Tiptoe Through The Blueberries, With Me

, , , , | Right | September 11, 2019

(I’m working in the produce department at our local supermarket when a customer spills several containers of blueberries in the aisle. I’m guarding the aisle while my coworker goes to grab a broom and dustpan. The produce section basically has two aisles with produce displays in between, so there is an easy way to go around the blueberry mess. [Customer #1] approaches me, pushing a shopping cart.)

Me: “We have a bit of a mess right here. If you could just go around–“

Customer #1: “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be careful!” 

(The customer then proceeds to shove past me and picks up the back of the cart so only the first two wheels are on the ground, and then tip-toes THROUGH the mess of blueberries on the floor, squishing and smearing the mess further as she goes.)

Me: “Or you could do that…”

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Cancer And Comas And Cash, Oh My  

, , , , , | Right | August 27, 2019

(My store has a really lenient return policy. We’ll even return things past the return period as long as the customers have their receipt, albeit for the item’s current, often much reduced, price.)

Me: “Hi. How are you doing today?”

Customer: “I need to return this s***.”

Me: “Oh… kay… Do you have your receipt?”

Customer: “Yeah, yeah, right here.”

(She has two bags of kids’ summer clothing. It is April and the receipt is from a year ago, WELL past the full return period of three months.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but these are from last summer.”

Customer: “So what? I have my receipt! They’ve never been worn; they have their tags on and everything!

Me: “Yes, but I can’t give you the full refund. It says right at the bottom that returns must be made within ninety days for a full refund. I can return them for you, but only for their current prices.”

Customer: “And how much is that gonna be?”

Me: “Probably not much, to be honest. These items are from last year.”

Customer: “So, how f****** much?!”

Me: “All right, well…”

(I scan a few of the items and they come up about a fifth of their original prices.)

Customer: “WHAT? YOU’RE RIPPING ME THE F*** OFF!”

Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way, but this is our policy.”

Customer: “You’re all a bunch of liars and scammers! I didn’t have time to come here before now!”

Me: “That—”

Customer: “My mother has cancer!”

Me: “I’m… sorry about that.”

Customer: “Yeah! I haven’t had any f****** time to do anything! I’m with her twenty-four-f******-seven. I take care of her!”

Me: “I am really sorry, but there isn’t anything I can do. You can talk to a manager, but I don’t even think they can override this.”

Customer: “I can’t believe this. You won’t give me my money back because my mother is in the hospital dying of cancer.”

Me: “…”

Customer: “This is bulls***. You’re bulls***. This place is bulls***. You’re f****** scamming customers and screwing me out of my refund. It isn’t my fault my f****** mother is dying! She has cancer!”

Me: “…”

Customer: “I can’t believe you. You must hate people with cancer, like MY MOTHER IN THE HOSPITAL WHERE I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF HER DAY AND NIGHT.”

(She crams stuff back into her bags until they rip. I give her new bags but have no idea what to say.)

Customer: “My mother is dying and f****** has cancer and she’s in a coma, and you a**holes won’t refund me even though I have my receipt and had no idea there was a time limit.”

(She walked out, still ranting. To this day, I have a weird suspicion that she was lying about her mother with cancer, just from the way she was talking about it, probably as some kind of sympathy ploy, which frankly makes her behaviour even WORSE.)

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Unfiltered Story #159085

, , , | Unfiltered | July 23, 2019

After a night out in Long Island, my family and a few friends decided to go and have a late night bite to eat. Applebees (maybe?) was the cheapest and closest place to eat, so in we went. Because it was close to Halloween, a few of the waiters were in costume. I want to say that our waiter was a guy dressed up in a fat suit with a pink ballerina costume over it.

Our booth was having a good time. The people in the booth next to ours, not so much. The whole time we were there, the other booth kept sending back food because it was too cold, too hot, supposedly not the right order, or just not to someone’s liking.

Then the really bad attitude comes when the check comes. The booth almost chomps ballerina’s head off. Most of the time they keep shouting “I don’t understand this bill!” If they didn’t like a particular dish, they wanted that cut out. If they got “the wrong order”, that had to be cut too. Also, the prices were “not clear enough” when they really were. They refused to pay the full amount of their bill. Ballerina handles them like a pro, and goes to his manager. The bill is cut by however much. Still, the other booth is unhappy with the price. Eventually, they decide to pay up but they leave out a tip.

When our booth was finished, one of our friends jokingly said “I don’t understand the bill!” We all had a good laugh and left ballerina a nice tip.

Devil’s Jew

, , , , , | Right | July 15, 2019

(I am ringing customers. A woman gets in the small line that is forming, followed by a gentleman who is spouting about seeing Jesus and being pure of heart and spirituality. He was in earlier in the day so I know who he is.)

Man: *mumbles about seeing Jesus*

Woman: “I don’t want to hear it.”

(They continue like this until the woman comes up to me to be rung up. The gentleman continues while the woman silently pleads for help. I decide to step in.)

Me: “Sir, I am sorry, but we are in the middle of a transaction here.”

Man: *mumbles about being rude*

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but we are still in the middle of a transaction.”

Man: “I was talking to her.”

(The woman mouths, “Thank you,” to me, I nod, and we finish the transaction. The gentleman is next in line.)

Me: “I’m sorry about before, sir, it’s just that we were in the middle of a transaction.”

Man: “Oh, you must be a devil worshiper, then.”

(I am shocked, since I did NOT expect to be accused of being a devil worshiper. I barely know what to say. I see he has a skull cap on and decide to go the Jewish route, since I am Jewish, as well.)

Me: “Sir, I’m not a devil worshiper; I’m Jewish.”

Man: “You are?”

Me: “Yes, I am.”

Man: “Oh, well, that doesn’t make a difference; you could still be a devil worshiper.”

(After going back and forth on this subject for another minute, I gave up and just “yes”ed him to death while finishing the transaction.)

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Works Both Ways

, , , , , , | Right | July 11, 2019

(It’s the 1980s. I am on telephone support for a software company. I have a common first name, and there are four other employees with the same first name. Two of us share an office. Because there are five of us, we have to tell customers our last name, in case they need to call back, or file a complaint or compliment. It is against policy to give our real names, so we each make up a last name for our phone identity. I pick the name “Booth.” I figure it is a good mnemonic; customers will remember that if they needed help, just “phone Booth.” I am speaking to one customer. After spending nearly an hour getting her software up and running, we have this exchange:)

Customer: “Can I have your name, in case I have to call back?”

Me: “It’s [My Name] Booth.”

Customer: “How do you spell that? L-O-O-S-E?”

Me: “No, not ‘Loose.’ It’s ‘Booth,’ like in ‘phone booth.’”

Customer: “Oh, B-O-O-S-E?”

Me: “No, it’s like ‘phone booth.’ B-O-O-T-H.”

Customer: “Oh, B-O-T-H.”

Me: *facepalm* “Right.”

(I decided that was close enough, and ended the call. Then, I realized that if she ever called back, she’d ask to speak to [My Name]. The receptionist would ask, “Which [My Name]?” and she’d say, “Both.” At least she’d be connected to the right office!)

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