Preventing Fraud, One Dollar At A Time

, , , , , | Right | September 14, 2017

(I am working a graveyard shift in the store and am currently alone. As a policy, we are to check IDs for all form of cards: credit, debit, player club cards, etc. I’ve had customers thank me for checking their IDs, and even very few get disgruntled because they had to pull their ID out, but nothing quite beats this transaction. A woman walks in, immediately goes to the food side and picks up a candy bar, then proceeds to give me her card.)

Me: “Can I see your ID please?”

Customer: *she gives me this blank look* “Why?”

Me: *pauses* “To… check your identity, ma’am.”

Customer: “But I wrote my name on the back of the card.”

Me: “Yes… I see, but I have to check a government issued ID to make sure the names match.”

Customer: “But can’t you just look and see my name on the card?”

Me: “Yes, I can, but that doesn’t verify that you’re you.” *She looks at me, still confused.* “Look at it this way: if I don’t see if you’re you, anyone can take your card and spend whatever they want.”

Customer: “But it’s just a dollar!”

Me: “Just a dollar HERE. If someone else did have your card, what’s to stop them from spending $50, $200, or more elsewhere if I didn’t verify identity?”

Customer: “I still don’t understand; it’s just a dollar!”

(She signed her slip and left, and I actually slid into the floor on my knees and popped my forehead against the counter in disbelief.)

Sexism Is His Profession

, , , , | Working | September 6, 2017

(I am a business professional, and I am a woman. I am sent to a business conference in Reno, Nevada. I am not much of a gambler, but I wander around the casino while others gamble. We are all dressed for the conference, in suits and professional clothing. I decide to play some slots just a little to pass the time, and I need cash. I go to the teller window to cash a check. This is our conversation:)

Me: “Hello. I’d like to cash a check for $40 please.”

Teller: “Tell me you’re a housewife.”

Me: “Why would I tell you that I’m a housewife, when I am not?”

Teller: “Because you’re a woman. If you tell me you’re a housewife, I will assume your husband will cover this check.”

Me: “…”

Teller: “If you don’t tell me you are a housewife, I will have to ask for all kinds of ID to make sure you can cover the check.”

Me: “So, this casino would trust a fictitious husband to cover this check, but not the professional woman who is here in person.”

Teller: “Yes.”

Me: “…”

HR Is Sexier Than You Think

, , , , , | Working | August 22, 2017

(This happens to my husband. One of his male coworkers, Coworker #1, in the warehouse where he works, has a birthday that week so there is a card going around for everyone to sign. Since he is good friends with Coworker #1, he jokingly writes ‘happy birthday, you sexy bitch’ in the card and then passes it along. About 20 minutes later, he is talking to a different coworker.)

Coworker #2: “Hey, did you sign the card for [Older Female Employee in HR]?”

(She is way on the other side of the casino and they have never given a card to her before, so he didn’t know it is her birthday.)

Husband: “No, but I signed [Coworker #1]’s.”

Coworker #2: “We don’t have one for him yet, though. Only [HR Employee].”

Husband: “…Oh, my god.”

(He runs to his manager.)

Husband: “DO YOU STILL HAVE THE CARD FOR [HR employee]?!”

Manager: “Yeah, why?”

Husband: “BECAUSE I WROTE ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOU SEXY B****’ IN IT!”

Manager: “What?! Why?!”

Husband: *taking the card and furiously scribbling out the inappropriate message* “BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS FOR [COWORKER #1]!”

Manager: *laughing* “You’re lucky I hadn’t sent it over yet.”

Forever Under 21

, , , , , | Working | June 20, 2017

(I just turned 21 a few days ago and so my mom and granny decide to take me with them to spend a weekend in Louisiana, to go to a few of the casinos there. I have a current driver’s license, but it dates to when I was 17 or 18 and has “UNDER 21 UNTIL [Date three-to-four days ago]” in red letters in the upper right hand corner. At the first two casinos we go to, they just looked at the ID and let me enter and sign up for their perks and the like, but the third one goes a little differently than we planned. Having gone through the song and dance twice before, I’ve already got my ID card in my hand because I already know what to expect.)

Security Guard: “May I check your ID?”

Me: “Sure thing; here it is.”

(I hand it to him and was expecting to get it back after a few seconds after he verified that I was 21, but NOPE!)

Security Guard: *handing my ID back* “Sorry, can’t let you in.”

(All three of us, almost at the same time, speak up about the decline.)

Me: “What?”

Mom: “And why not?”

Granny: “Excuse me?!”

Security Guard: “It says he’s under 21.”

(My mom and granny are both about to speak when I look at them, non-verbally telling them to let me deal with it.)

Me: “Excuse me.” *I hold the ID and point to the date listed under the “UNDER 21” notice which, as I stated before, was a few days ago* “It also say until [Date], see. ‘Under 21 until [Date].’”

Security Guard: “Sorry, but I can’t let you in with an ‘Under 21’ license due to the law.”

Me: “Excuse me, but I went to both [Casino #1] and [Casino #2] without an issue. Can you get your supervisor here, please?”

Security Guard: “He’ll tell you the same thing, but fine, if you want to waste my time!”

(He pulls what I presume to be an in-line mic and says what I can only guess to be a code for assistance. Afterwards, he motions to my mom and granny.)

Security Guard: “You two can go in, but he has to stay out here.”

Mom: “That is my SON! If you’re not going to let him in, I’m not going in!”

(He just releases a bit of a huff and says more code into the mic, and after a few moments the supervisor comes… followed by a police officer.)

Supervisor: “What seems to be the issue here?”

Security Guard: “He’s trying to get in but has an ‘Under 2’1 license and these two are claiming to be his mother and grandmother to try to get him in.”

Mom: “We aren’t ‘claiming to be’ anything!”

Supervisor: *to me* “Can I see your ID, please?”

(I hand him my ID and quickly I see the supervisor narrowing his eyes before dismissing the police officer.)

Supervisor: “Did you even bother to see his date of birth?”

Security Guard: “No, why should I? It very clearly says that he’s under 21.”

Supervisor: “It says he WAS under 21 until about a few days ago! His 21st birthday just passed!”

Security Guard: “Then why is it still there?!”

(At this point the supervisor just shakes his head and begins to escort my mom, granny, and me into the casino room and towards the sign up area for player cards. After we sign up and/or update information, he takes our player cards and walks me over to one of the machines that checks point balance and perks. He slips my card into it and then starts entering some codes and does the same for my mom’s and granny’s cards.)

Supervisor: “There you go. In addition to each of your birthday bonus and rewards — happy birthday to all three of you, by the way — I added another $21 in bonuses for the hassle. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other things I need to do.”

(I don’t know what the “other things” were but when I had to leave the area about 30 minutes later to use the restroom the original guard was gone and replaced with a new one. A quick flash of my player card and I was back in the area without problem.)

Muscling Up A Comeback

, , , , | Right | June 15, 2017

(It is near the end of my shift and my coworker has arrived to relieve me. As she’s putting her money in her register a guest approaches the counter.)

Guest: “Do you have a holding service?”

Me: “What’s that?”

Guest: “A holding service.” *he motions to the coat on his arm* “You know, some place I could leave this?”

Me: “Oh! No, sorry, sir; not here.”

Guest: “Aw, but this coat is heavy!”

Coworker: “Think how we feel carrying our purses around!”

Guest: “Yeah, but you ladies come equipped with something that helps you carry them.”

Me: *without missing a beat, I cheerily chirp back* “So do you. They’re called muscles.”

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