A Shower Of Complaints

, , , , | Right | September 21, 2020

I work graveyard shift for a statewide chain of convenience stores/truck stops that has an affiliation with a much larger national chain. This larger chain has a rewards program that includes a free shower for every set number of gallons of fuel purchased, and we are able to redeem the showers which are automatically loaded onto the customer’s loyalty card when they pay for the fuel.

Customer: “I would like a shower.”

He hands over his card to be swiped. After swiping the card:

Me: “I am sorry, sir, but you have no showers left on your card.”

Customer: “That is not possible. I fueled in [Other City With National Chain] and had one shower on the card.”

Me: “Sir, our system shows that there are no showers left on the card. Did you use the shower when you fueled at [Prior Location]?”

Customer: “No. I have one shower on the card. I will get the receipt.”

He runs off and comes back a few minutes later with a receipt printed from the national chain’s kiosk. This kiosk can provide receipts up to a week back.

Me: “Sir, have you fueled since four days ago?”

Customer: “No. It says here I have one shower, so give me my shower.”

At this point, one of the assistant managers has come in and overhears the conversation.

Assistant Manager: “Sir, this receipt is from four days ago. You have nothing to prove that you have not redeemed the shower in that time, and our system, which is tied in with [National Chain]’s system, says that there are no showers on your card. If you believe that this is wrong, then call the customer support number on the back of the card, but we can do nothing for you.”

Customer: “No! It says right here!” *Points at the receipt* “I have one shower. I just printed this receipt from the kiosk!”

Assistant Manager: “This receipt is also from four days ago. It shows what you had then but not what you have now.”

The conversation continues like this for several more minutes until the customer finally relents and calls the service number.

Me: “I’m not sure which is worse: him trying to get a free shower, or if he was not lying, him not showering for four days.”

It’s A Good Thing She Couldn’t See The Look On Your Face

, , , , | Right | September 20, 2020

Customer: “I would like to get $6.50 on pump fifteen.”

Me: “All right, that will be $6.50.”

The customer slides over a $10 bill, a quarter, and a nickel.

Me: “Ma’am, this is not enough change. This is a nickel and a quarter.”

Customer: “Oh, I thought that was a quarter.”

She gets a quarter out of her pocketbook to replace the nickel.

Me: “I can understand; the newer nickels can kind of look like quarters because of the new designs on them.”

Customer: “Oh, no… I’m legally blind!”

She was driving.

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Have Barcode, Will Scan, Part 2

, , | Right | September 18, 2020

At the end of a transaction:

Me: “Would you like a receipt?”

Customer: “No, we’re going to [Other Shop], but they’ll know it’s not from there when they try to scan it.”

Me: “Sorry?”

Customer: “Well, their codes will be different from yours.”

Me: “What? Do you mean the barcodes?”

Customer: “Yeah.”

Me: “Er, the manufacturer puts the barcodes on, not us. They are universal; each item from each manufacturer has the same barcode.”

Customer: “…?”

Me: “…”

Customer: “Nah, we’ll be okay.”

Yep, we retail staff stand there putting barcodes, in exactly the same place, perfectly straight, on to every item of stock. Heck, it would be easier if they were just printed on the labels and different places could decide what to charge but still use them codes to identify the product.

Oh, hold on…

Related:
Have Barcode, Will Scan

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That’s Why The Tasmanian Devil Sounds Like They’re Always Coughing

, , , | Legal | September 16, 2020

A girl comes in and grabs a drink. She starts approaching the counter, but instead of getting in line, she just walks behind the counter like she works there, or owns the place. She grabs a pack of Newports and strolls out.

Me: “You can’t be back there, and need you to pay for that!”

She just walks out like she can’t hear me and it’s normal to just take what you want and go home.

I follow her out. I probably shouldn’t, and the boss will probably talk to me about it, but I am angry. I approach her, reach out and grab the box out of her hand there in the parking lot.

Thief: *Yelling* “I’m the Tasmanian devil, I can do whatever I want!”

I just walk around to the front door (the side door locks behind you) and she’s following me, still calling herself the Tasmanian devil. She tries to follow me in.

Me: “You’re not allowed back here.”

She stands in the entrance blocking the door screaming random “Tasmanian Devil” stuff at me. I want her to go away, so I call the cops. She honestly seemed unhinged and I am alone at that moment and a little scared. She’s yelling, but as soon as she realizes I’m calling the cops she takes off.

A few minutes later a police car pulls up, and the officers ask me what happened. While talking, they get a report that someone found her a few blocks away.

Officer: “Will you go identify her?”

My coworker is back at that point and says it’s okay, so I jump in the police car. We pull up to see her talking to an officer. The officers get out of the car and she bolts. She starts sprinting faster than any smoker should run. So the officers get back in the car, turn on the sirens and speed after her for a few blocks with me in the back seat! 

They cuff her and ask for ID. She refuses to tell who she is. They get her in the back of the other cop car, and search their system for the “Tasmanian Devil.” Her picture pops up on the screen. Turns out she’s a serial shoplifter.

So, all-in-all, quite an adventure for an $8 pack of Newports!

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Gee, It’s Almost Like Those Laws Exist For Similar Reasons

, , , , , , | Romantic | August 31, 2020

My husband and I are on our way home from somewhere and stop at our local convenience store for a fountain drink. As per recent city bylaw, we are both wearing masks. As we leave, he starts complaining about other people in the store who aren’t masked.

Husband: “I don’t like wearing a mask either, but…” 

He continues into a long rant about how we’re supposed to wear them.

At this point, we’re in the car, and I’m struggling to put my seatbelt on while holding my drink.

Husband: “Hon, we’re only a few blocks from home; you don’t need to put on your seatbelt.”

He then continued with his rant about people not following the law. I decided not to point out the irony.

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