Giving You Her Two Cents About Her Quarter

, , , , , | Right | October 27, 2018

(A woman and her little girl want to buy two sodas and chips. This woman is making her child pay for the transaction with quarters. It’s not too big a deal. The total is $4.24, and the little girl gives me $4.00 in quarters. The mom picks up the chips and soda and begins to walk out the door. I get her attention.)

Me: “Ma’am, I still need one more quarter.”

Customer: “I know; I’m getting it.”

Me: “Well, product is not allowed to leave the store until fully paid for.”

(The lady stands outside the door for a minute and then comes in again. She approaches the counter and gives me a dirty look.)

Customer: “Did you put the money in the till yet?”

Me: “No, the transaction is not complete yet.”

Customer: *takes her money* “Give me my money back, then. I will not buy from you. You were rude to me!”

Me: “Okay.”

(I put the merchandise behind the counter and told my manager about it, and she started laughing. Stating company rules does not make me rude; it protects my store. It isn’t hard to cooperate and follow simple rules.)

Practicing Becoming An Old Bag

, , , , , | Right | October 18, 2018

(I work for a store in a well-known chain of drug stores. I am working the front register when a customer comes up and puts down a small bag of nuts and a drink. I have a habit of asking if they would like a bag if their purchase is small or it looks like it will be eaten right away. I ask because we don’t have small bags, just the regular-sized grocery bags. Most customers don’t want to deal with a bag in this situation.)

Me: “Would you like a bag for this?”

Customer: “Well, it’s more than one item, so yeah. Wouldn’t you say?”

Me: *smiles, thinking she’s joking* “You don’t have to have one; it’s really up to you.”

Customer: *straight-faced* “No, it’s not. It’s your job.”

(I bag her items, a little stunned. I’d never had anyone demand a bag.)

Me: “Here you go. Have a nice day!”

Customer: *takes her bag and leaves without saying a word*

(I found out later that the same customer called to complain about me, and claimed I refused to give her a bag. My manager is cool and just laughed it off. I wonder what that customer would do in places like California where, due to a ban on plastic bags, they don’t ever give you a bag!)

Which One Is Your Number Two?

, , , , | Right | September 26, 2018

I work in a midway arcade. Most of the time, I get assigned to run a game booth, and a few times I have had to run the treasury where you redeem tickets.

This night I am sent to Viking, a water gun racing game. I have to kick the foot pedal in front of the gun that’s being used, then press a button to turn on the water. The water is sprayed into a target, and little viking ships come down.

It’s a pretty easy game, and usually not too much hassle. Among our prizes are emoji pillows, including poop ones and yellow faces with various expressions. I do get the best laugh from a really corny joke. A woman plays twice with her son. The boy gets a yellow face, and she takes a poop emoji.

After second game, she says to me, “I can’t wait to sleep on my piece of s*** tonight! Not my husband, my pillow.”

Stay Around For The Tail-End Of This Story

, , , , , , | Right | September 26, 2018

(I work as a groomer in a large pet retail store that also offers grooming services. One day, a woman comes in with a Pomeranian. She shows me a picture of the same dog with a slightly different cut.)

Customer: “I want my dog to look like this but with two differences: don’t touch the feet — I like the ‘Grinch’ feet — and don’t touch the mane.”

(The cut is very simple so I agree. We fill out the paperwork with the exact details, and she signs it and leaves. When the dog is done, I call her. She returns, and has obviously been to the gym because her hands are taped up like a boxer. I go to get the dog, and as I am walking out, I notice that there is a small patch of stray hairs that I missed when trimming his tail. This happens from time to time and is a simple fix.)

Me: *to my coworker* “Hey, can you get these stray hairs I missed on his tail while I hold him?”

Customer: *in an inhumanly high-pitched voice* “WHAT THE F***?! WHAAAAAT THE F***!? HOW COULD YOU CUT HIS TAIL?”

Me: “Ma’am, the instructions sa—”

(She starts clenching her taped-up hands and shaking them.)

Customer: *not so high-pitched or crazed* “How could you… Wh… Wh… Why would you cut his tail?”

Me: “I’m sorry; it is standard practice unless we are specifically asked not to.”

Coworker: “Pomeranians usually have their tails trimmed during grooming.”

Customer: “But he’s not an ordinary dog, and we have pictures tomorrow. Now we can’t…” *again with the banshee scream* “WHAT THE F***?! I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS. I… CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS!”

(This goes on for several minutes and by this time, it has drawn a crowd of people from all over the store to stare through the glass doors and see what’s going on. My coworker and I finally calm her down and she leaves. We are both dumbstruck and start discussing it. I have my back to the door.)

Coworker: “She’s coming back.”

Me: “Don’t even try—”

Coworker: “No, I’m serious. She’s coming back.”

(I prepare myself and turn around as the customer is walking in. I don’t even get a word out.)

Customer: *extremely happy and friendly* “Other than the tail, you did a great job!”

(She puts a $20 tip on the counter and walks out.)

Me: “Whatever she took when she went out to her car, I want some.”

They Undertook The Precept To Refrain From Incorrect Speech

, , , , , | Hopeless | July 28, 2018

(I work in an alternative book store at the end of a long strip mall. There’s actually another book store five doors down, but they are a Christian bookstore so we don’t have much to compete over. Occasionally we get customers from the other store walking in because they were not paying attention and get confused — or offended — by our products. The store is heavily decorated with draped fabric making it kind of dark inside. One day I see a car pull up front and drop off a cute little old lady, complete with short, curly, white hair and a pink pantsuit. The car immediately drives off as soon as she closes the door, and she wanders into our store while looking through her purse.)

Lady: *still looking in her purse* “Hello, dearie, can you help me return this book? It doesn’t have the right plants. My, it is dark in here! You should tell your manager to fix those lights; it’s not good for your eyes to be in the dark all the time!”

(She pulls out a book about “gardening with the Lord” and sets the book, with a receipt, on the counter. I can also see a gold cross on her necklace.)

Me: “I am sorry, ma’am, but I believe you are actually looking for [Christian Store] a few doors down.”

Lady: “Oh? Am I in the wrong store again?”

(She takes a moment to pull a pair of glasses out of her purse and puts them on before looking around.)

Lady: “Oh! You’re right; this isn’t [Christian Store]! No wonder it’s so dark in here; what an interesting place! What is this store?”

Me: “This is [Alternative Bookstore], ma’am. We specialize in books, supplies, and some knick-knacks, for a variety of religions and spiritualists.”

Lady: “Do you sell books on witchcraft?!”

(As she says this, she looks shocked and holds her hand up to her little gold cross. I brace for the usual shouting as I reply:)

Me: “Yes, ma’am. We do sell books about Wicca, along with books on a wide variety of religions, such as Buddhism and Asatru.”

(For a moment she just stares at me like I slapped her, and very slowly turns around again to look at the store. She is quiet for so long that I begin to worry about her health. Then she turns back to me, all smiles, as if nothing is wrong.)

Lady: “I’ve always wondered what people meant by those words. What is ‘Wicca’? Or that ‘bood-ish’ thing you said? Oh, can you show me any books on gardening?!”

(She was perfectly cheerful, and wandered all over the store asking a thousand questions about everything she could. Since we were slow, I was happy to talk with her and even helped her find a book on planting healing herbs. She kept looking at everything with an expression of amazement I usually only see on children. I checked her out once she decided she had had enough looking around, and we chatted for a few minutes. Apparently the car that had dropped her off belonged to her granddaughter, who dropped her off at the mall once a week, as she couldn’t drive herself, so that she could spend time in the Christian bookstore down the way. And, as her family was all very religious, she had no idea there were so many different beliefs out in the world. She left, happy, and has become my favorite regular, visiting the store every other week, and is still perfectly happy with her beliefs, but loves to talk with me about absolutely everything.)

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