(I am shopping at a national hardware chain. I am wearing a red and black windbreaker because of the weather. As I walk around the aisles looking for what I need, I eventually notice an elderly gentleman obviously following me around. I stop and look at him.)
Old Customer: “I was wondering where the knee pad thingies were, but not the ones you wear.”
Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t work here; I’m shopping.”
Old Customer: “You know, the rubber pad things?”
Me: “I don’t work here…”
Old Customer: “…not the ones you wear.”
(It dawns on me that I am wearing similar colors to the store uniforms, so I just go with it.)
Me: “I think you might want to look in the gardening section a couple of aisles over.”
(As I am checking out, he comes up to the register with the pad in hand.)
Old Customer: “Thanks, found it in the garden section.”
(I still don’t know if he figured out I didn’t work there.)
Related:
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 33
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 32
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 31
(England has started charging for carrier bags. Occasionally, people moan, but this one takes the cake.)
Customer: “You should take a leaf from [Supermarket]; they have upgraded their bags!”
Me: *deadpan* “Actually, sir, by marketing their bags as ‘for life,’ they can keep the proceeds. Proceeds from single-use bags have to go to charity under the same law that mandates the charge.”
(I conclude by teaching him about our charity foundation, which receives the charge minus tax.)
Me: “We’re introducing a new design soon with the foundation being noted on the bag, but since [Company] seeks to be environmentally conscious, we’re not throwing the old ones away.”
(The customer is rather stunned by that, and leaves looking a little sheepish.)
Colleague: “Where’d you get that information?”
Me: “Have I Got News For You. They mentioned it when talking about the bag charge.”
(We cater for builders and DIY, so we stock 240V, or mains voltage, and 110V power tools, which are often used on building sites. The store is essentially a warehouse where customers order from catalogues and the items are gathered by staff)
Customer: I want an angle grinder, it has to be 110V.
Me: We have a number of that in different sizes, let me show you the range.
(After a moment he shows me the one he wants, I note the code and process the order. Everything seems fine until…)
Customer: *showing open box* What’s the meaning of this?
Colleague: Not all 110V tools come with plugs, it’s noted in out catalogue.
Customer: Do I look like an electrician? How am I supposed to use this without a plug!?
Me: With all due respect sir, I’m not an electrician but I can wire a plug. We do sell them as well.
Customer: You don’t get it! I need this ready tomorrow morning!
Me: *checking our system* The ones that cover with plugs won’t be here until tomorrow afternoon, I concede it was small print but …
(He repeated his argument several times, but in the end he bought a plug and argued about it until he collected it)
I worked in a Canadian automotive parts store that was in a seedy area of the city I lived in. We have people coming in to try and steal things all the time but they aren’t usually so obvious about it. I was the only cashier and it was first thing in the morning. A gentleman walked in and needed help finding power steering fluid. As I walked him over the the aisle a young rough looking woman entered the store carrying a bag that I couldn’t see at the time as she was partially hidden behind one of the displays. I showed the man the fluid, asked if he needed anything else and then returned to my desk where I could see the floor better. When the younger woman didn’t surface for a while I went to find her as I had my suspicions. As I rounded the corner of the aisle she was in she whipped her hand out of her bag she had been carrying so fast I thought she was going to hit herself in the face.
Me: (extra cheery) Hi, can I help you find something?
Her: Uh, no, I uh, I’m fine. I just need, uh, a uh, I just needed, um, I just want, I uh…
I let her sputter on for about 30 seconds.
Me: Open your bag.
Her: What? Why, what?
Me: Open your bag.
Her: stares at me
Me: (a little more forcefully) Open your bag.
Her: I’m so sorry, my boyfriend made me do it. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry. My boyfriend. I’m so sorry.
I then yelled for my manager and proceeded to pull almost $500 dollars worth of merchandise from her bag.
My manager chased her out, her boyfriend was waiting across the road for her. He didn’t look so happy about her getting caught.
(My brother works at a hardware store. A customer comes to his line with a pole)
Customer: How long is this pole?
Brother: I don’t know, let me check.
(My brother checks the tag)
Brother: Sorry sir, it doesn’t say.
(the man grumbles)
Customer: Fine. Scan it anyway.
(my brother scans it)
Brother: The total is [Total]
Customer: Can I get a veteran discount?
Brother: Sure, just show me your ID.
Customer: Oh, I don’t have that with me. I do have this though
(Customer shows my brother a piece of paper)
Customer: This states that I am a veteran.
(My brother has no idea what to do about this, so he calls his manager over to the line. The manager looks over the piece of paper.)
Manager: I’m sorry, sir, but this isn’t going to work.
(The customer slams his fists on the counter and mutters incoherently)
Brother: Do you still want the pole sir?
Customer: Yes.
(The customer pays for the pole.)
Customer: (as he is leaving, shouts) I will never come back to this store again!
