Immediately Discount Their Argument

| Auckland, New Zealand | Right | November 5, 2015

(I have served a customer and she has come back in with a malicious look on her face.)

Me: “What’s the issue, ma’am?”

Customer: You didn’t ask me for my discount card.”

Me: “Oh, my apologies. Unfortunately, I cannot do anything to give you that discount now because it has to go through the till first, but there is a number on the back of your card you can call and they can help you.”

Customer: “Why didn’t you ask me for it?”

Me: “It’s up to you to use it, I’m afraid.”

Customer: “I am going to need to take your name and managers number. Give it to me.”

Me: “You knew you had that card perfectly well. My name is not for you to know, and if you are here to stir trouble, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

Customer: “This is outrageous! I did not come to this country to be treated like this by customer service!”

Me: “And I do not work my a** off seven days a week for people like you to come in here and attack me like this. Get out.”

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Sticking To Her Expectations

| USA | Right | October 12, 2015

(I work at a chain grocery store. I’d just gotten out of work and went to a gas station to put gas in my car. As I was sliding my card, I suddenly hear yelling from behind me. I turn around to see a little girl, four years old, tops, in a pink dress, bolting across the parking lot, her father hot in pursuit.)

Girl: “Hi! Are you from the store?”

Me: “Yep!”

Girl: *hands on hips* “Do you have something for me?”

(Our cashiers often give stickers to kids. She must be a regular customer with her parents.)

Me: “Sorry, hun, I left all my stickers at the [Company]’s store. Next time you come in, ask for [My Name] and I’ll give you a lot of stickers, okay?”

Girl: “Okay.” *she thinks about this, and then looks up at me* “Why are you not at the [Company]’s store? Don’t you live there?”

Me: *trying not to laugh* “I just needed to put some gas in this car. Is that okay with you?”

Girl: *nodding thoughtfully* “Yes, I guess you can do that if you want to.”

(Her dad finally caught up to her and picked her up and started apologizing profusely, but I just smiled and said she made my day. I told her that she had to listen to her dad from now on and she agreed.)

Well Crossplayed Mom

| UK | Related | September 22, 2015

(I have just come back from a four day convention where about half the attendees wear costumes. I’m known for ‘crossplaying’ – wearing a costume of the opposite gender – so I have a f2m breast compressor in order to help, note that I’m a fairly busty female. My mum has picked me up from the train station and had stopped to get petrol. I go into the garage with her as I want something to eat. At the check out;)

Mum: “Oh, did you mean to leave your booby squisher bra at home?”

Me: “…my what?”

Mum: “You know—” *pushes her breasts down* “—no boobs—” *lets them go* “—boobs!”

Me: “My breast compressor?”

Mum: “Yes, did you mean to leave it at home?”

Me: “Well yeah, I was doing all female characters this time.”

(I suddenly realise the male clerk has stopped scanning and is looking completely bemused.)

Mum: *to the clerk* “She has a booby flattener. It makes her boobs disappear. I didn’t think it would as she has such big ones, but it really does!”

The Cone Of Despair

| Savannah, GA, USA | Right | September 22, 2015

(One of the pumps are blocked off by two orange cones.)

Customer: “Is pump five working?”

Me: “No, sir, it has two cones on it.”

Customer: “Yes, I know but is it working.”

Me: “No, sir. It is out of order hence the cones.”

Customer: “Oh, well, I wasn’t sure because there wasn’t a sign.”

Been There, Sold That, Got The T-Shirt

| Minneapolis, MN, USA | Working | September 7, 2015

(I get a job via a temp agency to peddle a credit card offer for an out-of-state bank at a gas station for three separate four-hour shifts. This is my first conversation with my contact from the bank.)

Me: “So, people are applying for a credit card for an out-of-state bank? Is there anything else they get?”

Supervisor: “Yeah, they get an “America” t-shirt!”

Me: “Anything else? Do they get anything else? Like a gas card or something?”

Supervisor: “No, just the shirt.”

Me: “It sounds to me that it would be a tough sell on a t-shirt alone.”

Supervisor: “Yeah, but since 9/11 people will do a lot of stuff for America, so the shirt should be enough.”

(From start to finish, the entire job is a fiasco. There is supposed to be a supervisor from the bank as well as another employee, yet neither manifest. I am told to I HAVE wear one of the t-shirts that the bank is offering despite the fact that none are in my size. Worst of all, two hours before the end of my last humiliating shift, I get a call from my contact at the bank and I relate to him my trials in trying to get people to apply for a credit card with only a shirt to offer in return.)

Supervisor: “You mean no one’s wanting the gas card either?”

Me: “What gas card?”

Supervisor: “Oh, yeah, there’s a ten dollar gas card for applying. Didn’t you know?”

Me: *now frustrated* “NO! I even asked you when I started if there was anything else! I would’ve gotten at least double the signatures if I’d known about the gas card!”

Supervisor: “OH! Well, they get the gas card just for applying.”

(The original goal for the bonus was fifty signatures, but they cut it down to ten, seeing as I’d had such issues. I still missed it by one signature.)

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