Using Some Scottish Tender Language

, , , , | | Right | July 21, 2019

(The customer is over six feet tall, Glaswegian, in his mid-50s, and looks ex-military. I am a fifteen-year-old girl, only 5’2”, working as a volunteer at a charity shop.)

Me: “That’ll be £24, please.”

Customer: *hands over a £50 Scottish note*

(I know exactly what’s coming.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t accept that.”

(At this point, I’d like to reiterate that I’m a volunteer shop assistant. I’m not being paid.)

Customer: “I beg your pardon?”

Me: “I said I’m really sorry, but I’m not allowed to accept that.”

Customer: “What d’you mean you’re—“ *he puts on an insulting Cockney, “little girl” voice, as if he’s imitating me* “—’not allowed to f****** accept that’?”

Me: *calmly* “I mean that I can’t accept that note. I’m really sorry, but my manag—“

Customer: “Oh, your manager says so?! You’re f****** kidding me! This is f****** legal currency! I cannae believe you English f***s will not let me pay for my own f****** clothes! This is a f****** disgrace!”

(He’s essentially shouting, and I’m in that space between being really angry and being close to tears.)

Me: “Sir, I’m really sor—“

Customer: “’SIR’?! Oh, you’re calling me ‘SIR’, now? How f****** dare you?! You think tryna plaster f****** manners over this is going to make it okay?! Take it!”

(He slams the money on the counter.)

Me: “Let me just get my manager…”

(I grab the phone behind me to call my manager down. My manager is a sweet, lady in her late 50s who loves the world but does not take attitude. She can hear that I’m upset, so when she comes downstairs she’s already fuming.)

Manager: “What’s the problem here?”

Customer: “I’ll tell you the f****** problem. This little b**** won’t let me pay for my f****** clothes.”

Manager: *visibly balks at the insult and turns to me* “Why not, love?”

Me: *terrified, points to the note on the counter*

Manager: *passes it back to him* “We accept neither £50 notes nor Scottish tender; this is both. You can pay by card if you don’t have other money.”

Customer: “This is f****** unacceptable!”

Manager: “You can pay by card or you can leave.”

Customer: “I’m going to be ringing your head office; this is a f****** disgrace!”

Manager: “And I will be ringing the police if you don’t leave right now. You’re harassing my staff. Get out.”

(The customer pushed the clothes off the counter, called me a b**** one last time, and stomped out. My manager bought me a strong cup of tea and a plate of biscuits, and gave me a hug.)

In Receipt Of A Crazy Request

, , , | | Right | July 10, 2019

(In our charity shop, if a customer wants to return something, we offer an exchange or a credit note, as long as they have their receipt. We always offer a receipt, but usually, for smaller purchases, customers don’t want one. A customer has bought something for £4.95 — about $6.50 — and declined the receipt, so I crumple it and throw it in the bin. Later that day, they return.)

Customer: “I bought this earlier.” *shows me the item in their bag*

Me: “Yes, I remember.”

Customer: “I want my receipt.”

Me: “Did you want to return it?”

Customer: “No, but I didn’t take my receipt. I need it.”

Me: “I threw it away because you didn’t want it.”

Customer: “Can you print another one?”

Me: “Sorry, no, we can only reprint the last receipt, and I’ve had other customers since you were here.”

Customer: “What did you do with my receipt, then?”

(I point at the bin, now full of receipts, price tags, dirt from when I swept behind the counter, sweet wrappers, sticky tape, and several used teabags.)

Me: “It’s in there, sorry.”

Customer: “Okay, I’ll wait. I want it.”

Me: “You seriously want it?”

Customer: “Yes.”

(I picked through that filthy bin, unfolding bits of paper, for ten minutes before I finally found her receipt. It was wet from a teabag and had tape stuck to it covered in dirt. I offered it to her. She declined.)

Some Charitable Information

, , , , , | | Working | June 27, 2019

(I am browsing in a charity shop and pick up a secondhand top from a national store well-known for being very cheap. I recently shopped at that store and bought several of these tops brand new. I realise the charity shop has made a mistake in pricing. I take the top to the cashier.)

Me: “I don’t want this, but I thought I should let you know it’s on sale at [Store] for £1.75 brand new.”

Cashier: *confused* “Okay?”

Me: “You’ve got it priced at £2.95.”

Cashier: “Yes.”

Me: “It’s cheaper to buy it new at [Store].”

Cashier: *sounding annoyed and glaring at me* “Well, it is for charity, you know!”

(Yeah, good luck with that…)

Unfiltered Story #154741

, , , | | Unfiltered | June 13, 2019

(I’m watching two suspicious looking men browsing at the men’s clothes before the taller and bulkier one comes to the till)

Man: I want a discount on these items!

Me: *Raises an eyebrow* I can’t give you a discount. its company policy.

Man: But I am homeless! Have you not seen me on the streets?! You are a charity, you should be giving this stuff away for free.

Me: *Puts hand on his hips* No I haven’t seen you on the street and i’m sorry about your situation…But you are in a Charity Shop. Shop being the word of importance meaning you have to buy the goods in it. I still can’t give you a discount, it is company policy.

Man: But you get this stuff for free!

Me: And the money gained from selling it goes towards the terminally ill.

Man: Hmph! Fine.

*He then proceeds to take out a giant wad of £50 notes and pays for the items with a £20. More than enough money to put a deposit on a house or rent somewhere to live for quite some time. Clearly lying.*

Got Her Quirkiness Down Pat

, , , , , | | Right | May 22, 2019

(I am assisting one of our regular elderly customers in trying to find a product for her pet.)

Me: “I don’t think we have any more of these pet wipes, but it can’t hurt to check…”

Regular: “Oh, hello, doggie! Aren’t you handsome!”

(Our charity shop is pet-friendly, but there is an assistance dog working beside his owner, complete with a harness emblazoned with, “ASSISTANCE DOG — DO NOT PET.” The owner, another regular customer, looks a bit uncomfortable and sick of this kind of thing, so I jump in to prevent a dispute.)

Me: “You know, [Regular], that dog’s working, so you basically just did the same as going up to a police officer and patting him on the head!”

Regular: “Oh, I have no problems doing that all the time, love!”

Me: “You know, [Regular], I believe that. I really do.”

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