Me: “Will that be it for you today?”

Customer: “Yes, that’s it.”

Me: “All right. Your total will be $9.28.”

(The customer pays and leaves, and I go through about five minutes and eight more customers. The other customer comes back up, looking angry.)

Customer: “You didn’t give me a discount.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “I had a receipt code and you didn’t give me the discount for it!”

(At our restaurant, we have a promotion where, if you bring in a code on a receipt from filling out a survey, you will receive a free entree item; however, the code has to be given at the time of purchase.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. You didn’t say anything about having a coupon, so I had no idea you had one.”

Customer: “I forgot to give it to you. But I still need the discount.”

(I call my manager over to help with the situation. I should add that there IS a way to fix this situation in the register but would involve me possibly being fired because it sends a report to corporate claiming the situation was “my fault,” and they no longer accept excuses.)

Manager: “Sir, did you mention you had the receipt to her when she rang you up?”

Customer: “No. It was in my back pocket. I forgot I had it.”

Manager: “And she told you the total, yes?”

Customer: “Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I should have to pay for the extra entree!”

Manager: “Sir, I can’t do anything about this that wouldn’t cause problems for her with corporate, and I can’t in good conscience punish her when it wasn’t her fault. I’m sorry. You can bring the coupon back and use it next time.”

(The customer stormed off and later filed a report to my manager claiming we “refused his coupon and forced him to pay additional costs.” Obviously, my manager knew what had really happened and just laughed.)

Related:
The Couponator 15: The Transaction Void
The Couponator 14: Multiple Attack
The Couponator 13: Coupons Of Purchases Past

(This takes place in a well-known Australian supermarket. Our store takes online orders for people at home. My job is to pick items off the shelf and place them in crates on a trolley. Each crate has a name and a corresponding address. Each item is bagged and tied by hand in plastic bags.)

Customer: “Excuse me.”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “Are these items on special?”

Me: “No, these items are for online customers. They are not on special.”

Customer: “Okay, then.”

(The customer then wanders off to a different part of the store. My next item requires me to leave my trolley to find an item that’s out of stock. This takes no longer than five minutes. As I return, I hear the following conversation with my coworker.)

Coworker: “Excuse me, what are you doing?”

Customer: “These were on special! I’m taking them.”

(I walk around the corner only to find that the customer from before has taken EVERY SINGLE ITEM out of its bag and into her own trolley. This is well over 100 hand-picked and bagged items.)

Customer: “He told me they were on special!”

Me: “I did not. I told you they were for online customers.”

Customer: “Liar! You’re just trying to steal them and keep them for yourself! I bet you don’t even work here!”

Me: “I do work here because my shirt has the [Store] logo on it. Also, the trolley clearly advertises who I am shopping for. Online customers! Not specials!”

(Thankfully, the customer turned around and left in a huff. I spent the next hour rescanning and bagging the items.)

(My managers received an email a few days ago warning them to be on the lookout for fake coupons. This happens in the drive-thru.)

Me: “Welcome to [Restaurant]; what can I get for you?”

Customer: “I have a coupon here that’s a little bit expired. Do you take expired coupons?”

Me: “Usually we can. What is it for?”

Customer: “It says a free [cheeseburger] with purchase of fries and drink.”

(This is a very common coupon, sent out with every set of coupons.)

Manager: *to me* “How old is it?”

Me: *to customer* “How long has it been expired?”

Customer: *sheepishly* “A while…”

Me: “What’s the date on it?”

Customer: “Um… 2011…”

Manager: *shakes her head*

Me: “No, you cannot use that coupon.”

(She ended up ordering something completely different.)

(In the nineties, I am a 25-year-old punk kid with bleached blond hair working graveyard at a [Convenience Store] in a sketchy neighborhood. I’ve worked there long enough that the locals don’t harass me — much — and I never have any real problems. One regular customer is a nurse — a beautiful older black woman who takes the last bus home and comes in and buys smokes, and we joke around about our crappy hours. One night, she comes in and asks to use the bathroom, which is against policy, but I don’t care so I let her. A few minutes later, this kid comes in wearing a hoodie and sunglasses, doing the finger gun thing in his pocket.)

Kid: “Gimme all the money!”

Me: “Your mother…”

Kid: “WHAT’D YOU SAY ABOUT MY MOTHER?”

Me: *pointing* “She’s right behind you.”

(The kid turned around as my favorite customer walked out of the bathroom with that “I’m gonna beat your a**!” look that moms use on you when you know you’ve really messed up. The kid’s face was now as white as mine as his mom dragged him out of the store by his hoodie. She said she’d take care of this if I didn’t mind. I just nodded and smiled. A few days later, I was working the morning shift on a Saturday. The kid came in, wouldn’t look me in the eye, and apologized… and invited me to their BBQ. I went and had a great time. Nobody ever messed with me or that store again.)

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(I’m working at a popular department store in the women’s clothing section. It’s one of our busy winter sales, and I’ve been walking the floor assisting customers. I notice my coworker at the register has been dealing with the same woman for a while, and I go over to see if I can help.)

Customer: “It’s supposed to be a $28.99 Morning Special! There was a sign!”

Coworker: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but that’s not what it’s scanning at, and I need to verify it before I can adjust the price.” *noticing me approaching* “[My Name], can you go find this item on the floor for me?”

(The customer has a $149 winter coat, which is ringing up on sale at $89.99. There’s absolutely no way we’re selling this coat for thirty dollars.)

Me: “I can go check the sign for you, ma’am. Where did you get it from?”

(The customer leads me back to a clothing rack, which does indeed say, “$28.99 Morning Special,” on one end of it. It also says, “[Brand] Knit Sweaters,” right below that, in a font of the same size. The rack itself is filled with that brand’s sweaters, except on the far side where there are two more of the same winter coats hanging on the end.)

Customer: “See?! Right here!”

Me: “Ma’am, it looks like another customer was looking at these coats and just left them here.”

Customer: “But they’re on this rack! It says, ‘28.99 Morning Special’!”

Me: “Yes, but it also says it’s for [Brand] knit sweaters. I apologize for the confusion; I’ll move the coats back where they came from.”

(The customer scowls and storms off, and I see her back at the register arguing that she should get an exception for the $28.99 price. I beckon for a supervisor, and when the woman sees her coming she quiets down and scuttles away. I tell the supervisor what happened, and she nods after the retreating customer.)

Supervisor: “A few years ago, she used to shoplift from us. I guess she finally got a job.”