Oh, Brother, Where Art Thou Discount?

, , | Right | June 24, 2018

(I work at a popular fast-casual restaurant as a cashier. There are four managers there who are brothers. While they aren’t identical, they all share olive skin, dark hair, and stocky body types. Usually only one or two of them are in on any given day. This day is no exception. There is one manager here, filling out paperwork in the back office as I’m ringing up a customer. After I take his order, the following occurs:)

Me: “All right, sir, your total is [total].”

Customer: “Can I get a discount with that? I’m the manager’s brother.”

(I’m immediately taken aback, as this customer is pale, thin, and redheaded, and therefore looks in no way related to my managers.)

Me: “Um, are you sure, sir?”

Customer: *frowning* “Of course I’m sure. I know who my own brother is.”

(I don’t want to directly accuse the customer of lying, even though I know he is. Luckily, out of the corner of my eye I see my manager walking behind the counter, probably to see how his employees are doing. He has a good sense of humor, so I decide to have a little fun.)

Me: *pointing to [Customer]* “Hey, [Manager], I didn’t know you had four brothers!”

Manager: *momentarily confused, but quickly understanding* “Oh, yeah. I didn’t tell you? He’s adopted.”

([Customer]’s eyes widen as he sees how little he resembles [Manager].)

Customer: *turning red with embarrassment* “What was the total again?”

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Refunder Blunder, Part 36

, , , , | Right | June 19, 2018

(A customer comes into the store with some returns from an online purchase. No receipt, no order number, nothing. She says her mother ordered it online for Christmas and didn’t give her a receipt. My manager says she can do an exchange. We inspect the packaging, and it is packaging from the manufacturer, not our store.)

Me: “Ma’am, we cannot accept these returns. These weren’t purchased from our website; they were purchased from [Manufacturer].”

Customer: “No, they weren’t. My mother said that she ordered them from you guys.”

Me: “Well, ma’am, that just simply isn’t true. We can’t accept these because they were never in our system.”

Customer: “Are you saying that my mother is a liar?”

Me: “No, of course not. I was just stating that she was incorrect about where she purchased these.”

Customer: “My mother is a registered nurse! I think she has enough intelligence to know where she bought something from! I feel insulted!”

Me: “Well, you have the right to feel insulted, but that doesn’t change the fact that these were not purchased from us.”

Customer: “I demand to speak to your manager!”

(Our manager comes over and repeats everything I said. The customer then angrily grabs everything and storms out of the store.)

Me: “Have a nice day, ma’am! I hope you get a better nurse.”

Refunder Blunder, Part 35
Refunder Blunder, Part 34
Refunder Blunder, Part 33

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Cheesing Off The Boss

, , , , | Right | June 19, 2018

(I’ve just sent out an order of pasta that’s typically served with sauce on top and just a sprinkle of fresh parmesan. My boss, who is the waitress this day, returns with it just a moment later, huffily stuffs it in a baking dish, and covers it with mozzarella cheese.)

Me: “What’s wrong?”

Boss: “She says she always gets it baked with cheese on top.”

(She begins to put it in the oven.)

Me: “Did she ask for it like that? I could have made it like that.”

Boss: “No, she says this is just the way it comes and she’s always gotten it like that.”

Me: “I’ve never served it like that. I don’t think I’ve ever even had someone ask for it like that.”

(I work no less than four or five days a week, and two of them are double shifts, so I’m almost always there.)

Boss: “Well, that’s what she said!”

(She pulls it out of the oven and re-plates it.)

Me: “Hmm… Well, be sure to ask her what days she normally comes in so we can ‘yell’ at whoever has been making it wrong this whole time.”

Boss: *chuckles* “Okay!”

(She returns a few moments later.)

Boss: “Now she’s changed her story to, ‘A good friend recommended the dish to her and told her that was the way it came and she was confused.’”

Me: “Uh-huh, I’m sure.”

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It’s Not Gossip When It’s True

, , , , , , , , | Working | June 18, 2018

I work in the security industry, as a concierge in a condominium.

A few years back, a coworker was told to train a new guy who was rather dimwitted, slow to learn, and annoying. I know because I had him for training for one shift.

[Coworker] told me later that he got tired of training the new guy and went to the condo party room to watch television, leaving the very inept trainee to manage the lobby desk by himself. I warned [Coworker] that the party room looked out onto the back patio where the BBQ grill was, and that the curtains were very see-through. If a resident went out on the back patio and peered through the windows, they’d see it was a security officer sitting there watching television, which we were obviously not paid to do, and would complain, getting us all in trouble. He laughed and waved it off.

He told me the next day that he was forced to continue training the same inept guy, so he ran off to watch television again. I warned him, again, not to do that.

The next time he bragged to me about watching television on duty, I just contacted my Client Service Manager — the security company manager responsible for our team — and told him what [Coworker] was doing. I’d reported other security officers for risking the team with their own personal antics. I don’t like being a snitch; I like having a stable work place where fellow officers aren’t screwing it up for us by being selfish d**ks.

Apparently, [Coworker] was called into the office and when told to explain himself, said that yes, he had been watching television, and then went on to say that I was spreading crazy gossip about him to anyone who would listen, and that I was mean, so wasn’t that worse than his television-watching offense? For the record, I had never gossiped about him, nor was I ever mean to him. I just asked him to stop risking our jobs with his unprofessional behavior, and he blew me off.

I got called into HQ the next day. That manager had a form for me to sign. “[My Name]? Why does it seem you like to backstab other officers? [Coworker] told me about you gossiping about him, and I see you’ve reported other officers who needed disciplining. That’s why I’m having you sign this form where you acknowledge that you’re a gossip, and you swear to never be caught for gossiping ever again, or more serious consequences will happen. This will go into your permanent file. Do you understand?”

I argued that I had never gossiped about [Coworker], and those other security officers had been problems, and my manager said, “Oh, really? Because [Coworker] said you have. Why would he come in here and lie to my face? He sounded very sincere every time I’ve had to speak with him, and you have been involved with the disciplining of several officers. No… I think you are the one lying because you enjoy getting other guards in trouble. Sign this or face disciplinary action.”

I was so floored and cowed that I stupidly signed the d***ed thing just so I could get the hell out of there.

Thankfully, not long after, this manager was fired for being caught on camera cheating on his wife with residents in buildings when he was there for manager meetings. No one cared he was cheating. They cared that he was there for a meeting with the building’s property manager but instead was seen feeling up a resident of the building. Other officers said he would sometimes touch female officers, too. My company finally got fed up and fired him, but not before he did a ton of damage to many innocent officers.Thankfully, I got out of that company, and I am now working for a much better local security company. I will never forget what that a**hole manager did.

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Friends Without Benefits

, , , , , | Working | June 17, 2018

(I have gone into the café my family owns for a quick bite to eat while I’m on break. I have never met the cashier before, so I assume she’s new.)

Cashier: “That’s [amount], please.”

Me: “I also have the family and friends discount. My name is on the records.”

(She rolls her eyes and holds out her hand.)

Cashier: “Nice try. [Amount], please.”

Me: “No. You will get the record book, verify my name — [My Name] — and give me the discount.”

(She looks me up and down, still with her hand out.)

Cashier: “So, what are you supposed to be? Cousin? Daughter? What’s the owner called?”

Me: “That’s none of your business. Please do as I ask and get the record book. Oh, and [Husband].”

(She snorts.)

Cashier: “Impressive. I guess scammers really come prepared these days. You can either pay, or I’ll call security and have you removed.”

Me: “Security? Really? This is a small, family-owned café. We don’t have security.”

Cashier: “No, but I can get the chef. He’s beefy!”

Me: “The only chef here is [Nephew], and he’s so thin a gentle breeze could knock him over. But please, by all means, get him.”

Cashier: “Oh, um… What was your name again?”

(I give her my name again and she leaves for the kitchen. My nephew comes out and makes small talk while applying my discount and getting my change. I see the cashier poking her head above the window in the kitchen door occasionally, and I smile and wave. Later that evening when I get home, my husband talks about her.)

Husband: “She took off with the record book during her first shift. She’s adamant that she didn’t take it, but [Brother-in-Law] saw her stuff it in her bag while he was in.”

Me: “Why the hell haven’t you fired her?”

Husband: “Because I want the book back. She’ll bring it back eventually, and I can guarantee we’ll have more friends in it than before.”

(A few weeks later, the book appeared again, with 62 new names added to it. The cashier tried to act like they had always been there, but the change in handwriting and six of the names having the same surname as her was something she couldn’t argue with. We contacted her parents, who confirmed she had added their names, but under the pretense that it was family and friends of employees who also got the discount. She was promptly fired; however, her parents requested she volunteer to work for us for a month as punishment. My husband agreed and has her working with stock. Our son works in there, so hopefully she won’t think to try anything.)

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