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Doing A Decent Job

| Birmingham, AL, USA | Awesome Customers

(I’m a customer in this story. I’ve just gotten off of work at a local fast food restaurant, but I’ve got my jacket over my clothes and I’m carrying a purse. I’m killing time before meeting a friend, so I’ve decided to check out the sales at the clothing store in the same strip mall as my restaurant. I’m looking at some ugly sweaters, opening them up and then folding them back. There’s about 20 different sweaters on this display.)

Voice Behind Me: “Ma’am, excuse me?”

(I turn around, and there’s a customer and her son standing there.)

Customer: “Could you help me find—”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t work here.”

Customer: *blinks* “But you’re folding the clothes.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I find that it really makes an employee’s day when they don’t have to go back and refold everything you’ve wrecked. Makes you a decent person.”

(The customer blinked a few more times while watching me stand there with a Darth Vader Christmas sweater in my hand, then ushered her son away in the other direction, still clearly confused. I continued to unfold the sweaters, check them out, then fold them back up. Two more confused me for workers while I did so, and the above conversation was repeated yet again, to more disoriented looks.)

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Will Make You See Red

| UK | Health & Body

Customer: “Excuse me; can you help me find this, please? It was on the fitting room discard rack.”

Me: “I can certainly try, madam, but perhaps—”

Customer: “Great!” *grabs me and drags me to the women’s section*

(I spend the next twenty minutes trying to find the right shirt for her, but I’m having difficulty discerning one from another.)

Customer: “What the f*** is wrong with you?! That’s green! What are you, colour-blind?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “Oh!”

(The customer walked away and found a worker who had been on the department the entire time, looking over at me sympathetically without bothering to help. They found the right shirt within thirty seconds.)

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The Gift That Keeps On Giving

| Stoneham, MA, USA | At The Checkout, Money, Non-Dialogue

A woman comes in with a gift card. I scan it and inform her she has $80 to spend. Thrilled, she goes off to shop. About a half hour later she returns with a large pile of clothes. I scan it, and I inform her that the total is $30 after the gift-card. Thrilled again, she goes off to do more shopping in the sales racks, and I void out her transaction, as I can’t suspend a transaction that’s using a gift card.

A bit later, she comes back with even more clothes. I scan it all again and tell her that her total is now $70 after the gift card. She seems even more thrilled, and I realize that she hasn’t understood that she OWES $70, not that she has $70 left to spend. I attempt to explain it to her, but she runs off, and as there’s a line, I can’t leave the register to chase after her. I void it again, hoping that she’ll understand the next time around. I try to get her attention whenever she comes near the register, but she ignores me.

Finally, she comes back with more clothes and her husband. She tells me to scan her now huge pile. Diligently I do, reminding her that her gift card is only $80. I inform her of her total before I use the gift card, then tell her the new total after, which is over $100.

Once again she’s thrilled and turns around to do more shopping, but her husband catches her by the arm. He asks me to repeat the total, and I do, explaining clearly that this is the price after the gift card. The husband firmly tells her they’re not spending that much on clothes.

Finally, the woman seems to understand that the gift card won’t cover it all, and spends close to 20 minutes picking and choosing which items she is keeping, holding up the line because she refuses to move aside for anyone.

Finally, she leaves with her $80 worth of merchandise, frowning at me like I had been trying to trick her, while the husband shakes his head in exasperation.

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That’s Rich Coming From You

| Brampton, ON, USA | Bad Behavior, Money

(I work as a sales associate at a very popular children’s store in a very busy mall. As we are cashing out a customer we are supposed to capture their email so we can send them coupons and promotions. A customer returned $300 worth of clothes and is now making a purchase.)

Me: “Would you like to leave your email so we can send you a 20% coupon for your next purchase?”

Customer: “No, I am rich.”

(I look at her with a little look of shock and she points around the store.)

Customer: “I make more money than any of you!”

(After working a full shift during ‘back to school,’ I lose my patience.)

Me: “With all due respect, if you really are as rich as you say, don’t you think it would have made more sense to donate the $300 worth of children’s clothes to a charity?”

(Customer finished the transaction, grabbed her purse, and left – flipping me off!)

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I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 22

| MO, USA | Bad Behavior, Family & Kids

(When I was twelve years old, I was about 5’2” or 5’3” – about 155 or 160 cm for you non-Americans. Not the tallest girl in my class, but taller than average for my age. One day, my mother takes me and my younger sister shopping. While she is in the fitting room with my sister, she tells me to wait just outside the door. Bored, and seeing that a display table of shirts is a stirred up mess, I start folding shirts.)

Customer: “Hey! I’m talking to you!”

(I realize a woman I’d heard and tuned out is looking at me.)

Me: “Me?”

Customer: “Yes, you! Where are your capris?”

Me: “Uh, I… I don’t…”

Customer: “Don’t give me that. I know you sell them! They’re in your flyer.”

Me: “I don’t know.”

(The woman steps into my personal space and raises her voice, berating me about a sale being advertised. I am frozen, wide-eyed, and speechless. A sales associate on the other side of the store starts toward us, but my mom comes out of the fitting room first.)

Mom: “You don’t talk to her like that!”

Customer: “She was being rude to me!”

Mom: “I don’t care! You don’t talk to her like that; you don’t need to talk to her at all!”

Employee: *finally arriving* “Ladies, how can I help you?”

Customer: “Are you the manager? This girl ignored me and then refused to help me!”

(I am wearing a girly-girl sundress, while the store uniform is a polo shirt and khaki pants.)

Employee: “She doesn’t work here, but I can help you.”

Customer: “But she WAS working!”

Mom: *catching on* “She’s twelve!

Customer: “Then WHY was she FOLDING SHIRTS?!”

Employee: “Just to be nice. Ma’am, what do you need? How can I help you?”

(The employee guided her away from us, while the customer threw a parting shot over her shoulder that I shouldn’t fold shirts if I didn’t work there.)

Mom: *loud enough for her to hear, and earning a dirty look* “Next time a strange adult yells at you, you run away from them and you find me.”

(Later, the employee came back and made a point of thanking me for being helpful – even though I later saw her refolding the shirts more neatly. And for a few years it was a running joke in my family to ask me WHY I was FOLDING the laundry.)

Related:

I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 21

I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 20

I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 19

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