Little Piece, Big Problem

, , | Right | June 7, 2017

(A customer approaches the counter with a sewing machine in an open box.)

Customer: “There’s a problem with this machine. I want to claim it under warranty.”

Me: “Okay, what seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “Well, there was a little piece inside the machine that was stopping it from working, so I opened it up and moved some of the parts inside the machine to get the piece out. I put it back together but it still doesn’t work.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but by opening the panel and removing some of the parts you’ve automatically voided your warranty. I can get the repairman to look at it, but you’ll have to pay for it. And from what you’ve told me I think there’s a good chance he won’t be able to fix it.”

Customer: “But I had to get the little piece out! I need to claim it under warranty!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you can’t claim this machine under warranty now.”

Customer: “No! Let me speak to your manager!”

(My manager told her exactly the same thing, and the fight kept going in circles. After a lot of resistance from the customer my manager agreed to give her a new machine and see what she could do with the broken one.)

Manager: “Okay, put the machine on the counter and I’ll give you a new one.”

(The customer pulls out a MASSIVE bag of machine parts. She’s evidently taken the entire thing to bits.)

Manager: “You gave me the impression you’d only moved a few pieces and then put them back. I can’t accept this.”

Customer: “You said you’d give me an exchange!”

Manager: “I’m sorry, but a machine in this condition is completely worthless. I can’t exchange it for a new one.”

Customer: “But I had to move all of this to get the little piece! The machine didn’t work. What was I supposed to do?!”

Manager: “When you have that kind of problem you’re supposed to bring it to us right away and claim it under warranty instead of trying to repair it yourself. This situation is the exact reason why machines that have been tampered with are not under warranty.”

(Eventually she got the customer to leave. Apparently the customer came back three days in a row, each time fighting with my manager and other employees about the same thing. In the end my manager reluctantly gave her a new one just to shut her up. She still had the nerve to put in a complaint about the “awful” service she received.)

The Baggage Of Benjamin Button

, , , | Working | June 7, 2017

(My husband and I run into a fabric store to pick up replacement buttons. I grab a card with four buttons and head for the checkout. Along the way he grabs a small, sample size chocolate bar.)

Cashier: “Hi! How are you?”

Me: “Great thanks. You?”

Cashier: “Can’t complain. Just those two?” *grabs for a bag*

Me: “Yes. I don’t need a bag.”

(Until this point, all has seemed normal. Now she stops moving, turns towards me, and stares.)

Cashier: “NO BAG?”

Me: “No. I can just toss the buttons in my pocket and he’s going to eat the chocolate.”

Cashier: “So no bag. At all?”

Me: “No, it’s fine.”

(The cashier now slowly scans the buttons and chocolate. She slides them across the counter towards me, giving me a very confused look.)

Cashier: “That’s $2.77. And no bag.”

Me: “Thanks.” *hands her $3*

(My husband grabs the chocolate and starts eating. I slide the buttons in my pocket. Cashier counts change back to me and hands me the receipt. She is still staring at me like I’ve offended the button gods. As we are walking out the door, I hear her talking to the next customer.)

Cashier: “They bought buttons and she wouldn’t take a bag!”

Chocolate Cures Everything

| Houston, TX, USA | Friendly | May 9, 2017

(I just got diagnosed with a sinus infection and a really bad ear infection that I don’t feel. On top of that my period had started and is rather painful the first two days. Nonetheless, I still come to work but have a ton of medicine in my system. About a half hour into my shift, I suddenly lose all strength in my body and fight to not pass out by leaning against the counter and baskets whenever no one is looking. I see a customer approach and straighten myself and put the best smile on that I can.)

Me: “Hello, how much do you need?”

Customer: *looks really concerned* “Are you all right?”

Me: “I’m fine.”

Customer: “Are you sure? I saw you leaning against the basket and you look pale.”

Me: “I just feel very weak right now. I’m on a ton of antibiotics after seeing the doctor yesterday.”

Customer: “Do you want me to get you something? Like chocolate?”

Me: “That… would be nice.”

(As I cut her material, she runs to the front and returns a few minutes later with a chocolate bar.)

Me: “I…”

Customer: “Don’t worry, chocolate is a good pick me up.”

(I finished cutting her material and thanked her, send her on her way taking a few nibbles of the chocolate. About an hour later and a quick break my strength returned, allowing me to finish my shift with no problems. The customer returned a few days later allowing me to thank her once again for the chocolate and she was glad to hear that I got better and that my infection was almost cleared. Thank you so much, miss.)

Asking The Wrong Questions

| UT, USA | Right | February 6, 2017

(I work at a well known chain fabric store. A customer approaches me with a bolt of fabric.)

Customer: “Can you tell me if you have this in black?”

(There’s no easy way to find a fabric in a different color because it has a different number so it’s a job of pulling down every bolt of that color and looking for the name. But I’ll always try on the off chance I can find it.)

Me: “Sure, let’s take a look.”

(After pulling down 20+ bolts of black fabric and checking the names, I can’t find it.)

Me: “Looks like I’m all out of that one in black, unfortunately.”

Customer: “Okay. Where would it be if it were in the wrong place?”

Me: “…”

A Close-Knit Employee

| OH, USA | Right | January 16, 2017

(I recently started a job at a fabric store, where my main duty is to cut fabric. During my training, since I have no prior experience with fabric or sewing, I constantly ask my supervisors for answers. While I am currently on seasonal pay, the general manager has said that I am actually a part-time employee.)

Customer: *approaches me* “Miss, can you help me?”

Me: “Sure, what is it?”

Customer: “Can you recommend a spray for my tee-shirt quilt? You have two different kinds and I want to know which you think is better.”

Me: “Umm, I personally do not know, but let me ask someone who’d know.”

Customer: “Oh, you’re one of those seasonals?”

Me: *about to page my supervisor on the radio* “Yeah?”

Customer: “Figures. These days, you’ll hire anyone off the streets who can wield scissors.”

(I have no answer to that. I page my supervisor and get an answer. Before I can relay it, the customer continues on.)

Customer: “What experience DO you have with fabric?”

Me: “None, but—”

Customer: “Figures. I probably won’t see you after January.”

Me: “But I am the only employee who knows a lick about knitting.”

(The customer had the decency to look ashamed! As for my knowledge of sewing, my supervisor and my mother are both teaching me.)

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