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The “Tired” Jokes Practically Write Themselves

, , , , , , | Right | December 4, 2022

My only retail job was at a big box department store. This was the most fearful night of the year: Black Friday. There was a policy that if someone said an item was on sale and the price difference was less than $5, we gave them the discount.

One customer came through my line with a small tire. I didn’t even know we had those. It rang up as $54.

Customer: “It’s only supposed to be $5!”

She quickly showed me a photo of an empty display with a $5 tag. I called a floor person, who came up, and I explained. He heard “$5” and started to give the customer $5 off.

Me: “No, she’s saying this $54 item is $5.”

He froze for a moment. Then, he called a coworker on his radio and quickly reported back.

Floor Employee: “Not on sale.”

The customer didn’t take the tire and continued to complain. The floor person later apologized.

Straight To The Top Of The Naughty List

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: communismdontwork | December 1, 2022

I’m a sixty-five-year-old male with a full, white beard and a well-earned beer gut. Just after Thanksgiving, I am shopping at a fairly nice mall-anchoring department store. Now, to be fair to the woman in this story, I am wearing a bright red hoodie — but with old, nicely broken-in jeans and gray hiking boots. It is absolutely nothing like the business casual attire of the store employees — also nowhere near a full Santa suit. (I know; I’ve got one.)

I am browsing the kid’s clothing, trying to find something cute for one of my granddaughters, when I hear, “EXCUSE ME!” at a fairly high volume from somewhere behind me. Naturally, I ignore it, although I say a quick prayer for whatever luckless individual it is actually directed at.

Silly me. The next thing to break my shopping focus is a painfully forceful three-fingered blow to my shoulder, hard enough to make me take an extra half-step for balance.

I whip around to face my assailant, stepping back to open up space, my left hand coming up with fist clenched. This startles a squawk from this woman with an elementary-age-looking child in tow. She takes a half-step back and I relax a bit. We eye each other for a half-second or so in silence, and I recover first.

Me: “What is wrong with you? Why did you hit me?”

She is very contrite, mumbles an apology, and flees.

Just kidding!

Woman: *Screeching* “I did no such thing! And if you weren’t ignoring customers, I wouldn’t have had to!”

Me: “I don’t wo—”

Woman: “Now, take me to your village or whatever! My niece wants her picture with you!”

Me: “Wha…?”

I think my brain locked for a second trying to make sense of this nonsensical topic shift.

Woman: “You know, where you take pictures of kids!”

Me: “Lady, I’m not a photographer.”

I’m totally confused now.

Woman: “Of course not! The kids sit on you and get their picture taken! What kind of Santa are you?”

My brain gears finally start meshing and I remember the color of my sweatshirt.

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not Santa. I’m a shopper just like you.”

Puzzlement finally replaced entitled wrath on her face.

Woman: “Well, well… then you shouldn’t dress like one! You’re just a… a… tease!”

Me: *Shaking my head* “So, I shouldn’t wear jeans?”

The woman stalked away without another word.

No Dialing Back The Entitlement On Black Friday

, , | Right | November 25, 2022

I worked in a women’s clothing store when I was in uni. We were known for having pretty decent prices while also having really good deals and promotions.

The first Black Friday I worked, it was absolutely insane. We had a really good promotion going on so the store was packed. The line to the till was literally almost out the door. Between running to get stock, checking on customers in the dressing room, and just being there to help, I was suddenly stopped by this middle-aged woman.

Customer: *In a pleasant tone* “Hey! I was wondering if you could help me!”

Me: “Of course! What do you need help with?”

Customer: “Well, you see, I want to return this shirt, but I have a wedding to go to in twenty minutes. I was wondering if I could skip the line to get my return done since I’m in a hurry.”

I literally stared at her in disbelief. How could this woman miss the long line snaking across the store (we were one of the biggest stores in our chain) and out the doors and think it was appropriate to skip the whole d*** line?!

Me: “No, but if you get out your receipt as you stand in line, that will help make the return go more quickly once it’s your turn.”

She looked at me like she’d never heard the word no, huffed, and walked out.

As happy as I was that she didn’t yell at me or make a scene, especially on Black Friday, I still question how entitled she had to be to request skipping the whole line as if she was more important. I’m so glad I’m out of retail.

On Black Friday It Will Smell Like The Black Death

, , , , | Right | November 25, 2022

I work in a clothing chain and it is Black Friday, so it is heaving. A customer comes out of the dressing room. The wait to use the dressing room is about forty minutes long.

Customer: “The floor in your dressing room smells like feet.”

Me: “Sorry, sir. It’s very busy today, and—”

Customer: “I want a discount on my jeans because of it.”

Me: “I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.”

Customer: “I don’t want this, then.”

The customer stares at me as he sloooooowly places the super-discounted pair of jeans into the returns tray. He is daring me to stop him and save myself the distress of losing such a valuable sale.

I do nothing.

Customer: “You think I’m bluffing!”

Me: “No, sir. I think you’ve waited forty minutes to try on a pair of $25 jeans on Black Friday and you still want to get it cheaper.”

He harrumphed loudly and stormed off, tossing the jeans on the floor.

It was a long day.

More Registers, Less Patience

, , , , , , , , | Right | November 25, 2022

It is Black Friday, and it’s my last one before I leave retail to go to college. I was hoping to avoid this holiday but it looks like I have to endure one more.

One thing that always gets me about Black Friday is that many customers are shocked that there are lines on the busiest shopping day of the year. This year, however, is my last year, and my patience is running out.

I am checking out my line as fast as I can. Our store opened at midnight, and it is now almost three in the morning. The woman behind my current customer is trying to cause a scene. She has two young children who are arguing and grouchy (and who likely should be asleep). The children also keep kicking the customer I am currently serving, who has told them to stop, but their mother has done nothing.

Next Customer: “Why don’t you open more registers?!”

Me: “We currently have twenty-four registers, ma’am, and all are open.”

Next Customer: “Then you should build more!”

Me: “Build more? For one shopping day of the year?”

Next Customer: “Well, yeah! You need to build more and hurry up! I have kids!”

Current Customer: “Well, ma’am, we all make mistakes, don’t we?”