I work as a supervisor at a popular thrift store. We are allowed to adjust prices for valid reasons, i.e. damage that was unnoticed when priced or has occurred after the item made it on the floor, items that are obviously mispriced, etc.

Employee: “The lady wants to know if we can adjust the price for these boots.”

Me: “Did she give a reason why?”

Employee: “Uhm, they are a bit tight on her?”

Me: “Seriously?”

I look over the boots and the price to make sure they are accurately priced.

Me: “No, we can’t. They are priced correctly. Them not being her size isn’t really our problem.”

She ended up buying them anyway, so I guess they weren’t that tight!

Customer: “I bought this new laptop, but I didn’t like the look of the touchpad so I bought an external wireless mouse to use instead. But it’s not working.”

Me: “Did your mouse come with a little Bluetooth receiver?”

Customer: “Yes, it did.”

Me: “Okay, have you plugged that in?”

Customer: “No, I haven’t.”

Okay, good; this’ll be easy, I figure.

Me: “Plug it in and tell me what prompts you see.”

She sighs angrily to herself, and after a few seconds:

Customer: “Nothing came up.”

Me: “Try moving the mouse.”

Customer: *Angrily* “Yeah, it moves.”

Me: “Great! Problem solved!”

Nope.

Customer: “Okay, but I don’t want this Bluetooth thing connected. What’s the point of buying it if it has to be plugged in?”

Puzzled for a moment, I try to explain that it’s simply a reality of wireless mice, as well as a lot of wireless devices with laptops.

Customer: “Well, that’s insane. It’s needless! The computer already has one connected. I wanted an unconnected one! Now I have to deal with this Bluetooth lead with it getting in the way constantly!”

Again, puzzled, I ask her what brand wireless mouse she purchased so I can look it up and may get an idea of what she is talking about.

She reads the box. And, of course, it’s a wired mouse. That brand doesn’t even sell wireless mice.

Me: “Does the ‘Bluetooth lead’ connect to the mouse physically?”

Customer: “Yes! That’s the problem!”

Me: “You’ve bought a wired mouse. You need to return it and get a wireless one if that’s what you want.”

Customer: “But why can’t you just remove the lead? What’s the point of it being wireless if it has the lead?”

Me: “It’s not a wireless mouse, ma’am.”

Customer: “I’m aware of that, and that’s what I’m saying is the issue!”

Me: “Ma’am. The device you bought is not able to be wireless.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: *Pauses* “It wasn’t built that way. It was built to have the wire.”

Customer: “That’s pointless! The computer already has a connected mouse thing. Why would they sell one that can’t be wireless?”

Me: *Pauses longer* “Yeah, I don’t know. You should return it. Make sure they sell you a wireless one. Tell them you specifically want one that is Bluetooth and wireless.”

We are just finishing a session at an indoor soft play area — the type where you pay for an hour and the kids get to run around. This one is inside of a large shopping centre.

As we are leaving, we see a woman and her kids arguing with the staff right by the entrance. As we wait to be signed out we overhear this.

Mother: “What do you mean, we can’t come in?”

Worker: “I’m sorry, but your session is over; we can’t let you in as the next session is full.”

Mother: “But you told us that we needed socks, so I said that I was going to get some. You didn’t tell me that you wouldn’t let me in!”

Like most soft play areas, you can’t run around in bare feet and slip. Big signs are all over the entrance, and it is pretty normal practice.

Worker: “We did say that you would have to be back in time.”

Mother: “But I told you I was going to get socks.”

Worker: “And I’m sorry, but that was thirty-five minutes ago.”

Mother: *Angrily* “Come on, kids. Looks like she won’t let us in.”

There are three shops that sell socks, all a two-minute walk from the area. I noticed she was holding four very full bags of shopping. Rather than grab a pair of socks and then rush back, she must have done her entire weekly shop and then come back to shout at staff for her own mistake.

The comic book store I work at does trade-ins for cash and makes a lot of money reselling vintage and hard-to-find comics. If it is a trade-in under $500, we are allowed to do it without the owner’s permission. A middle-aged man comes into the store with a long box full of comics, announcing he wants to make a trade-in.

Customer: “I have a lot of older Marvel and DC issues in here, gonna make a killing off of this. Probably be able to pay off my car with what is in here!”

Me: “That would be great, wouldn’t it? All right, if you want to leave this here, I can appraise everything and get you an offer in a few hours.”

The customer agrees and leaves. I let my coworker take over and start looking at what he brought in. His “older” comics are all X-Men, Spider-Man, and Superman issues… from the 1990s. These are virtually worthless. There are over 200 issues, and after pricing them all between a dime and a dollar each, his total comes up to maybe $50. When he comes back in, I have the printout of the value of the comics waiting for him.

Customer: “Well, little lady, how much am I going to be walking out with today?”

Me: “Well… not a lot, unfortunately. Here’s the breakdown of the current value of your comics.”

I hand him the list. His face gets red, and for a moment, I think he is going to either have a heart attack or come over the counter at me.

Customer: “These are mint condition. Mint! You priced these wrong!”

Me: “Sir, that is the value of the comics in mint condition. They’re not worth a lot. Most late 1980s to early 2000s comics are massively devalued.”

Customer: “But these are complete sets!”

Me: “Again, that doesn’t make them worth any more. The issues themselves just aren’t worth anything. I can show you if you want?”

He silently nods, and I turn my monitor around and pull up a few titles so he can see they truly are only worth a dime.

Customer: “Refresh it. That has to be old information.”

Me: “I can do that, but I don’t expect it to change.”

I refresh the page and nothing changes — still the same price.

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry. That is the price we can offer you for the whole box. I can pay you out in cash or a store gift certificate if you want.”

Customer: “I need at least two hundred more. Fifty won’t cut it.”

Me: “Sir, I can’t do that. Unless you have more comics to trade in that aren’t from the nineties?”

Customer: “Little lady, you don’t understand how good customer service works. It’s 250 or nothing.”

Me: “Then nothing it is. I can’t give you five times what these are worth and expect to keep my job. Have a good day.”

I passed the long box back to him, while he sputtered and tried to find a way to recover from his failed attempt at haggling. Giving up, he took his worthless comics and left.

We have about eight tables waiting, and I am bringing in a three-top to sit at one of our high-top tables, just as a lady and her friend are sitting down. This lady comes in frequently, usually by herself, and she’s just annoying.

Me: “I’m sorry, we are on a wait. I’m seating these folks, but I can put you on the list.”

I walk away for no more than a minute and come back.

Regular: “We know them! Can you add a couple of chairs for us?”

Me: *Looking around* “There are no open chairs or bar stools; every single one is taken right now.”

Regular: “What about next door? Can you take a couple from there? And why are they so busy?”

We have a separate bar next door that handles the people waiting and has TVs for games, etc.

Me: “No, we are at capacity due to [health crisis] restrictions, and they are so busy because there are eight parties waiting for tables!”

I admit I’m bulls***ting about the restrictions a little.

Next, the regular starts putting her coat and bag on a bar chair that just opened up, and my bartender tells her she needs to move it because we are going to seat some people there who have been WAITING.

Regular: *To me* “Gosh, I come here all the time. I just didn’t know what was going on. Wow, I just thought we could find a place to sit.”

I finally get her and her friend next door, and then I go back and take the order for the three-top that she had originally tried to join.

Customer: “Thank you so much for taking care of that! We barely know her. I worked with her like ten years ago, and it was really weird that she tried to join us.”