I’m taking a commuter train to a rock concert in downtown Salt Lake. Just before I board, I see an email from Discover Card saying my replacement credit card was on its way because it has been reported lost/stolen.

I think, “That’s strange, I don’t remember doing that. Is this a phishing email?”

But then I look in my wallet, and sure enough, my card is gone. I call Discover, and as it turns out, it fell out of my wallet when I tapped the fare payment card against the reader. I didn’t see it happen, but someone found it at the station. Rather than go out on a spending spree (because no one EVER checks ID or signature here), they called it in and reported it.

There are still plenty of good people in this world. They just don’t make very many headlines.

Customer: “I want to return this gift card.”

Me: “That’s a Visa gift card, sir. We don’t do refunds on any type of gift cards.”

Customer: “But I put $250 on it!”

Me: “I understand, sir, but all sales are final for gift cards.”

Customer: “Do you know how much I shop here?!”

Me: “I do not, sir, and regardless of how much that is, it doesn’t change the fact that all sales are final for gift cards.”

Customer: “Well then, what the f*** am I supposed to do with this?!”

Me: “Well, sir, it is a Visa gift card. You can use it anywhere. Even here.”

The customer opens their mouth to counter my point and then stops. They hold that position for a few seconds, mouth open, and then he resets, puts the card in his wallet, and wanders off… Not sure what happened there, but I like to think I made him realize my somewhat obvious point.

Related:
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 35
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 34
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 33
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 32
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 31

A customer is buying an item and taps their card. The machine alerts.

Me: “Sir, please insert your card.”

Customer: “Why?!”

Me: “The machine is asking you to.”

Customer: “Why?!”

Me: “It does that for some transactions. I have no control over it.”

The customer cautiously does so.

Me: “Please put in your PIN.”

Customer: “Are you gonna steal my identity?!”

Me: “No, I don’t want to be you.”

Customer: *Entering PIN.* “Why not?!”

Me: “For one, your $1.02 purchase just declined.”

It was a rather quiet summer night, and we were nearing our closing time when a car with a bunch of rowdy guys came up on drive-thru (they were so loud the poor cashier had to take off her headphones, and we could hear them from the kitchen, how to this day I still wonder).

They made a huge order for every type of chicken snack we had on the menu. This included the snack-sized chicken bites, nuggets, strips, and some spicy chicken ball skewers that we had for a limited time.

The manager had to ask the cooks to help because it was more than the fryers could handle. It took a while to cook and pack.

While their order was cooking and they had been quoted on how long it would take. The driver of the rowdy car handed the cashier a credit card to pay. The order came out to around $200, and it was declined.

After asking her to try again and the card being declined again, the driver said he would come in and pay with cash. Taking him at his word, the cashier waved him through; however, we suddenly heard the sound of rubber peeling and then a loud “Thunk” coming from the parking area.

It took a second, and we all sighed. They had bolted and, in the process, hit the pothole that was right in front of the drive-thru.

Turns out they had found that credit card, and the owner had deactivated it before they had a chance to use it. The cashier who took their order looked white as a sheet before the manager calmed her down, saying she did nothing wrong and took the card into the office.

As for all the food we had made, the manager counted everything and marked it all as waste and, with a big smile, said, “Take whatever you want, it’s on me this time.”

My respect for her went way up that day!

And the aftermath? The morning shift had questions as to why there was a rather beat-up muffler of a car in the parking lot in front of the pothole. The night manager and I just looked at each other and chuckled. While there were some words with the manager for what happened, his bosses were understanding of the matter but cautioned against letting it happen again.

My customer is swiping her card to make a payment, and the system freezes.

Me: “Oh, no! Let’s try that again.”

Customer: “Is it broken? Was it me? I’m so sorry!”

Me: “No, it wasn’t you! It just does that sometimes. The timing made it seem like it was you, but it’s just an old machine. Try it again?”

Customer: *Swipes.*

Me: “I think the swipe is broken. Try inserting?”

Customer: *Inserts.*

Me: “It’s not even asking for a PIN. Yeah, I need to do a reset. Are you okay to wait while I call my manager over?”

Customer: *Immediately.* “I don’t need a manager!”

Me: “Oh, no. I’m calling him over. I need him to put in a code.”

Customer: “You can’t do it yourself?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Okay, but remember you’re calling over the manager, not me.”

Weird, but okay. My manager comes over and does what he needs to do. We determined that the card machine is physically broken, so I have to take her card myself and scan it on a secondary reader that my manager plugs in for me.

Then I see the name on her card. Karen. 

No wonder she was so scared to be seen as “asking to speak to the manager.”