULDN’T CHARGE SO MUCH FOR SOME STUPID F****** CANDY YOU CAN GET ANYWHERE! IT IS ROBBERY! IT IS SIN!”
Manager: *With a bored expression* “Okay, now I am calling mall security.”
The manager’s indifference turns the customer up to 100; it’s kind of glorious to watch. He picks up the phone and dials, giving our store name. That is as far as he can get before the woman explodes so loud that security can hear it over the phone.
Customer: “GIVE ME MY G**D*** MOTHERF****** DISCOUNT, YOU SON OF A B****! I AM HIGH UP IN THE COMPANY! I KNOW THE PRESIDENT! I GET FIFTY PERCENT OFF!”
Manager: “If you can’t prove it, you can’t get the discount. But as an ’employee,’ you already knew this, didn’t you?! So, I don’t know why you’re throwing a tantrum.”
Of course, he was now goading her on, but this was simply to distract her for long enough to let security arrive.
We were treated to a delightful rant about how she was high up enough that the rules and policies didn’t apply to her. She told us that if she wanted to shut this store down permanently, she could. She threatened that once she called the president, he was going to get us all fired and then sent to jail for refusing her.
Security came at a run and this finally cut her tirade short. Apparently, she didn’t think my manager had actually called and was speechless to find that people in uniform were telling her to come with them. She meekly allowed them to escort her off mall property.
Sadly, because she had mixed multiple kinds of candy in a single bag, we couldn’t just put it back, so I had to damage all of it.
I spent the evening pondering how pride could have kept her from admitting she was wrong, but somehow didn’t prevent her from making a complete fool of herself with blatantly obvious lies.
