A client commissioned me to direct a commercial for a clothing line and then asked me to write a concept because they couldn’t afford a copywriter. I submitted a concept about a girl and a piano. Two months went by and I didn’t hear a word about the commercial.

Then, I got this phone call.

Client: “You’re shooting your commercial in two days. We got you a model for the shoot.”

Me: “Two days? The boards aren’t even made.”

Client: “You make them.”

Me: “Okay. Can the model play the piano? Half the commercial is her playing the piano.”

Client: “No, she’s a model.”

Me: “But is she a model who can play the piano?”

Client: “No.”

Me: “You’re saying that our commercial, which involves a girl playing a piano, has a girl who can’t play the piano?”

Client: “You can fake it to music in post.”

Me: “What music? I haven’t had time to pick any music.”

Client: “I’ll pick the music after the shoot.”

Me: “We need to know what music we’re using if she’s going to mimic it.”

Client: “No, it’ll be fine, she doesn’t. You said you needed a piano, right?”

Me: “For the piano playing, yes. It’s all on the list. HR has a copy.”

Client: “Okay, I’ll book it. Anything else I need to book? I got you two cars.”

Me: “What about the car mount?”

Client: “Wait, do you want the car mount or the cars? Make up your mind.”

Me: “Why would I want a car mount without a car? Both. I still need to approve the girl, the wardrobe, props, etc.”

Client: “I’ll do it; you don’t need to know about it. I’ll see what I can change on the list.”

Me: “When are we shooting this?”

Client: “Friday. Shut up for a second.”

He puts me on hold. Five minutes later…

Me: “So, you’re saying that nothing is ready for the shoot that’s in less than thirty-six hours?”

Client: “That’s none of your business. Just shoot it. We’ve got a good location. You’ll see it on Friday.”

He hung up.

Thursday afternoon, I learnt that nothing had actually been booked, including the model and location. Thursday night, the shoot was cancelled.

It was after the holiday rush had ended at my [American Clothing Store], and I was working the opening shift on the register. A middle-aged woman came in and told me she wanted to return a coat.

I discovered that it was a different label. To be fair, the coat she was trying to return looked very similar to the coats we sold, but it wasn’t one of ours.

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t return this because it wasn’t purchased here.”

Customer: “No, I bought it here. I need my money back.”

Me: “See this label?” *Shows her the label* “It says [Brand]. It’s a [Brand] coat. We only sell [American Clothing Store] stuff here.”

Customer: “I’m sure I bought it here, and you need to give me my money back now!“

Me: “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.”

Customer: “I want to talk to your manager!”

Me: “All right, but she’s just going to tell you the same thing.”

My occasionally cool manager came over and I explained the situation. The manager took the coat, confirmed the label wasn’t ours, told the woman exactly what I had, and attempted to hand the coat back to the woman.

Customer: “No! I’m not taking that! Give me my money back! I bought that here!”

She refused to take the coat and argued with the manager for a solid hour in what was basically a kindergarten, “Yes, I did,” “No, you didn’t,” argument. Finally:

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

She snatched the coat and stomped out the door.

Manager: “She didn’t shop here in the first place.”

Related:
Refunder Blunder, Part 59
Refunder Blunder, Part 58
Refunder Blunder, Part 57
Refunder Blunder, Part 56
Refunder Blunder, Part 55

I work in a clothing store, in the shoe department. Our store is set up so that customers have to get in line when they want to get a shoe scanned to check to see if we have the size. I helped the lady at the front of the line to get the shoe size that she wanted.

After I helped her, another woman came up to me and started yelling at me.

Woman: “I got out of line to sit in one of your chairs, so I was here first!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

I thought that would be the end of it. But no. She kept going. 

Woman: “I’ve been waiting for you, and I just wanted to sit down, but now you’re helping someone who hasn’t been waiting as long as I have!”

She continued rambling until one of my coworkers came to my rescue and helped her.

Why get mad at me? How am I supposed to know you’re in line when you’re not in line?

When I was pregnant, my body obviously began changing size in various places. I managed to keep using my old bras for about seven months, but then my chest started to feel very restricted. That and after having the baby my “normal” bras obviously wouldn’t give me very easy access, so I decided to go to a specialty store to get measured properly (I’ve always measured myself at home) and to get advice on what kind of nursing bras were available. I was willing to pay the higher retail price instead of buying them online because I wanted the personal service.

On arrival, there were two saleswomen and one other customer in the store. I started looking around and couldn’t see what I was looking for. After a couple of minutes, I approached the till where the saleswomen were standing idly.

Me: “Do you have any nursing bras?”

Saleswoman: “Yes, they’re out the back. I’ll bring you some.”

She brought me two bras which seemed to be identical but in two different colours. Then, she immediately left me to “have a think”. I checked the price tag and they were over £30 each.

After awkwardly standing there holding the bras for a couple of minutes before realizing that I wasn’t going to get any advice and definitely not a fitting, I left and went online to a popular retailer and found a set of three for around £17.

Now to pick a size. Fortunately, the set I had selected came in S, M, or, L rather than typical sizes. I decided to go for medium after reading the reviews. Unfortunately, I had a moment of baby brain and accidentally selected the autofill when I checked out, which was S.

In my haste, I also failed to notice the estimated delivery date, which was three weeks from the order date. “Oh, well,” I thought. “That’s inconvenient, but it’s my own fault. Let’s try it on when it arrives and see what happens.” So I waited for delivery.

And waited.

The delivery date passed and I received nothing. I checked the tracking and it said it “may be a little late”. I could apply for a refund after a certain date. I waited until the date, hardly able to believe my good luck that I was getting an out after my booboo with the size. The date came and passed; no delivery. Win!

I applied for a refund and got my money back, and then I went to a different seller to buy another set of three. By this point, I was a few weeks away from nine months pregnant. I impatiently waited for my order and finally received three nursing bras which were size M. Bliss.

But there’s more!

I was happily using my various nursing bras for several months when I got a parcel delivered. “WTF?” I thought. “I’ve not ordered anything.” The box was badly damaged. In fact, it looked like it had been sat on by something heavy for a long time. Upon inspection, it seemed to be the first set of size S bras that never appeared and that I was refunded. They had finally arrived SEVEN MONTHS after ordering!

I contacted the website to say that they had finally arrived but were damaged, but given the delay, I was told to either keep or dispose of them. So, I opened them up to see if they actually would fit… and discovered I had “incorrectly” been sent size M.

And that’s the story of how, through one inept saleswoman, I got six bras for the price of one.

I have an entire wedding party come in for suits. I’m talking about the groom, groomsmen, both fathers, several uncles, and the bride’s grandfather.

Me: “So, when is the wedding?”

Them: “This afternoon!”