Isn’t Really Selling Their Innocence

, , , , , , | Working | January 1, 2018

(I’ve been searching for a job for a while and have gotten hired at a place that does at-home presentations. It’s my first day, and I’m paired with one of the senior trainers who’s been told to take me around his assigned territory.)

Trainer: “So, just to let you know, I got a DUI last week, so forgive me that I have to do the stupid breathalyzer thing every time I start my car up.”

(We get into his car, which is overloaded with trash, and the trainer grumbles about how it wasn’t his fault, his friend spiked his drinks, the police were bullying him, and so on, as he blows into the ignition interlock that’s been fitted. I try to ignore this, telling myself I need this job, I’m a good salesman, and once I get the gist of this I can drive my own car from place to place. For most of the day, the trainer just runs me through the gauntlet of what to say for each presentation, how we receive calls from potential customers, the sheets we have to fill out for each house we visit, etc. Every so often he brings up again how he’s not to blame for the DUI, and curses the police whenever he has to blow into the ignition interlock; however, things don’t go south until later in the afternoon, when the trainer suddenly stops in the middle of telling me something and looks at his rear-view mirror.)

Trainer: “D*** it! No, please, not now!”

(I look behind us and notice a cop car with their lights flashing. The trainer keeps cursing as he pulls over and turns to me.)

Trainer: “Okay, look. I need you to do me a favor. Tell the officer this is your car and you’re just letting me drive it!”

Me: “What?”

Trainer: “I have expired license plates! I can’t let that be added to my record, too!”

Me: “Wait, what about your registration?”

Trainer: “It’s expired, too! So is my license! Look, just tell this guy it’s your car! I’m begging you!”

Me: “I can’t do that!”

Trainer: “You don’t understand! I can’t go back to jail again!”

(The cop knocks on the window.)

Trainer: “Remember, this is your car!”

(He rolls the window down and repeats the same thing he just told me. The cop looks at me questioningly.)

Me: “This isn’t my car.”

(The trainer ended up being arrested on the spot, because his expired license meant he shouldn’t have been on the road at all. The cop let me go after confirming my identity and my statement that I did not own the car, and I ended up having to catch the bus back to the office, since I’d left my own vehicle there. I quit that job shortly after.)

A Sickening Amount Of Fraud

, , , , , | Right | December 26, 2017

(An obviously drunk woman comes up with a paper bag, swaying.)

Woman: “I have… a reservation. [Woman].”

Me: “Okay, can I see the credit card that will be used?”

(She brings the bag up to her nose and THROWS UP in it. My stomach churns and I back off a bit.)

Woman: “My daddy called and said that he was going to pay for it!”

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t give you a room unless I swipe the card.”

Woman: “Why?” *throws up some more*

Me: “It’s the rules.”

Woman: “Can’t you just make an exception for once? I’m sick and everything! Don’t you people have a heart?!”

Me: “No, sorry. It’s to prevent credit card fraud.”

Woman: “Fine!”

(She turned and stumbled away, hopped in her car, and drove off… straight into a street lamp! The cops were called and she was arrested. I wonder if her daddy bailed her out?)

Their Clearance Scam Is As Clear As Ever

, , , | Right | December 22, 2017

(We have an older regular customer who is notorious for peeling clearance stickers off of items and slapping them on full-priced merchandise. She does this primarily with cosmetic items. The dead giveaway is the fact she puts the stickers over the barcode, which we never do. Even if an item is clearanced, we still get full credit for it. We can’t get any credit if we simply ring it as an open department beauty item, which could be anything from professional hair care to cotton balls. She’s been caught shopping with a clearance sticker on each finger, looking for items to put them on, and she’s been caught opening big bags of candy and stuffing handfuls in her purse. Every time she gets caught, her defense is, “I didn’t do that!” and, “I don’t know!” and, “Those aren’t mine!” We warn everyone about our clearance policy routinely. The sticker is placed visibly on the front of the item, and the price is already adjusted in the system. If a mascara has a sticker on the front for $1.50, the register will scan it for that price. It’s VERY rare a price change gets by the head of the cosmetics department, and again, in order to receive proper credit and keep our inventory straight, we NEVER put stickers over the barcodes. One this particular occasion, the customer greets me and starts loading her stuff on the counter. I start scanning and sure enough, I find a pair of hair clips with a $1.49 clearance sticker over the barcode on the back of the package. I simply peel it off and scan the clips, which are a very popular style and not going to be discontinued anytime soon. They come out to $3.99, and I drop them in the bag before scanning her other items.)

Customer: *watching the transaction on register like a hawk* “Those clips were $1.49.”

Me: “No, they weren’t.”

Customer: *huffy* “Well, then, I don’t want them. I’m not paying that much.”

Me: “No problem.” *takes the item off* “Is this all for you today?”

Customer: “No, I want [most expensive Pack of Cigarettes] and I want it in this bag.”

(I grab the hair clips and stuff them in my pocket, as she’s also been known to stuff her rejected items in her purse when the cashier’s back is turned. I retrieve the costly cigarettes. They come out to about $7 and change, with tax. I also put it in the bag she requested.)

Customer: *takes her change after I finish the transaction, and roots around in her bags* “How much did this cost?” *shoves an item at me*

Me: *glances at her receipt and reads the price*

Customer: “Humph. What about this?”

Me: *does the same thing again*

Customer: “And just where are my cigarettes?”

Me: “In the bag you told me to put them in.”

Customer: *looks in said bag once more, mad that she couldn’t trip me up a fourth time, and proceeds to storm out the door*

Me: “Have a nice day!”

(We still can’t work out why she’ll buy our most expensive cigarettes, but paying full price for cosmetic items is just too much.)

Keeping A Low Police-Profile

, , , , | Working | December 18, 2017

(My manager is an ex-cop, and lets me call the police if I have any problems. I work the overnight shift in a bad part of town. One day, a stranger comes in, acting aggressively, and demands that I open my till and give him money. I’m reasonably frightened because though I tell him to leave, he doesn’t listen. So I call the police to escort him out. Afterwards…)

Manager: “Was this guy really that scary?”

Me: “He kept demanding that I give him money. I thought he was a robber!”

Manager: *looks sceptical*

Me: “It was two in the morning!”

Manager: “Yes, but now all my cop friends are laughing at me!”

(Figuring out that the manager cared more about what his friends thought than of my own safety, I quit a few months later.)

Can’t Clean Your Hands Of This Crime

, , , , , , | Working | December 13, 2017

(We have someone come in once a week to clean our house. She is, in a word, amazing; our house looks fantastic, and she always goes that extra mile to make it look even better. When a friend tells me that she is looking for a cleaner, I gladly recommend my cleaner. A few weeks later, my friend phones me.)

Friend: “This is a little awkward, but… have you noticed any money missing from your house?”

Me: “No. Oh, wait a second. [Eight-Year-Old Daughter] said that she can’t find some money that she’s been saving. She’s kind of careless, so I assumed she’d just misplaced it. Why do you ask?”

Friend: “I keep noticing small amounts missing, say, $5 or $10, and it’s always after [Cleaner] has been here.”

Me: “Oh, dear! I hope I didn’t let a thief into your house!”

Friend: “Tell you what: my husband has tomorrow off, and [Cleaner] is coming to clean. I’m going to deliberately leave $10 lying under a chair, and he’ll see what she does.”

Me: “Okay. Keep me posted.”

(The next day…)

Friend: “Well, she tried to steal the $10. She picked it up and put it in her pocket, and when my husband confronted her, she pretended that it was hers. We fired her on the spot.”

Me: “Guess I’ll have to do the same. Ugh. I’m so sorry about this!”

(I phone our cleaner.)

Me: “My friend told me what happened at her house. My little girl’s money is missing as well. Did you steal it?”

Cleaner: “What? No! Of course not! I would never do such a thing to a child!”

Me: “I’m thinking seriously about phoning the police.”

Cleaner: “NO! You don’t need to do that. Listen… I’m completely innocent, but just to show good faith, I’ll return… um, I mean give you half of the missing money. That’ll be $65. How’s that sound?”

Me: “I don’t remember telling you how much was missing.”

Cleaner: “…”

Me: “Forget it. You’re fired.”

(We changed our locks, of course, and I gave my daughter her money back out of my own pocket. To this day, I still miss my cleaner. She was such an awesome cleaner, and if she’d only taken money from ME, I might have turned a blind eye to her stealing.)

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