Santa To The Rescue!

, , , , | Right | January 13, 2019

(I work at a very small jewelry store known for its crystals. Our store is so small that having ten people in it makes it feel overcrowded. The cash register is right next to our back room. There is no sign on our back room that says staff only. As the store is in a local mall, all the core group associates have left to take a pic with Santa and send the pic to HR, leaving just us seasonals in the store.)


(I am new to this job and have been hired JUST AS A CASHIER. That means that while I was trained on all the jewelry, I am by no means knowledgeable. The manager gets mad when I help guests because the other workers get paid on commission while I don’t.)

Me: *as I start cashing out a new person* “Someone, will be right with you, ma’am.”

Customer: “Don’t call me, ma’am.”

Me: “Sorry.”

(She stays on the side tapping her foot as I cash the person out. Out of the corner of my eye I see her push open our back room door. I jump in front of her.)

Me: “Ma’am, you cannot go back there.”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “That’s our back room for staff only.”

Customer: “I don’t see any signs saying that.”

Me: “Regardless, you cannot go back there.”

(She actually has me stumped because while common sense says that it’s obviously not for guests, there is no sign. It could’ve been a washroom or something for all she knows.)

Customer: “I know what I want. Let me get it!”

Me: “I cannot do that. I promise someone will be with you soon.” *I raise my hand and try to get noticed by someone on the floor*


(I suffer from generalized anxiety disorder and am starting to feel hot and anxious as this customer gets more irate, and guests are getting annoyed that I stopped cashing them out to deal with her. My manager comes back, still wearing the ridiculous Christmas gear she bought to take pictures with Santa, and sees me struggling with a guest.)

Manager: “How can I help you today?”

(I slide away and finish cashing out a guest as the manager deals with the customer.)

Me: “Your total is $125. How do you wish to pay?”

(The guest hands me $150.)

Me: “Oh you gave me too many $10’s.”

Guest: *winking* “The extras are for you.”

(I thanked her and put $150 amount in the cash register, put in $125, and pretended to pocket the rest. Once she left I opened the cash register and put the rest of the money in. It was a nice gesture but we weren’t allowed to take tips. But it showed that some people still have a heart, even though I could see my manager and security escorting the irate guest out.)

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This Customer Is Jade-d

, , , | Right | January 12, 2019

(I work in the jewelry department of a large store in New Zealand. We can’t sell New Zealand greenstone because of tribal rights to the stones (fair enough) so we sell Canadian jade carved in very similar ways.)

Me: *showing customer one of our jade necklaces*

Customer: “So what is it?”

Me: “It’s a pendant made from Canadian jade.”

Customer: “No, I mean what’s it made from.”

Me: “It’s… Canadian jade.”

Customer: *has a puzzled expression on her face*

Me: *sees this and continues to explain* “It’s… jade… from… Canada.”

Customer: *very rudely scoffs* “Well, I could have guessed that!”

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Secret Santa Banter

, , , , , | Working | December 25, 2018

(My jewelry store is having a Secret Santa exchange and it cannot be a gift card. I am a seasonal associate, and therefore haven’t really known these people that well, so I have to guess at what my person will like. As I am underage, I have limited options on what I can buy; all my other coworkers love to drink. My person wrote down that she likes a specific tea shop; since there is one in the mall, I go there after work. I eventually choose a tea mug with a steeper and go to pay. I get a 10% mall discount in all food locations, so I decide to ask if that applies to this tea shop on non-food items.)

Me: “Can I get my mall discount?” *points to my nametag*

Associate: “Sure, where do you work?”

Me: “[Famous Jewelry Store].”

Associate: *looking skeptical* “Really?” *looks me up and down* “But you’re so young!”

Me: *laughing* “Yeah, I’m the youngest there. They hired me exactly on my 18th birthday. That’s why I wear my nametag; people never believe me.”

Associate: “I am so glad you laughed. As soon as I said it, I was worried it would be taken the wrong way.”

Me: “Hard day?”

(We talked for about ten minutes about bad customers and exchanged Facebooks. I drop by the store every shift to say hi.)

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“Never Coming Back Again” Means You’ll See Them Tomorrow

, , , , | Right | November 29, 2018

(I work in a well-known jewelry store, but I’m just a cashier.)

Guest: “Do I have any discounts?”

Me: “Let me check.” *types in her name* “Oh, you had one, but it expired yesterday.”

Guest: “Oh, this always happens. I keep on having discounts but they never show up. This always happens.”

Me: “Oh… Sorry.”

Guest: “Last time, the manager manually put it in.”

Me: “Oh, well, my manager is on break so—”

Guest: “Oh, okay. This happens every time. I’m never shopping here again.”

Me: *printing her receipt* “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

(After the guest left, I typed in her name again and checked her history. Her history would show every discount she had ever gotten. There was only one discount on her history, the one that expired. I rolled my eyes. Did she really expect me to just GIVE her a discount?)

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Getting Your Moissanite’s Worth

, , , , , | Working | November 24, 2018

(One of my dad’s friends refers us to a jeweler who is selling his laptop on Craigslist, and I volunteer to check it out. I just got engaged two months prior, and my fiancée had insisted on giving me a moissanite ring that many of my retail customers and coworkers had mistaken for a diamond. I also have a habit of talking with my hands, and using them in new ways to describe nouns and objects, which people somehow get offended by because it seems to them like I’m “showing off.” I’m in the ritziest part of Snobsdale, at a super fancy-looking jewelry store. I already don’t want to deal with this part of town because I never feel, despite my appearance in a white, button-down shirt and pressed, black slacks, that I can blend in with the ultra-rich people who frequent stores like the one I’m walking into.)

Woman: *in a somewhat snobbish tone* “Hello. Can I help you?” *noting my messy hair in a clip on top of my head* “Are you lost?”

Me: “[Manager] asked me to meet here—” *points at counter* “—to pick up a laptop. *makes a square with my hands*

Woman: *grabs my hand* “Oh! What a beautiful ring! Do you want to sell it?”

Me: “Uh, no? I’m here for the laptop? [Manager] has it.”

Woman: “I would love to add it to—” *sweeps hand over a large selection of $20k+ diamond rings* “—my collection here. Oh, your ring would be the star!” *prattles on about it’s supposed clarity and quality*

Me: *peruses rings briefly, noting the large price tags, and trying to get my hand away from her* “Um… Wow. Soooo… Where is [Manager]?”

Manager: *singing his greeting* “Helloooooooooo!”

Me: “Hi, I’m [My Name], here for the laptop.”

Manager: “Oh, yes, that’ll be $150.”

(I inspect the laptop, find everything in order and perfectly running, according to the ad, and hand over the money. The manager is talking to me while I’m running the laptop through its paces, and I’m generally feeling happier and less self-conscious about being there.)

Woman: “So, how long are you going to be with running the laptop like crazy? I’m sure [Manager] would like to see your ring.”

Me: *happily* “Hopefully not too long; I have to make sure that [Manager]’s 100% here, and that it can run all these programs at the same time.” *shows him my ring*

Manager: “Oh, my God. Oh, wow. That is gorgeous. Is it real?”

Me: “It exists.”

Manager: “Uh, oh, I, uh… I, hmm… I mean, is it a diamond?”

Me: “No.”

Woman: *talking over me* “Of course it’s a diamond! I know my jewels!” *prattles on about the supposed clarity and quality again, then looks at me* “I’ll give you thirty-two thousand dollars for it.”

Me: *coughs and looks at her, surprised* “I… I’m sorry, what? If my fiancée ever spent thirty-two thousand dollars on a ring, I… I’d kill him and bring him back to life so I could kill him again! That’s a house’s do—”

Woman: “Oh, I’m sure it’s not that big of a deal, really! It’s just money! Besides, you’re a well-dressed lady with an eye for fashion. It’s just money, honey!”

Me: Wow.” *holds up ring* “The street value on this ring will never match its sentimental value.”

(Both of them laugh in the most snobby way I have ever heard in my life. At the time, I didn’t know about the wands that can tell a diamond from a moissanite. I would have suggested she check the ring if I had! My running the laptop through its paces is over, so I turn it off, hand him the cash, and put the laptop in the bag he gave me.)

Woman: “So, you won’t consider the offer?”

Me: “Nope! It’s actually a—”

Woman: “It’s a gorgeous cut, amazing clarity, and would sell very quickly.”

Me: “I’m sure it would, but it has a sentimental value that far exceeds anything you could offer me.”

Manager: “No counteroffer? Not even in trade for a ring here?” *sweeps hand over vast selection of rings, and starts in a high-pitched voice* “‘Oh, honey, you’ll never believe what I got at [Jewelry Store]! Oh, and ten thousand dollars cash, can you believe it?’” *resumes his normal tone* “All you’d have to do is trade it in for a 3/4 carat, and we’ll give you cash.”

Me: *now angry, because they’ve interrupted me at least twice now* “I said no! It’s a—”

Manager: “Of course, if you reconsider, the offer stands.”

Me: *a little angrier now* “And I won’t take it! Wow, y’all are persistent about this moissanite!” *points at the manager* “Another word out of your mouth, dude, and you can give me the money back, and you can keep this laptop!”

(I turn around and hear him quietly say “Wow!” as I continue walking. I put the laptop bag down.)

Me: *whirls back around on one foot and walks back towards them* “Okay. Money back, now.”

Manager: “No!”

Me: “Money. Now.”

Woman: *smugly* “The transaction was finished to your satisfaction; you can’t make him.”

Me: “And you can’t make me give up my moissanite for any price! Ever! Stop insisting! It’s real, because it exists, and lady, if you knew jewelry, you’d know how to tell the difference at a glance!”

Woman: *flustered that I questioned her talent* “Oh, just give her the money back, honey!”

Manager: *rolls eyes* “Pfffft, fine…” *hands me the money back*

(I put the laptop on one of the display cases and walked out. Several days later, I found my dad a better laptop, and paid the difference in price myself. My husband still jokes with me, whenever I tell friends this story, that I should have sold the ring and gotten ten more like it to sell them. I keep on being bothered by that pesky ethics thingy.)

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