Me: (On the phone) Hello, sporting goods department, can I help you?
Customer: Yeah I was wondering if you guys had a certain jet ski part?
Me: Oh, no I’m sorry, we don’t carry those
Customer: But you can order it for me right?
Me: No, it’s not something this company sells. We can’t get it for you
Customer: Okay, well I’ll just come in and we’ll talk about ordering that part okay?

He hung up before I could explain again that we could not order this part for him

(A customer brings a bunch of things from clearance to my register, but hands me three pairs of shoes first. They’re the same brand, same sizes, and the same type of shoe, but different colors: a bright coral, an off-white, and a simple brown. The coral and white shoes are marked at $6.00 each on their boxes, but the brown shoes have no box nor a tag.)

Customer: *before I can say hello* “What are the prices for these shoes?”

(I take the time to examine them to make sure the box matches the shoe, since I’ve caught customers switching boxes to get a cheaper price, but sure enough, the shoes match the boxes and I ring them up.)

Me: “The coral and white shoes are $6 each. Let me check the brown ones—“

Customer: “They’re $6, right?”

Me: “I can’t say for sure; it doesn’t have a tag or a UPC.”

Customer: “But they’re the same shoes!”

Me: “I know, but they’re different colors, and they might be different prices.”

(I call my coworker from the shoe department over, and she examines the shoes.)

Coworker: “That’s weird… I could have sworn there was a tag on these shoes. I’ll go check if it maybe fell off in the clearance section—“

Customer: “It’s $6, right?”

Coworker: “I can’t say. I need to look for the price first.”

(I ring up all the customer’s things while we awkwardly wait. My coworker calls my manager to see if she can look it up at customer service, but since it’s been on clearance for a while we can’t find it anywhere.)

Me: *sighs* “Manager, can I just put the style code in and put it in for $6? They are the same shoe, just different colors.”

Manager: *a little hesitant, but she agrees* “Okay. We did the best we can do, but we’ll have to give it for that price since we can’t find the actual one.”

Customer: *gleeful* “$6?”

Me: “Yeah, since we can’t find the price tag. I’m so sorry for the wait.”

(I realize the customer is short a few bucks to take advantage of a sale, so I let her know, and she quickly leaves the register with her things still on my counter, unpurchased. It’s a slow day and there aren’t any customers, so I didn’t mind waiting a few minutes. My coworker in the shoe department takes the customer’s now empty cart to wheel it away when she stops and pulls something out. It’s the tag for those brown shoes, torn off and left at the bottom. It says it’s on clearance, but for $15.)

Coworker: “Uh, [Manager]?”

Manager: *sees the tag* “Ooh, that stinker!”

Coworker: *to me* “Did she buy the shoes already?”

Me: “No.”

Coworker: “You’re going to have to tell her that we can’t sell her the shoes for that price since we found the tag.” *shakes her head in disappointment* “She knew what she was doing.”

(The customer comes back, and sure enough, that gleeful smile falls when she realizes we found the torn-off tag at the bottom of her cart and we explain that it’s $15.)

Customer: “But they’re the same shoe!”

Manager: “Yes, but they’re different colors, so sometimes they’re different prices.”

Customer: *stares at the shoes forlornly, like she is giving up her firstborn child* “I don’t want them, then.”

(The stupid part in all this was that, had this lady been honest and asked if we could just honor the shoes for the cheaper price, we would have done it. But because she wanted to be sneaky and dishonest about it, she didn’t get it for that price. Lesson learned, hopefully.)

My fiancée is shopping for a fancy women’s suit for our upcoming wedding. To save money, she, her brother, and their mom go to a department store. My fiancée finds a great suit that she looks amazing and comfortable in, but now she will need a tie for it. She goes to an associate, an older woman, for help.

The associate gives my fiancée — who does have a butch hairstyle — and her women’s suit a dirty look and tells her that women’s scarves, but not ties, are nearby and men’s ties are upstairs.

My fiancée still got the suit.

(I’m assisting an elderly couple, who are regulars of ours, at the jewelry counter.)

Husband: “We’re looking for a yellow gold crucifix.”

Me: “Most of them will be in this case right here.”

Husband: “Not a cross, now, a crucifix.”

Me: “Yes, sir, we have plenty of both in this case.”

Husband: “Do you have any in 18-karat? I’m making up a rosary for my nephew.”

Me: “Unfortunately, we only carry 10- or 14-karat gold pieces.”

Husband: “I want 18-karat to match the beads on the rosary. Do you know what a rosary is?”

Me: “Yes, sir. Sadly, we don’t carry 18-karat–“

Husband: *interrupting, and pulling the rosary out of his pocket to show me* “It looks like this, and it’s used in Catholic prayer.”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Husband: “Now I can tell you’re not Catholic, but I’m sure you’re still a good Christian.”

Me: “…”

(The hilarious part was that he was wrong on both counts. I was baptized Catholic, but my parents gave us free rein on our religious beliefs and I’m currently agnostic. I still know what a crucifix and a rosary are!)

I’m visiting from Canada and decide to do a little shopping south of the border at a well-known retail chain that sells a bit of everything.  I’ve tried some shirts on that don’t quite fit right, and since they were folded when I took them from the shelf, I took them back and re-folded them.

Employee 1: “Oh my god!  You’re awesome!  Look!” *Gestures to other employee.*
Employee 2: “You ARE awesome!”
Me, surprised, “Really?  I didn’t even do it that well.”
Employee 2: “But you tried!  People here never even try – this is what they usually do:” *Grabs a couple of folded shirts, wads them up, shoves them back on the shelf, messing up other shirts in the process – which the employee now has to fix up again.*

Five minutes later I had tried on a couple more shirts and, again, refolded them to put them back.  Que repeat of ‘oh my god thank you, you’re awesome!’ from a completely different employee.

Maybe it’s a Canadian thing, or maybe people in WNY just hate folding clothes?