(We are checking out when we hear this:)
Worker #1: *motioning to garden hose that has fallen on the floor* “What happened to this hose?”
Worker #2: *without hesitating* “It wasn’t loyal?”
(It’s Halloween night, a while ago before everyone had cell phones. I’m in college and my friends and I have been to an off campus Halloween Party. Being under 21, I am sober and the designated driver. Halfway back to the dorm, my car breaks down. Luckily we are able to pull the car into the parking lot of a popular DIY hardware and building supply store. We decide to see if we could use their phone. The lights are on, but the store closed about 10 minutes ago. Since we were in a bind, I knock lightly on the glass doors.)
Me: “Hello?”
(There are several men inside. All of them fit and strong, like what you’d expect from an employee of a building supply store. They clearly make eye contact, but they aren’t coming to help. Finally one man gets close enough to the glass doors that I feel like he could hear me.)
Me: “My car broke down; could I just step inside and use your phone, please?”
(He looks at me oddly and scurries to the back of the store, out of sight. I assume he has gone to get the keys to the front doors. My friends and I feel relieved and we wait patiently. A long time passes and we start to feel uneasy. No one has returned to the front. Just when I’m considering WALKING the five or so miles to the university in my high heels, a police car pulls into the parking lot. We are all relieved that we might finally get some help. The cop pulls up to our location.)
Me: “Hello, sir! I wonder if you could help us out! My car broke down. I have AAA; I just need to borrow a phone so I can call them.”
Cop: “How long have you been out here?”
Me: “About 45 minutes. We tried to flag down the guys inside the store, but they never came back.”
(The cop starts cracking up. My friends and I are totally taken aback.)
Cop: “I got a call from the guys in the store…”
Me: “Oh, I guess they just didn’t feel comfortable letting us in after closing.”
Cop: “They said there were some scary people trying to get into the store…”
(I look at my friends. We are all 20 years old, dressed as a sexy angel, a sexy witch, and I was dressed as a sexy French maid.)
Me: “Three hopeless, sexy, college chicks in need of help is… scary?”
Cop: “I think they were intimidated. You should probably get used to that. Now, let’s see if I can help you ladies out.”
(About one year ago, I was hired to be a cashier. Since that time, I have spent most of my time at the desk near the entrance, processing returns. I am called into my manager’s office for my yearly review.)
Manager: “First, I have to say you are doing a great job. In your first year you have personally prevented almost $10,000 worth of theft and fraudulent returns.”
Me: “Thank you, sir. I try my best.”
Manager: “On the other hand, I am going to have to insist that you stop treating everybody that comes in as if you think they are stealing.”
Me: “…Sir?”
Manager: “You open every box that is returned and check every single part to make sure it is there. We have received multiple complaints about it.”
Me: “Isn’t that what I am supposed to do? I remember being told to do exactly that when I was trained.”
Manager: “Nevertheless, I am going to have to give you a two out of five on your eval, and give you a written counseling on how to provide Excellent Customer Service.”
Me: “…”
Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. How may I direct your call?”
Customer: “Yeah, I was calling to see if you sell bullets?”
Me: “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”
Customer: “Do you sell bullets? Like for reloading?”
Me: *thinking maybe he is confused and needs the ‘bullet’ CO2 cartridges we sell for some of our air-powered nailers* “Bullets… as in bullets for guns, or…?”
Customer: “Yes! Bullets! For shooting!”
Me: “I’m sorry, sir, we do not. We sell home improvement items and bullets are not a home improvement item.”
Customer: “…Are you sure?”
Customer: “Are you deaf or something? I was trying to talk to you and you ignored me like an idiot!”
Me: “Yes, sir. Sorry, I was blown up by a landmine in Afghanistan and it destroyed most of my hearing in that side.”
(All the while I put on the most offended and hurt face I could muster. The customer’s face was quite possibly the best “I need to rethink my life” face ever.)
