(I work as a nanny and I’m in charge of all things relating to this child, including clothes. Two days before the beginning of school, the kid decides that the formal uniform shoes she wears seven or eight times a year are no longer working for her — she wants what her friends have this year — and her parents ask me to go shopping with her, as she will need them for the first day of school. I spend half an hour calling every single shoe store within a half-hour radius to check and see if they have a specific brand and size of black Mary-Janes. I’m down to the last two stores, which are part of a chain. I call the closer branch and they say they didn’t have them. I call the second branch.)

Me: “Hi. I’m looking for black Merrill Mary-Janes in girls size nine. Do you have them in stock?”

Store Manager: “Let me put you on hold for a minute to check.” *hold music* “No, but it looks like our other branch in [Closer Town] has them.”

Me: “Wow… That’s weird; I just got off the phone with them and they said they were out.”

Store Manager: *silence*

Me: “But I guess they were able to find them! Good luck for us!”

Store Manager: “We can have someone drive them over to our store in an hour. Just ask at the checkout.” *click*

(I give him my name, and then go through the process of getting a small child dressed and fed and buckled into the car. We drive twenty-five minutes to the store. When we arrive, I tell an associate that the manager has some Mary-Janes on hold for me. When she comes out with the wrong brand box, I know this isn’t good.)

Me: “These aren’t the brand I need. They are supposed to be Merrill.”

Store Associate: “This is what was put aside… I’ll get the manager.”

(After a five minute wait:)

Store Manager: “Is there a problem?”

Me: “Yes, I told you I needed a specific brand, and you said you had them. This isn’t what I asked for.”

Store Manager: “I never said we had Merrill; I said we had black Mary-Janes in the right size.”

Me: “You heard what I said about the other store and led me to believe that you had what I needed. You knew exactly what you were doing, figuring that after driving all the way here with a kid, two days before school, I’d take what I can get. But that’s definitely not going to happen! And you know what? We’ve been buying shoes for this kid from here for since before she could walk, and that’s not going to happen anymore. We’re leaving.” 

(In the car, I explained to my charge that the man lied to us, so we’re not shopping at this chain ever again. Her mom has no time for bull like this and agreed, so now we get shoes anywhere but that chain. I also wrote to the head office of the company about this, but I’m not holding my breath to hear back.)

(The return policy at my shoe store does not accept any shoes that have been worn. A customer and his two children come in to return a pair of shoes. I open the box and see the son’s shoes covered in mud and dirt; they have obviously been worn.)

Me: “I am sorry, but I cannot accept these shoes because they have been worn.”

Customer: “My son has never worn these shoes.”

(I hold up a shoe covered in mud.)

Me: “Sir, these shoes have mud on them. I cannot accept worn shoes.”

Customer: “My son has not worn these shoes!”

(This exchange continues for some time, with him consistently denying his son has worn the shoes. Meanwhile, his son is cheerfully telling all the places he has worn the shoes.)

Son: “Daddy, I wore the shoes to grandma’s house!”

Son: “Daddy, I wore the shoes to the zoo!”

(And so on. The customer completely ignores his son and eventually storms out. He takes his “unworn” shoes with him. However, there are an elderly gentleman and his wife who have heard the entire exchange.)

Gentleman: “If I wore these shoes to the zoo, could I return them?”

(I told him that although it was against the policy, I would let him!)

(So my dad is taking my brothers and I shopping for clothes. One of my brothers is 8, and i am 16 at the time)
Me: (8 yr)! Start acting a bit mature! I was bad, but not THIS bad!
(He decides to slap my rear, chuckling)
Me: Hey! Dont touch that!
(An employee pulls me aside real quick)
Employee: its okay, its all on the security tapes. You can blackmail him when you get older.
Me: oh my god are you serious?
(She burned a dvd of all the footage i needed. I now keep the disk in my safe, waiting for my time for revenge)

Me [answering the phone]: Hello, thank you for calling [clothing store], this is [my name].

Customer: Hi, I need to speak to the manager.

Me: I’m sorry ma’am, the manager has just gone her lunch break now. Is there anything I can help you with?

Customer: Oh no, it must be the manager.

Me [thinking it’s a customer complaint and this particular customer is just a difficult one]: No problem. Well like I said she had literally walked out the door for her lunch break when you rang, it’s unfortunate you just missed her. She has a 30 minute lunch break so you can either ring back in half an hour or I can take your name and phone number and have her call you back as soon as she returns.

Customer: Oh I’m not giving you my personal information.

Me: Ok…well you can try calling back in half an hour when she returns from her break. She will be available then.

Customer: *sigh* I don’t have time. It’s pretty urgent. Can you just, like, give me her mobile number or something?

Me [stunned]: Uh, no, sorry, I’m not permitted to give out employee’s personal information. And even if I could, the manager is currently on her lunch break. Unless it’s a store emergency, she is entitled to half an hour of uninterrupted break without having to worry about work.

Customer: But this IS an emergency! And I don’t have time for this! I demand to speak to the manager! I have an urgent customer inquiry and I don’t have time to talk to someone who doesn’t know what they are doing! Give me her mobile number so I can talk to the manager!

Me: Ma’am, please don’t talk to me like that. I am not giving you the manager’s personal mobile number. I have explained that the manager is on her break and offered you two options if you wish to speak to her, neither of which you are choosing to take. Now, unless there is anything that I can help you with, there are customers here that have been waiting that I need to also attend to.

Customer: This is disgraceful customer service. I am a customer that has an urgent inquiry to make, I have a party on tomorrow and need a dress ASAP, and I want to know if you have a particular dress in stock, and the only person who can help is not even in the store. I’m not coming to this store ever again!

Me [facepalming big time and in complete disbelief that’s all she needed the manager for]: Ma’am, I’m an employee of the store, my job title is Sales Assistant. I am definitely qualified to check on the system if we have a dress in store. You do not need the manager or her mobile number to check something as simple as an item search.

(I work in an outdoor clothing retail store that uses a hand-written chalkboard for our sidewalk sign. The sale has just changed this morning and, being in a rush to also change all the interior signs, and all the regular opening duties, I don’t go back to spell-check my sign. I normally have decent spelling so I’m not too worried about it. It gets busy right away and I am already trying to help five to six people when this older lady comes in — probably in her 70s — and just kind of stands near me while I am talking to another customer. I make eye contact and smile to acknowledge her and finish up with the customer I am helping.)

Me: “Do you need a hand with anything or have any questions?”

Older Lady: “Did you know your sign is spelled wrong?”

Me: *pauses* “Oh?”

Older Lady: “Yes, your sign is spelled wrong! The word ‘reduced’ is spelt with a C, not an S!”

Me: *already slightly annoyed because she is wasting my time when I have other customers who actually need my help* “Sorry about that. I will take a look and fix it when I have a moment.”

Older Lady: “You’d better fix it! It’s offensive to those of us who can actually spell!”

Me: *internally rolling my eyes* “Yes, I will fix it. Have a good day!”

(I turned away to help another customer before she could say anything else. She stomped out of the store probably thinking she had done her “good deed” for the day by saving us all from poor spelling. All I could think about while she was being so offended by our sign was how little she must know of what is going on in the world if an incorrectly spelled word is what she finds offensive. And next time? All it would take is a polite “Excuse me? Do you know your sign has a spelling error? Just letting you know,” versus practically throwing a tantrum in my store.)