Attitude Fail Results In No Sale

, , , , | | Right | May 25, 2018

(I work at a grocery store, and we have a seasonal garden centre set up during May and June. The only people trained on cash registers are cashiers, so since the area is run by the produce department, they need our help. This is my favourite area to work in, so I work about 23 out of 28 hours a week out there, and am pretty well-versed in prices and packaging. I have just finished ringing up a customer with a large amount of flowers; she is busy putting them back on her flatbed cart while I deal with the next customer, an older man. He has two bags of what appear to be the same thing on his cart, but we do have two products in exactly the same yellow packaging, just with a different name printed on the front.)

Customer: “Just this please.”

Me: “Okay! Are they both soil?”

Customer: *in an indignant tone* “Yes. That’s what it says in big black letters.”

Me: *in a cheerful tone* “Oh, yes, I can see the top bag. I just wanted to make sure the other one is the same, because the peat moss is in the exact same bag.”

Customer: *very rudely* “Yes. It is the same.”

Me: *still cheerful* “Okay, just checking! I don’t want to charge you for the wrong thing by accident!”

(I scan the top bag of soil twice.)

Me: *still friendly* “Okay, sir, your total is [amount].”

Customer: “You know what? Your attitude is atrocious. I’m not buying this at all.”

(He then storms away, leaving his cart behind. This is the type of joke that elderly people tend to think is funny to pull on me, so I wait for him to turn around laughing… He doesn’t. The previous girl is still loading her cart, and she looks at me with a shocked expression, which I return.)

Me: “I honestly didn’t think I had an attitude at all… Did I? I didn’t mean to.”

Girl: “Not in the slightest. I don’t know what his problem was.”

Me: “Some people…”

When The Plant Isn’t The Dumbest Thing In The Room

, , , , | Right | April 10, 2018

(I’m standing in the middle of the front nursery, surrounded by plants, and I see a customer who looks lost.)

Me: “Are you finding everything all right?”

Customer: “I’m looking for a plant. It’s green. And it has leaves.”

Me: “…”

Customer: “Do you have it?”

Me: “…”

Customer: “Oh, jeez. That was stupid.”

(I could almost hear her mental facepalm.)

Some Customer’s Entitlement Can Just Run You Down

, , , , , | Right | January 24, 2018

(The road to the car-park separates the outdoor section, where I work, from the indoor section. I am standing near the pedestrian crossing, helping a lady choose some plants, when her young child runs off towards the road just as a car is driving up to it. I honestly don’t remember what happens next, but suddenly, I am on the other side of the crossing with the child tucked under my arm and the bumper of the car almost touching my leg. The driver of the car is white-faced and staring at me in shock. The mother of the child catches up with me.)

Customer: “HOW DARE YOU?!”

Me: “Huh?”

Customer: “You could have hurt her, manhandling her like that! Put her down right now!”

(I realise I am still carrying the child. I put her down, and she starts to toddle off, so I hold her shoulder gently until the woman glares at me and I let go.)

Customer: “[Child], are you bruised? Are you okay?”

(The child just babbles and giggles; she obviously isn’t talking much yet. My boss turns up.)

Boss: “[My Name], are you okay?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Boss: “You go and take a break, for as long as you want. I’ll sort this out.” *to the customer* “I’m [My Name]’s manager. Can I help you, ma’am?”

(I heard her start to rant, so I legged it and had a warm drink to calm down. When I got back out, my boss had checked the camera footage. It showed the child running away, and me bursting into a sprint, scooping up the kid, and dashing for the other side of the crossing just inches ahead of the car. He told me she had wanted to press charges for “child abuse,” and he, a new father himself, had torn a strip off her and banned her from the centre. She did, indeed, send a letter of complaint to our head office, but my boss and the general manager backed me up, and she was once again told to get lost.)

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Workers Like These Don’t Grow On Trees

, , , | Friendly | June 13, 2017

(I’m at the garden centre when I hear my name called.)

Cashier: “[My Name]! Can you help this lady? She wants to know about fruit trees.”

Me: “Sure thing.”

(The lady comes over to me and we discuss fruit trees, pollination groups, and rootstocks for a while. It’s quite a technical area of gardening that people often need assistance with. We decide between us what would be the best fruit tree for her.)

Me: “…so, it seems that the best tree for your garden would be a self-fertile Cox on an M26 rootstock.”

Customer: “Okay, do you have any in stock?”

(I shake my head theatrically. I was looking forward to this bit.)

Me: “Haven’t a clue.”

Customer: “Uh… what?”

Me: “I don’t work here.”

Customer: “Then… um… why…”

Me: “I’m a professional horticulturist and [Cashier] is a good friend of mine. He had a long queue of customers and knew I’d be willing to chat to you about my favourite subject for a while. Also, I have a working relationship with this garden centre: I answer the more technical enquiries for them, and they advertise my business for me. It’s win-win.”

Customer: *still looking very baffled and embarrassed* “Oh… well, that’s… good. Thanks for your help.”

Me: “No problem! I’m not in a rush, so would you like me to help you choose a good apple tree?”

(She said yes, so we went and found her a nice quality tree, and happily, they had exactly the one I had recommended in stock. I have to admit, though, I love confusing the garden centre’s customers like that, and Cashier finds it funny as well!)

Climbing Out Of This One

| UK | Right | May 10, 2017

(I work in a garden centre in the plants section. My job is, among other things, to give technical advice.)

Customer: “Excuse me, do you have any climbing Chlamydia?”

(Where I work is a place people go for a nice day out, so we get relaxed customers making jokes, so I get ready to make a humorous reply, but I realise that they’re entirely serious. I force my face straight.)

Me: “Umm, could you describe it to me?”

Customer: “Yes, it’s pink and climbs up, really fast.”

(Ouch! Nasty mental image right there!)

Me: “Ah, I think you might mean Clematis. Follow me and let’s see if this is what you want.”

Customer: “I’m certain I want Chlamydia!”

(I’m very certain you don’t, ma’am.)

Me: “I think you might mean this plant, Clematis montana.”

Customer: “Oh, yes, you’re right. That’s the one! Can you pick me out a good one, please?”

Me: “Sure thing!”

(I choose a nice healthy one, and we walk back towards the till. She looks thoughtful.)

Customer: “So… what’s Chlamydia then?”

Me: “Well… truth is, it’s a sexually transmitted disease.”

Customer: “…I beg your pardon?”

Me: “It’s a sexually transmitted disease, and I’m happy to say we don’t stock it here!”

Customer: “Oh, God, I’m so sorry! My son told me to come in here and ask for climbing Chlamydia. I’m going to KILL him!”

Me: *laughs* “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been asked for worst things. I had a gentlemen the other day who came in wanting a dwarf Pinus. He got that name badly wrong, and I had difficulty keeping my face straight!”

Customer: *grins in relief* “Did you tell him that size didn’t matter?”

Me: “You know, I wish I’d thought of that…”

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