Unfiltered Story #122127

, , | Unfiltered | September 26, 2018

(Note: the mall kiosk I was in was located next to some vending machines. This led to many requests for change, which I wasn’t allowed to give)

Customer: (As I’m restocking inventory) Hi, I need ones for the machine. Can you break my 5?
Me: Oh, I’m sorry, but I can’t. Store policy says I can’t open the register unless I’m doing a sale. The food court is just around that corner though.
(He walks off, so I return to what I was doing, thinking that’s the end of it. Suddenly he’s in front if my face again.)
Customer: You CAN’T or you WON’T?! There’s a difference!
(He storms off before I can reply. He must have gotten change from somewhere, because a few minutes later he walks by again)
Customer: You’re too young to be such a b****!
(Storms over to the machines while I crack up laughing. Too bad he didn’t listen to me before. He could have gotten his soda a lot cheaper in the food court!)

Let’s Finnish While We’re Ahead

, , , , | Right | September 4, 2018

(I’m the stupid customer here. I’m a Dutch tourist in Helsinki, having a particular nasty vacation due to not picking the right travelling companions. I’m at a kiosk looking at some souvenirs. I decide on a patch that says, “I love Finland,” and bring it to the counter. Because of my current situation, I’m very tired and quite grumpy. The clerk gives me my price, which I don’t pay attention to because he probably says it in Finnish, so I read it off the screen. I give him the money, and he says something else.)

Me: *low-key annoyed* “Sorry, I don’t speak Finnish”

Clerk: “Was that all today?”

Me: “I told you I don’t…” *suddenly clicks that he spoke English this whole time* “Oh… I’m so sorry!”

Clerk: *smiles* “Long day?”

Me: “Let’s keep it at that.”

What A Diabeetus, Part 7

, , , , , , | Right | August 1, 2018

(I work as a supervisor in a kiosk at a sporting complex. This happens during our rush when I am at the other end of the kiosk. I have had type 1 diabetes since I was two, for eighteen years now.)

Customer: “I would like to talk to the supervisor.”

(I turn and see [Coworker #1] waving me down.)

Me: “Sir, I am the supervisor here; what seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “Do you have any drinks that are sugar-free? I’m diabetic and I can’t have sugary drinks.”

Me: “We have Coke Zero, Diet Coke, and water, sir.”

Customer: “Nothing else?”

Me: “I’m afraid not, sir.”

Customer: “You should have other sugar-free drinks! This is discrimination against me; you’re discriminating against diabetics.”

Me: “Sir, I can assu—”

Customer: *cutting me off* “Do you know what it’s like to have diabetes?”

(He launches into a rant of rhetorical questions about having diabetes. It lasts a couple of minutes, drawing the attention of everyone in line. I haven’t been able to get a word in since he started, but I can’t serve the queue until he is finished. So, I wait for him to take a breath.)

Customer: “And you don’t know what it’s like to have diabetes. I’ve had it for five years; I deserve some respect for that, but no, there are no sugar-free drinks because you don’t know.”

Me: *with a slightly raised voice* “I’ve had it for eighteen years.”

(He freezes, and it’s like the entire queue holds its breath as I smile and continue.)

Me: “Now, is there anything I can help you with today, sir?”

(He shakes his head, looking meek.)

Me: “Very well. The register is right behind you, and I hope you enjoy the game.”

Related:
What A Diabeetus, Part 6
What A Diabeetus, Part 5
What A Diabeetus, Part 4

 

Ringing Some Alarm Bells

, , , , , , , | Right | July 19, 2018

(I work for a retail company specializing in high-quality body jewelry. We operate out of stores and kiosks located in malls. This customer browses our kiosk on a relatively quiet Wednesday night, about 15 minutes before closing. NOTE: she has no visible piercings, and is dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.)

Me: *specific but friendly company greeting* “How are you tonight?”

Customer: “I need a new ring.” *playing on phone*

Me: “Great! Were you looking for a ring for a piercing, or a finger ring?”

Customer: *seemingly disinterested* “I don’t know! Just a ring!”

Me: “Okay, unfortunately we don’t carry finger rings here but—”

Customer: *slams phone on counter* “Why do you keep talking about finger rings?! I obviously need piercing rings!”

Me: “I apologize for the confusion. All right then, what gauge—” *girth of jewelry* “—are you looking for?”

Customer: “Uh… I don’t remember.”

Me: “No worries; that happens all the time. If you have a spare piece of jewelry, you can always bring it in and we can measure that one. Or you can remove your current piece in the bathroom and bring it to us.”

Customer: “I only have the one piece of jewelry! I don’t want to take it out unless I know I have a new one. Can’t you just measure it yourself?”

Me: *reluctant because it’s not recommended* “I can try, but only if it’s a clearly accessible piercing. There’s a lot of kids in here, and anything we show must be kid-friendly.”

(I turn to grab my callipers and hear a zipper unzip loudly. I spin back around to find my customer sitting on the floor, attempting to take off her skinny jeans in the middle of the mall hallway.)

Me: *alarmed* “Ma’am, please don’t take your pants off!”

Customer: “But you need to see the piercing!!”

Me: “Ma’am, where exactly is this piercing?”

Customer: “Well, obviously, one of those!” *points into her jeans*

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I told you it has to be easily accessible and basically child-appropriate. I can’t have you remove or show that piercing in the mall.”

Customer: “Oh, please! They’ll all know what it is soon enough. Just measure this!” *begins unzipping again*

Me: *firmly* “Ma’am, I need you to stop. I cannot help you with this today. You can either take the piece out and bring it inside a sealed ziplock bag, or you can phone your piercer and ask if he knows the gauge.”

Customer: *pleading* “Please? Just this once? I’m so excited for a new piece!”

Me: “I’m genuinely sorry, but those are your only options.”

Customer: *disappointed* “Oh, man, okay. I guess I’ll just come back tomorrow, and then you can put the new piece in for me!”

(She turned and walked away before I could point out that we were in the middle of a hallway next to the food court, and beside a number of children’s stores. There was no way we could do jewelry changes at my location. It was now twelve minutes AFTER closing. She returned again three separate times more to argue the point with managers.)

Coming To A Dis-Cord

, , , , , | Right | July 7, 2018

(I am a manager at a cell phone kiosk. It’s a slow day, and a middle-aged lady comes looking around the cord displays. After a few minutes of looking, she comes to my desk.)

Customer: “Can you help me?”

Me: “Sure! What do you need?”

Customer: “I need something.”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “I need a cable.”

(Long pause.)

Me: “For?”

Customer: “A cell phone.”

(Another long pause.)

Me: “Which cell phone?”

Customer: “The one that you call with?”

Me: “Yes, I know what it does, madam. Which make?”

Customer: “Apple.”

Me: “All right, what kind of cable do you need? Charging? To connect to the TV?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: *trying very hard not to scream* “I meant which one?”

Customer: “Stop badgering me with questions! Do you not understand what I wanted?”

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