Not Quite The PIN-nacle of Intelligence

| South Paris, ME, USA | At The Checkout, Criminal & Illegal, Extra Stupid, Money

Me: “Credit or debit?”

Customer: “Uhh… debit I, guess.”

Me: “Okay, slide the card here and then enter your pin.”

Customer: “But it’s my friend’s card. I don’t know the pin.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to use a card that doesn’t belong to you.”

Customer: “Do credit. I don’t need the pin for that.”

Me: “Yes, but for credit the cardholder has to sign.”

Customer: “I can sign it.”

Me: “Only the cardholder can sign.”

Customer: “Then I’ll just sign her name.”

Me: “I can’t allow you to do that either. That’s fraud. We could both get into trouble.”

Customer: “There won’t be any trouble. She told me I could use her card.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you use a card that doesn’t belong to you. Can you pay for these things yourself and then ask your friend to pay you back?”

Customer: “I don’t have any money. Besides, I can’t trust her to pay me back.”

Me: “Then I can’t sell you these items. I’m sorry.”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t know each other, right?”

Customer: “Um… nope. I don’t think so.”

Me: “If I were to try to buy something from you with a credit card that you knew wasn’t mine, what would you say?”

Customer: “I’d ask you for some kind of proof that you had permission…” *lightbulb goes on* “Oh!”

(Although the customer seems to finally understand, but she continues to stand there.)

Me: “Was there something else I could help you with?”

Customer: “So, can I just sign her name?”

Discussing Green Cards Until You’re Red In The Face

| MI, USA | Uncategorized

(I work in a drug store as a photo tech. Part of my job is taking passport photos. I take the photo then run it through a software program to ensure it meets standards for a passport photo. I have no leeway on the size of the photo. I cannot make it smaller or larger.)

Customer: “I need a Green Card photo.”

Me: “I can’t do Green Card photos.”

Customer: “But I need a Green Card photo.”

(He speaks pretty decent English, and his accompanying wife speaks flawless English.)

Me: “I’m sorry; I’m not even sure where you would go for that. It needs to be taken in a very specific way and I don’t have the software to do a Green Card photo.”

Customer: “Just take the photo!”

Me: “I can take a passport photo for you, but it won’t be the right size.”

Customer: “Take the photo!”

Me: “I’ll take a passport photo for you, but it won’t be what you need.”

(The customer speaks to his wife in their native language.)

Customer’s Wife: “Shut up, she knows what she’s doing.”

Me: “I actually don’t, because we don’t do Green Card photos and I assure you, this is not going to be what you need. This photo will be too large to use.”

Customer’s Wife: “You’ll do fine, dear.”

(I take the photo, explain to them again it will not be what they need. At their insistence, I process the photo and tell them as it develops it will not be what they need. I hand the finished product over.)

Customer: “It’s not the right size!”

Me:” I know. I do not have the capability to do a proper Green Card photo. This is the smallest photo I can make for you.”

Customer: “It’s too big!” *brandishes credit card at me, mistaking it for Green Card* “This size, this size!”

(I decide to make one last attempt at explaining this before I call my manager, who I love but I know is having a bad day.)

Me: “I do not have Green Card specification software. The only identification photos I can take accurately are passport photos. My computer is not capable of making a Green Card photo.”

Customer: *pauses* “Well, why the h*** didn’t you just tell me that?!”

Me: “I did, love. Five separate times. Have a great day, folks!”

Your Urgency Is Not My Emergency, Part 2

| Kittery, ME, USA | At The Checkout

(It is approximately five minutes past closing time at our drugstore. While my manager and I are counting the cash drawers, a man begins frantically banging on the doors and yelling at us.)

Customer: “Why are your doors locked?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we’re closed for the evening. We close at 9 and it is now almost 10 minutes past.”

Customer: “But I just need one thing! It’s an emergency!”

(I look over at my manager who sighs and nods. He puts one of the cash drawers back into the register while I unlock the door and let the man in.)

Customer: “You’re lucky you decided to unlock that door! I was about to break it down!”

Me: “What is it that you need? I can help you find—”

(The man pushes past me. After waiting for a few minutes, my manager is fed up.)

Manager: *yells toward the back of the store* “Sir? What is it that you need? Sir?”

(There’s no response from the customer, so my manager starts to head back to find him. They nearly collide at the end of an aisle.)

Customer: “Hey, watch it! I got what I need. Why are you so impatient?”

Manager: “Because we are supposed to be on our way home by now! My children are waiting for me to read them a bedtime story. Please pay for your items and be mindful of the store hours from now on.”

Customer: “Don’t talk to me like that! I’m a paying customer!”

(The man comes up to my register and drops his items on the counter: a bottle of personal lubricant, a bag of chips, and a bottle of wine. The customer pays and leaves. My manager is fuming.)

Manager: “THAT WAS THE BIG EMERGENCY?!”

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Your Urgency Is Not My Emergency