My friend makes one-of-a-kind accessories such as bags, belts, jewellery, etc., which she sells online and at local markets. I have one of her handbags which I use every day, and I often get random people commenting on it. 

One day, I’m shopping in a smallish independent clothing store. There are only two other customers, a mother and her teenage daughter, and the cashier in the shop.

Girl: “Oh, I love that bag.”

Me: “Thanks. I do, too.”

Girl: “Where are they? I want one.”

Me: “Sorry, but this isn’t from here. My friend made it.”

Girl: “Give it to me.”

She holds her hand out.

Me: “No, I’m not giving you my handbag. You can find similar ones at some markets, or she sells them online. Each one is a one of a kind.”

Girl: “No, I want that one. Give it to me now!”

Me: “Yeah, not happening.”

I turn away to look at something and she grabs hold of my bag and pulls on it. I just swing my body away, causing her to stumble.

Mother: “What the h***?! You just assaulted my daughter. Give her the bag now!”

Me: “Look, your daughter tried to take my handbag. I didn’t touch her.”

Mother: “So, she wants the bag. You need to give it to her. You can get another one.”

Me: “Lady, I’m not giving her my handbag. Now back off.”

Mother: *Screaming* “Help! This b**** just assaulted a minor and stole her bag. Help!”

Cashier: “You! You’ve both been warned before about causing problems in here. You both need to leave.”

Mother: “What?! She just assaulted my baby and stole her bag. Call the police. I’ll have you both arrested and the shop shut down.”

Cashier: “I saw the whole thing, and so did the cameras which also record audio. Now you both need to leave unless this young lady wants to press charges for attempted theft.”

The daughter started crying while the mother turned some interesting shades of red before pushing a display over and grabbing her daughter by the arm, and they both ran out the door.

I helped clean up the display but decided against pressing charges. After speaking more with the cashier who turned out to be the owner, I found out that they’d only just been allowed back in the store after harassing an older lady over a pair of glasses that the mother wanted. I was given a discount on my purchases and passed along my friend’s details. Now, the shop sells my friend’s accessories and I work part-time in the shop.

I am shopping in town with my nine-year-old son in tow. Perhaps it’s not such a good idea, but I go into a shop to get myself some new underwear.

We’re in the area where they sell oversized underwear and my cheeky monkey of a son points to a rack of some of the larger items and says in his high-pitched and penetrating voice:

Son: “Look, Mum! Hats for twins!”

And he scampered off, sniggering.

Trouble is, I couldn’t stop laughing. I was still tittering when I got to the checkout, and unfortunately, I set off the member of staff. They say laughter is infectious. I infected the entire store, basically.

When we got outside I gave him one of my famous punishments that aren’t really punishments.

Me: “Just for that, we aren’t going to go up to Buckingham Palace to meet the Queen this afternoon.”

A woman comes storming out of the dressing room while I am browsing a rack nearby. She gets right up in the face of the attendant.

Customer: “Your clothes are broken! It says it should fit but it’s not fitting, and I’ve tried everything! It isn’t working!”

She continues to shout in this vein for about half a minute, not letting the attendant get a word in edgewise. Finally, she pauses to take a deep breath, and the attendant is able to speak up.

Attendant: “Ma’am, it might fit better if you straighten the shoulder.”

The woman just stares at her blankly, possibly confused that her verbal punching bag was talking back. The attendant reaches over and fixes something about the shoulder of the shirt the woman was trying on, leading to the lady continuing to stare for a few moments, before finally rebooting.

Customer: *Very cutesy voice* “Oh… Well, that’s much better. See!”

She then turned around and stalked back into the dressing room, while I shared a commiserating head-shake with the attendant.

I own a small studio boutique where I sell clothes. Everything is designed by me and handmade by me or my assistant. Our materials are all carefully sourced and with various quality certificates. I’ve operated my studio as a physical shop for years and started selling online about a year before this incident. We live in a country where English is not the official language.

One day, a woman in her mid-thirties walks in and she’s on the offence right from the start.

Me: “Hello, how can I help you today?”

Customer: “I bought a dress online and the quality is absolutely horrible. How can anybody call these rags clothes?! I want a refund right now!“

I’m in shock as I pride myself on the quality of my label. I try to remain calm on the outside while slowly panicking inside.

Me: “Oh, I am very sorry to hear that. We try to offer the best quality we can. May I see the dress? What is it that bothers you exactly? Maybe we can fix it. Did a seam break or something?”

The woman now is digging through her tote bag and continues her rant.

Customer: “The fabric is absolute garbage! I wouldn’t even mop the floors with it. And the seams look like they would break apart in the first wash! I don’t want you to fix anything! I want my money back! I ordered the dress for a special occasion and I’d rather stay home than go there in this piece of s***! Here! Look at this! Would you go anywhere in this and not feel ashamed of your looks?”

With every sentence, my heart drops more, and I’m horrified to hear her trash our work like that. Usually, we get really good feedback for our products. Once she finds what she’s looking for in her bag, she pulls out a piece of clothing in a print I don’t recognize and tosses it practically into my face. I inspect it closer, thinking maybe it’s an older model which she bought from some sort of online aftermarket, and I find the brand label which is not ours.

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t refund—”

Customer: “What do you mean, you can’t refund me?! I paid good money for it, I’m unhappy with the product I received, and I want my money back! If you don’t refund me, I’ll report you to the Customers Protection Agency!”

Me: “This isn’t our product. See this label? This is not our logo; our label looks completely different. I can’t refund you for something that we don’t sell.”

Customer: “I don’t care whose logo that is! I bought it online! I have a right to get a refund for online orders!”

Me: “You bought it from our online store?”

Customer: “No, I got it off [Knock-Off Website]. Your store is too expensive. I can get things four times cheaper from there than from your place.”

Me: “So, let me get this straight. You ordered it from somewhere else where they sell cheap clothes and you want us to buy it off from you because the quality is subpar?”

Customer: “Yes! Why is that so hard to understand?! You all sell stuff online; you are closer to me for returning things!”

Me: “It doesn’t work like that. You can file a complaint to the original seller.”

Customer: “I can’t! I don’t speak enough English to explain the problem. Besides, you probably order your products from the same place!”

Me: “No, all our products are handmade in the next room by me or my assistant. I suggest you get a friend or family member to help you with the refund. I cannot refund this for you.”

The woman shoots daggers at me for a few seconds before she starts to storm out.

Customer: “Fine! I’m never shopping here again!”

Related:
Refunder Blunder, Part 52
Refunder Blunder, Part 51
Refunder Blunder, Part 50
Refunder Blunder, Part 49
Refunder Blunder, Part 48

As I’ve advanced in my pregnancy, I’ve found that I need new underwear, and the store I get them from usually has them at good quality for pretty cheap. Imagine my delight when I walk in the day I decide to go shopping, and the prices on certain styles are now on clearance for an even lower price! However, there’s a snafu at the register that leaves me and both cashiers more than a little confused.

Cashier #1: “Huh. This particular pair is ringing up as a sweater. Just go grab another one from that clearance table, I guess.”

Me: “Sure thing.”

I get another pair in the same style and print… and the same thing happens! [Cashier #1] sighs in frustration.

Cashier #1: “I’m worried this is gonna be an issue with the whole batch…”

She calls [Cashier #2] over, and [Cashier #2] sees that the barcodes are the same.

Cashier #2: “Yeah, that’s gonna be a no-go on this particular style if they both rang that way. Ma’am, so that you have the right number of pairs for the sale, can you go pick something different?”

I did just that, and sure enough, it worked. I was very happy with the sale, but I’m glad I was the only one in the store, because as [Cashier #1] rang me up, poor [Cashier #2] then had to go through all the clearance bins and clear out the pairs that had the barcode issue. I don’t even know how you would fix something like that.