Giving Them Credit For Enduring For So Long

, , , , , | Right | August 9, 2017

(I work at a popular home improvement store. During the morning, the fire alarm had gone off and because of it, I am partially deaf. This happens ten or so minutes after the alarm is turned off.)

Me: *picks up phone* “Appliances. How can I help you?”

Customer: *muffled voice & thick accent* “Yes, I mmmph fridge mmmph pick up mmph thirty mmmph house.”

Me: “…I’m sorry, did you say you wanted a fridge delivered to your house in thirty minutes?”

Customer: “Yes. I mmmph mmph like 5 or 6 mmph. Your mmph website mmmph I like mmph want fridge.”

Me: “…sir, we won’t be able to deliver today. Our delivery is pushed out several days, and all of our appliances are delivered from a warehouse in Dallas, so—”

Customer: *muffled voice gets slightly clearer* “Oh, that’s fine. Whenever you can deliver it.”

Me: “Are you wanting to purchase over the phone?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “And you’re paying by credit card, correct?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: *begins setting up order despite still having a hard time hearing him*

Customer: “Can I pay for this in like a payment plan? How many months will it take?”

Me: “Well… uh, we have a [Company] credit card. You can get special financing. Six months no interest.”

Customer: “Yes. That.”

Me: “Do you have a [Company] account?”

Customer: “No. How do I get one?”

Me: “Well, you can apply either online on our website or in the store.”

Customer: “Can I apply over the phone?”

Me: “No, sir. The application needs your social security number and state ID, and that is information I am not allowed to take over the phone.”

Customer: “Oh, okay. So, just apply online?”

Me: “Yes. If you go to the top section, there’s a button that says ‘Credit Center.’ Click that.”

Customer: “Let me just make sure I’m on the right website.”

Me: “…sir, you told me earlier you were on our website.”

Customer: “Yes, but I want to make sure it’s the right one. Is it spelled [spells out website]?”

Me: “Yes. That is correct.”

Customer: “Okay, I clicked it.”

Me: “All right. You should see the application page. It’ll probably take you about five minutes. You can call me back when you’re done.”

Customer: *ignores what I’ve just said* “Do I fill out my name?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “And my address?”

Me: “…yes.”

Customer: “And my phone number?”

Me: “…yess…”

Customer: “…and my annual salary?”

Me: “…yesss…”

(This continues on for the entire application and I end up having to stay on the line with him while he waited three minutes for his application to process — which didn’t approve him.)

Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 15

| RI, USA | Right | August 2, 2017

(I am pregnant, quite close to my due date, and obviously showing it even through my boxy work uniform. This occurs during a (so far) normal transaction as I am returning an item for a customer approximately in his fifties.)

Customer: “So, you’re pregnant?”

Me: *smiling* “Yup!”

Customer: “How’d that happen?”

Me: “Uh… well… um…”

Customer: *cheerfully* “You’d be surprised, the different answers I get with that one.”

Me: *speechless*

Sexism Hasn’t Got Your Back

| FL, USA | Working | July 26, 2017

(I have back problems so I can’t lift anything too heavy. My mom is redoing the garden and asks me to go to the home improvement store to pick up a bunch of bags of rocks for decoration. My back doesn’t affect my driving so I hop over and start looking for the bags. Upon finding them, I track down an employee and ask for some help loading them on a cart.)

Me: “Hi, I’d like to get about ten bags of these rocks over here. Can you or someone else help me out with loading them onto a cart, please?”

Employee #1: “Yeah, I’ll be there in a moment.”

Me: “Thank you.”

(About a minute later, he brings over a flatbed cart, smiles, and starts to leave.)

Me: “Excuse me, I also need some help in putting them on the cart and putting them in my car, please.”

Employee #1: “But you’re a guy! You can do that.”

Me: “Actually, I have a back issue and I can’t lift anything too heavy.”

Employee #1: “But you’re a guy! You’re supposed to be strong! I’m not going to lift heavy bags for a guy!”

(A little annoyed at the sexism, I decide to let it go and just ask him to get another employee for me.)

Employee #1: “Fine, I’ll get somebody.”

(He leaves and nobody comes for a few minutes. I figure he’s not going to help so I track down another employee who helps me without question. Upon bringing the cart up to pay, who should be the cashier but the unhelpful employee.)

Employee #1: “See? You got those yourself! I knew you didn’t need anybody to help you!”

Me: “Actually, that employee over there helped me.”

(I pointed to the employee who had helped, as she said she’d also help me load them into the car.)

Employee #2: “Are we good to go?”

Me: “Still have to pay for it.”

Employee #1: “Why are you helping him? He’s a man and should be able to do it himself!”

Employee #2: “Um, it’s our job to help them. Plus, he has a back problem and can’t do it himself. Just ring it up so we can finish.”

(He begrudgingly processed the transaction. As the woman was loading the bags for me, I asked for her name and the man’s name. I call later to commend the woman, and make a complaint about the man. Apparently, this was not the first time the man had done something like this.)

Like A Moth To A Chemical Flame

, , , , , | Friendly | July 23, 2017

(A couple, Friend #1 and Friend #2, are hosting a barbeque in their back garden. One of them spots a moth flying towards the garden, before it makes a turn and flies away instead.)

Friend #1: “Yes! It’s flying away!”

Me: “What is?”

Friend #1: “The moth!”

Me: “Why is that important?”

Friend #2: “When we moved in, the house had a moth infestation. [Friend #1] found a company that exterminates them and then treats your house to keep them away.”

Me: “Well, it seems to be working!”

Friend #2: “Yes, but he managed to find the one company in London that had a no-moth guarantee, or they come back for free. Every time [Friend #1] saw even a single moth in the house, he would call them and they’d come back and spray it all over again. Our house was just full of chemicals.”

Me: “How many times?”

Friend #1: “Five times!”

Me: “Wow! And so now you don’t have moths?”

Friend #2: “No, but now we have cancer.”

The Sale Went Down The Toilet

| TX, USA | Right | July 10, 2017

Me: “Hello, did you find everything all right today?”

Customer: “Yeah.”

Me: *rings up two toilets and some lightbulbs*

Customer: *looking over receipt*

Customer: “Those toilets were $166 each, not $188.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I can’t apply a markdown after you’ve already paid. If you take your receipt to returns just down there—” *points* “—they’ll be able to help you out. Are you sure they were $166? Usually the computer will mark them down automatically.”

Customer: “Yes, they were f****** $166. And I want you to fix it now.”

Me: “Sir, I can’t fix it for you here. To get your money back you’ll have to go to returns.”

Customer: “Well, I’d like to see your manager.”

Me: “Sure, no problem.” *calls for manager on overhead PA*

Customer: “GOOD.”

Manager: “Hello. What’s going on, sir?”

Customer: “This idiot can’t give me a refund and is lying about the toilet prices.”

Manager: “Sir, to get a refund you must go to the returns desk. I’m sure our cashier here has already told you that. About the price though, do you want to take me to where you found the toilets and confirm that they did ring up incorrectly?”

Customer: “Yeah. Let’s go.” *wanders off*

(Ten minutes later the manager comes back rolling his eyes, the customer is not with him.)

Manager: “I knew we weren’t having any toilets on sale. That moron was just making it up to either get a discount or get you in trouble.”

(The customer comes back in the store.)

Customer: “Just so you know, I’m going to [Competing Store] from now on!”

Manager: “Good! Maybe you’ll drive their customers over here with your sh**ty attitude!”

Customer: *storms out*

(The whole store knows about this guy by now.)

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