Unfiltered Story #186912

, , | Unfiltered | February 17, 2020

[I’m working the self scan with this man with a cart full of gallons of water walks up]

Man: [to coworker] Can you just quantity this for me 20 times?

Coworker 1: [turns to me] uhh?

Me: I’m sorry, we can’t quantity it, but we can scan it for you 20 times. [I reach for my hand scanner as he walks away]

[The man goes up to the customer service desk]

Man: Yeah can you just quantity it for me?

Coworker 2: Sorry, I can’t do that, the system won’t allow it without a manager’s override, but I can scan it for you. It would be a lot faster than waiting for a manager.

Man: [reaches for her hand scanner and starts to scan] NOW THAT WASN’T SO F***ING HARD WAS IT?!

Coworker 2: I was going to scan it for you, but okay.

[my manager heard the story later in the day and informed my coworker’s that if any customer swears at us or is generally rude, that we don’t have to deal with that and can call a manager to take over]

Hung Up On Stupidity

, , , | Right | February 14, 2020

Customer: “I couldn’t try this bra on; the hanger kept choking me.”

(I slip the straps off, thinking they are tagged to the hanger. Nope. They slide right off. I hold up the hanger in one hand and the bra in the other and look at lady, completely confused.)

Customer: “Ohhhhhh, I didn’t think to take it off the hanger.”

Me: *blinks*

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Nothing Like Midnight Sales To Bring Out The Best And Worst In People

, , , , , , | Right | February 13, 2020

I am a security guard, and I worked shoplifting prevention for a highly publicized and hugely popular annual Midnight Madness sale that has always drawn a large and sometimes rowdy crowd.

A huge line had formed at the door before midnight, waiting for the store to open. Among the first in line was a woman of about my age — mid-30s — who was obviously disabled with cerebral palsy. She wore a heavy-looking brace system on both legs and partway up her torso and walked using two canes. Because of the disability and the braces and canes, she walked a little slower and less steadily than able-bodied people. We were chatting while everyone waited for the store to open and I warned her that some people get pushy during sales like these.

A few minutes later, the store unlocked its doors and officially opened for the sale. The disabled lady began walking in, heading for the store’s scooters. She was doing just fine until a scuzzy-looking chick wielding a baby carriage like a weapon came up from behind her and started pushing and yanking at the disabled woman, who looked like she was going to fall because of the aggressive baby-mama shoving at her.

I ran over. I took the disabled lady’s arm and told the baby-mama that she had no right to shove another customer.

She retorted with, “These [mentally disabled slurs] have no right to be here, holding up the line!”

At that point, I saw red. The disabled lady was not mentally impaired, and even if she had been, she still had the right to be there and the right to be treated with respect and not called a hideously bigoted term.

I said to the disabled lady, “Would you like to press charges for physical assault against this jerk?”, and she said no. At that point, the baby-mama started screaming obscenities at me and at the disabled lady.

I took baby-mama by the arm and escorted her and her stunned-looking toddler in the baby carriage out forcibly. I told her that she was not welcome back tonight or at any other time. At that, she dropped the trailer-trash obscenity production and started whining about how the store I had just banned her from was the only one within walking distance of her apartment and how was she supposed to get groceries now?!

I said to her that she should have thought of that before assaulting a disabled person and making an absolute embarrassment of herself with the screamed obscenities and the bigoted comment. She whined at me a few minutes more, until I said that I’d be happy to call the police and explain what she did and said to them. She took off fast after that, dragging the baby carriage and the stunned-looking toddler along with her. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

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Beginning Of Shift: And Now Our Watch Begins

, , , , | Right | February 9, 2020

(I am working at the jewelry counter of my department store changing a watch band. I start to get a line and call for some backup when a customer in her 70s comes up. My coworker is the first to help her.)

Coworker: “How can I help you, ma’am?”

Customer: *with the tone of an adult talking to a very small child* “Yes, I am looking for the most expensive watch that you sell. Do you think you may be able to manage that?”

Coworker: “Uh… I’m not sure; I don’t usually work in this department. Hey, [My Name], what’s the most expensive watch we sell?”

Me: “Honestly, I’m not sure. I know what brands tend to cost more but I’ll have to actually look.”

Customer: “Can’t you two handle anything? I said I need the most expensive one. Find it!

Me: “You want me to check every single watch we sell to find the one with the biggest price tag?”

Customer: *with a super fake sweet tone* “Well, of course, I do.”

Me: *putting on my nicest customer service voice* “It’ll take a minute. We have over 250 watches in the cases alone, not counting what we have in the back stock.”

(Extremely slowly, I proceed to pull the tag out of different watches, reading the prices out slowly to her. I can tell she’s losing her patience, as she starts tapping her foot and drumming her fingers on the counter. I only get through about six watches before she snaps.)

Customer: “This is just taking far too long! Why don’t you just find me the one with the most features!”

(I’m laying the customer service on so thick at this point that there’s no way she’s going to find something to complain about like she wants to.)

Me: “Of course, ma’am! Let me go ahead and read the manual on all of these! I just want to make sure I’m giving you exactly what you’re looking for.”

(I slowly pull out each manual and read the features out to her. She’s getting even more pissed off at this point.)

Customer: *sarcastically* “Oh, you just go ahead and take all the time you need! It’s not like I have anything important to do!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, you are a valued customer at [Store] and I want to make sure you are 100% satisfied with your purchase today. Now, where was I?” *continues to read manuals*

Customer: “Oh, my God, this is ridiculous! Listen, honey, I know you’re ‘special,’ but why don’t you just pick one out for me? I need something for a thirteen-year-old boy. Do you think you can handle that?”

Me: *still not losing my perfect helpful face* “What’s his style?”

Customer: “I DON’T KNOW! It’s your job to know these things! I don’t have time for this; just hand me one that’s $150 so I can get out of here.”

Me: “Here you are, ma’am. I can ring you up right here!”

Customer: *getting angrier by the minute that I haven’t given her a reason to talk to a manager and that she has completely failed to get a reaction* “Fine.”

Me: “You have an absolutely lovely day and thank you for shopping with us!”

Customer: *storms off after snatching her bag from me*

(Sometimes, you get way more of a reaction out of those customers by getting nicer. It was funny to watch her squirm to find something to complain about and storm out!)

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Crime Stinks

, , , , , | Legal | February 7, 2020

New perfume sample bottles are put out one day. Security catches a guy watching, and sure enough, he starts to sneak around. Before long, he has twenty full bottles stashed in his coat and pants pockets, never realizing we watched the whole thing on camera.

Security is waiting by the door, but when they approach him, he takes off running. It turns out it’s not easy to run with a few pounds of glass bottles clanking around. He makes it about five feet out the door before he trips and hurts himself. Security brings him back in.

This is where the problem begins. A bunch of the bottles cracked in the fall. By the time we get him back to the office, his coat is actually wet with perfume. The combination of scents is eye-watering.

We call the police and try to set up a fan to blow the smell out of the hallway to no avail. The first cop rounds the corner, pauses, and just mutters, “Oh, my God,” before he even sees the thief.

Police end up drawing straws to see whose patrol car the guy will be in. Later, when I see that cop, he tells me the jail wasn’t happy as the thief was held for the weekend, and the cell still hasn’t aired out.

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