This Complaint Is Older Than Most Veterans

, , , , , | Right | July 4, 2020

I am a twenty-one-year-old female and I work at a well-known bedding and housewares store. I am working opening shift on July 4th as the main cashier when an older man comes in.

Customer: “Do you have a windshield cleaner with replacement pads?”

Me: “Hmm, we have two kinds in the store. Let me show you the first that’s just up front here!”

I walk out from behind the counter and lead him to where one of the two kinds is hanging. I point to it.

Me: “We have this one here, the [Brand]. Is this it?”

The customer suddenly raises his voice.

Customer: “No! I want a windshield cleaner with replacement pads! That’s not it!”

His volume and tone are making me nervous.

Me: “Okay! Well, we have another type that is further back in the store. Let me call another employee to the front and they can help you find it!”

I walk away and call over the walkie-talkie for another employee. Since I am the main cashier, I have to stay within a certain area near the main registers. I walk back behind the counter just as my coworker comes up. I introduce him to the customer and explain what he is looking for.

Me: “He’s looking for windshield cleaners, and it’s the other one, not [Brand].”

My coworker nods and looks at the man, but he interrupts before my coworker can say anything.

Customer: “I need a windshield cleaner with replacement pads! And not that one on the wall!”

Coworker: “Hmm…”

My coworker walks over to a newly-placed bin with the second kind of windshield cleaner in it. He takes one out and shows it to the customer.

Coworker: “Is this it?”

Customer: “Yeah, I guess so.”

He takes it, my coworker thanks him and walks off. The man approaches the counter I am at in order to pay.

Me: *Smiles sheepishly* “I’m sorry about that, sir! They must have put the bin up yesterday when I wasn’t in and I didn’t get a chance to notice it. It’s crazy how much a store can change when you’re gone, even in such a short time!”

The customer tosses the cleaner on the counter.

Customer: “Yeah, right, you just don’t want to serve veterans! None of you do!”

Me: *Startled* “No, sir! Actually, my dad and grandfather are both vet—”

The customer ignores me and interrupts, leaning on the counter and getting very close to my face.

Customer: “Don’t lie to me! I know the truth!”

He takes out his wallet and begins pulling out a bill. I’m already overly sensitive to loud noises and shouting, and him getting so close only makes the whole situation worse, so I am shaking by this point, but I manage to put on a smile.

Me: “All right, that will be $10.59.”

He pulls out $11.00 and hands it to me, picks up his item, and starts to head toward the exit around the counter. I quickly finish ringing out his order.

Me: “Oh, sir, do you want your change?”

Customer: “Yes.”

He continues walking toward the exit as he holds his hand out toward me. I plop his change into his open hand.

Me: “Have a good day!”

Customer: *Nods* “Have a happy July 4th.”

Me: *Confused* “You, too!”

Customer: “Oh, you’ve already made it better!”

He said it in a genuine tone. Then, he walked out. I was stunned. I fully respect veterans and I entirely understand that July 4th can be a bad day for some of them, as I assume was the case here, but still, this was a startling and bizarre scenario for sure!

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A Ditz Of A Different Color

, , , , | Related | July 1, 2020

My sister has always been a bit ditzy — she even proclaims that she’s living proof that “blonde is not just a hair color” — but ironically, one of her ditziest moments ever comes about the night after she decides to dye her hair blonde while we are in junior high school.  

We live out in a semi-rural area, so we have to wake up at six in the morning in order to be showered, dressed, fed breakfast, and ready to catch the school bus at seven. One morning, my sister shakes me awake with the following announcement:

Sister: “We overslept! It’s six-thirty! You gotta hurry or we’ll miss the bus!”

Me: *Groggy* “But… I didn’t hear the alarm…”

Sister: “There was a power outage! It shut off the alarm! Get in the shower!”

Still groggy and fuzzy, I get in the shower while my sister hurries to whip up some breakfast and get us ready to go. Then, she sticks her head into the bedroom where my mom and stepdad are asleep.

Sister: “[Stepdad]! You overslept! Get up; you’ll be late for work!”

Stepdad: *Wakes up* “[Sister], it’s twelve-thirty in the morning.”

Sister: “No, it’s not! The clocks are wrong! There was a power outage!”

Stepdad: “I’m looking at my watch.”

Sister: “It’s wrong; there was a power outage!”

Stepdad: “How is a power outage going to affect my watch?”

Mom: *Sniffs* “Are you… making pancakes?”

Sister: “Yeah, we gotta hurry and eat breakfast before the bus comes!”

Somehow, they finally manage to convince her that it isn’t even one in the morning and she has several hours before she has to catch the bus. Mom then finds me in the shower, still half-asleep.

Mom: “Your sister read the clock wrong. It’s twelve-thirty, not six-thirty. Dry off and go back to bed.”

Me: “Oh. No wonder it felt like I’d only been asleep for an hour.”

To this day, we still don’t know how my sister decided a power outage would affect every single clock in the house, even watches and battery-operated clocks. My stepdad’s explanation was that she dyed her hair blonde the night before and “the chemicals went straight to her brain.”

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Unfiltered Story #199795

, , | Unfiltered | June 29, 2020

Our library has an extremely open donation policy — namely, that we’ll accept anything and everything as a donation, even if we have to throw it away five minutes after the contributor walks out the door. We have very generous patrons who have given us a lot of nice books, DVDs, and other materials over the years, but there are a few who use us as an opportunity to dump old, damaged, and otherwise unusable materials on us and get a tax write-off in return.

As one of my tasks is to sort donations and decide what we can use, what gets boxed up for the bi-annual book sale, and what gets thrown away, I’ve seen just about everything get donated — pornography and erotica, home videos mixed in with VHS tapes, vinyl records, computer programs for utterly obsolete Operating Systems, books in various foreign languages, books so mouse-eaten or water-damaged they’re illegible, etc. — but one particularly memorable donation stands out.

This particular donation was about 40 boxes of books, among them several boxes of Christian literature. There was everything from old Bibles and hymnals to books about keeping oneself pure for marriage, avoiding pornography, the evils of adultery and homosexuality, etc. And then, right in the middle of all these religious books, was a single copy of “Fifty Shades of Gray.”

I try very hard not to judge people for what they read, but the complete irony of THIS infamous book stuck in a box of religious literature was too funny not to share with my co-workers… or Not Always Right.

Unfiltered Story #197589

, , | Unfiltered | June 24, 2020

I work as a stocker in Walmart (generally I stock Cosmetics/Personal Hygein/Pharmacy, but today (the other day which was Monday), they decided to put me on grocery. Now me working on the other side of the store, I have no idea where anything is. So I’m stocking things in the past/Asian/Latino isle and as I said, I have no clue where anything goes. So I’m going about my own business, stocking and helping out customers as best as I possibly can and asking other associates when I had a question. Then a customer comes up to me and asks, “where are the noodles?” And I asked her “the dry noodles?” And she said “yes.” So I pointed to the end of the isle and told her “the noodles are at the end of the isle and on the right.” And she stood there looking to where I was pointing, looking super confused. And she asked “the Italian style?” And I said “yes, if it’s pasta, it will be down this isle.” She stood there for a few more seconds still looking confused so I said again, “the pasta is down on the right at the end of the isle where it says ‘Pasta’, there’s a sign that says ‘Pasta’ above.” And the woman, still standing with the same look on her face says “on the other side of the isle?” And I told her once more, “there’s a sign on this isle that clearly says ‘Pasta’.” And she’s still standing there and then she says “ok.” And leaves out of the isle and turns LEFT. Then, after she leaves, and older man walks up to me and asks me “excuse me, where are the tortillias?” TORTILLIAS. REALLY. So I said “oh, the tortillas?” And he said “yes.” SIR. YOURE HOW OLD AND YOU DONT KNOW HOW TO SAY TORTILLAS?! YOU LOOK TO BE 50/60 AND YOU DONT KNOW. WHAT. THE. HECK. You never notice just how many strange things happen in a store until you work there……

Unfiltered Story #195894

, , | Unfiltered | June 6, 2020

(I work at a big chain retail store. I deal with accessories mainly a customer stops me and asks where the bandanas are.)
Me: unfortunately all we have right now in this department is Halloween ones but men’s usually has some as well I’m not sure where but if you go to the fitting room they can help you
Customer: well can’t you show me where they are
Me: I don’t know where they are so I wouldn’t be much help but the person at the fitting room can help you
Customer: well why can’t you do it you work here don’t you
Me: unfortunately I don’t know where they got moved to and since I don’t work that department there’s no way for me to know but (coworker) at the fitting room can help you with that
Customer: then why don’t you get me a manager to show me where they are since you won’t
(As I walk over to the phone I hear him stop another associate and ask them and they tell him the same thing I did. Before I could call for a manager he stormed off)