The Mother Of All Rejections

| Stillwater, OK, USA | Romantic | January 14, 2015

(I had recently transferred to a hardware store location in my college town after I moved there. This woman in her late 40s walks up to me smiling. I remember her from earlier because she had gone through my line.)

Pushy Mom: “My son wants me to get your number.”

Me: “Oh! Uhm… we’re not really allowed to give out our personal phone numbers.” *looks around for help*

Pushy Mom: “Oh, come on. Just give me your number! He’s out in the parking lot in the car right now. He sent me because he just got off of work and is really dirty and didn’t want to make a bad impression!”

Me: “I’m not really comfortable with this. Maybe if he came up to me himself?”

Pushy Mom: “Just give me your NUMBER!”

Me: “I just moved here and I don’t know my number yet. I wrote down the number of the landline where I’m staying in my pocket… hold on.”

(I really didn’t want to give her my cell number. But, I did have the rejection hotline number with the area code in my pocket just in case. I copy down the rejection hotline number on a slip of receipt paper, and then she stomped away in a huff after badgering me for my phone number for her son… who was in the parking lot the whole time watching all of that unfold. I really hope he learned his lesson and stopped sending his mom to ask out ladies for him!)

Sadly That Is The Uniform Response

| The Netherlands | Right | November 4, 2014

(I work for a company that supplies company clothes. I need something from a hardware store so I go there after work wearing my company’s clothes. The employees there are naturally wearing work clothes of this particular DIY store, of a different style and color to the work clothes I was wearing. Some customer there walks up to me.)

Customer: “Do you still have [item] in store? It doesn’t seem to be on the shelves.”

Me: “I really couldn’t tell.”

Customer: *immediately interrupting me* “Always the same. You people are really unhelpful. Never know anything and I guess you’re not even going to check, right?”

Me: *pointing at the logo on my shirt of a totally different company* “I don’t work here. I just happen to need something here.”

Customer: *slowly realising my clothes in no way resemble the clothes of the store employees* “Well! How am I supposed to know that you don’t work here?!”

Me: “Perhaps by seeing that my clothes are completely different from the employees here?”

Customer: “It’s your fault! I can’t be bothered with such things.”

I Quit From This Stupid Situation

| Canada | Right | November 3, 2014

(I’m shopping in the hardware store, wearing jeans and a green gaming shirt. All the employees of that store wear red shirts. When this happens, I’m pushing my cart while texting a friend about what I should buy.)

Client: “Excuse me, miss?”

Me: “…yes?”

Client: “Where are the rugs?”

Me: “Eh… I have no clue, sorry.”

Client: “What kind of employee are you?”

Me: “An “employee –“” *I make a big emphasis on the word employee while making a quote mark move with my fingers* “— who’s wearing a Dungeons and Dragons shirt while texting on the job?”

Client: “I’m gonna report you to your manager!”

Me: “You just have to look for someone with a red shirt to report me; all the employees here are wearing them.”

Client: “And you’re not even wearing your uniform? How did they not fire you yet? You don’t know where your products are in the store and you don’t respect your work rules! Find me your manager, NOW! I want to complain immediately!”

Me: “Did it not occur to you that I’m not working here?”

(At this point, I go around him and start texting again while leaving the aisle. He follows me.)

Client: “I’m not leaving you until you lead me to a manager.”

Me: “Okay, then.”

(I go to the service counter and ask for a manager.)

Client: “You’re so gonna be fired!”

Manager: “Hi! How may I help you?”

Client: “How can you let someone work here dressed like that, and text on the job? I demand she be fired immediately for such bad behavior! On top of that, she refused to help me and was about to get away with it, but I followed her until she accepted to ask for a manager. ”

Manager: “Uh… she’s obviously not an employee here.”

Client: “You’re protecting her! I want to see the general manager! It’s not going to end up good, I promise you!”

Manager: “I assure you, she’s a client like you! Look around. All the employees are wearing red shirts!”

Client: “Yeah, she’s not wearing her uniform. I WANT TO SEE A HIGHER MANAGER!”

Me: *a bit pissed off by the situation* “Hey. Let’s get this over with. I quit. I’ve had enough of this low paying job with stupid clients like you. That’s it. I’m done. I’m leaving now. I’ll come in to get my last paycheck next week. It was a pleasure working with you, but I can’t anymore.”

Client: “Ha! I was right. You do work here! Well, worked. Thank you, sir!”

(He leaves, leaving both the manager and I with baffled looks on our faces.)

Manager: “Well, that’s a good way to solve a problem! It was nice being your coworker for… two minutes!”

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His Shopping Trip Came Crashing To The Floor

| Agadir, Morocco | Right | October 23, 2014

(My dad had heard from a few friends of ours that it’s a good idea to wax the outdoors brick floors so they don’t absorb water. They gave him the name of the brand they use. He’s the slightly moronic customer in this one. We don’t speak French, and they rarely speak English in this area.)

Dad: “I need [Brand] so I can wax our brick floors.”

Employee: *points to bucket*  “It’s for preparing walls before you put on tiles.”

Dad: “No, no, it’s for waxing floors!”

Employee: “Nnnnno, it’s for preparing walls before you tile.”

Dad: “No, it’s not! I need to talk to your expert.”

(An expert comes over, and tries to explain repeatedly what my dad is trying to buy.)

Expert: “This is for preparing walls before you tile.”

Dad: “You’re ALL clearly very wrong.”

(My dad marched out of the store with a five-litre bucket. The bad news: My dad painted the entire roof terrace with sticky stuff meant to help tiles stick to the wall. The good news: He did a really neat job, and it _almost_ doesn’t feel like you’ve stepped in dry soda anymore.)

The Blade Isn’t As Sharp As The Employee

| NH, USA | Right | October 20, 2014

(A customer comes in with a an 8 1/2″ circular saw blade and he wants to return it.)

Customer: “This blade isn’t going to work for me.”

Me: “Oh, do you want to go down and see what would work for you?”

Customer: “No, I just want to get my money back.”

Me: “Well, in that case, sir, do you have your receipt?”

Customer: “No, I threw it away.”

Me: “Oh, let’s see if I can find you in the system.”

(Our system holds transactions for about three months. It is easy to find a customer if they paid with a card.)

Me: “Um, I’m sorry, sir. I am not able to find you in the system. When did you buy this saw blade?”

Customer: “I was in here yesterday!”

(The customer is getting a bit irritated.)

Me: “Do you have our [Business] rewards card, sir?”

Customer: “F***, no! Why would I have your s****-a** card?!”

Me: “In that case, sir, would you hold on a moment? It looks like I’ll need to get my manager because this is not in the system at all.”

(I call my manager over and he asks all the questions I already did. I notice something is off: we carry this particular brand but we only stock one at a time, which is what the computer says we have currently. Sure enough, when I got to the shelf, that particular blade is missing, I head back up to my manager and pull him aside.)

Me: *very quietly* “Sir, I have reason to believe that the customer is trying to return a stolen item.”

(The customer is getting quite fidgety and very annoyed.)

Manager: *to the customer* “Sir, I’m going to call the cops. Not only did you steal this, you tried to return it by getting what it was worth out of us as well. We have your face and license plate’s number on our cameras.”

(The man bolted out of the store and ran away leaving the saw blade on the counter. I got 100 bucks for catching a shoplifter!)  

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