Unfiltered Story #194381

, , , | Unfiltered | May 17, 2020

I work at a small Dry Cleaners on the east end of Long Island. Today a fairly regular customer came in to drop off some shirts for cleaning and complained to the owner about a shirt that he had gotten back from us previously that had been cleaned. He’s clearly agitated.

Customer: I didn’t get enough starch on my shirt last time!

Owner: It says you asked for medium starch in our computer.

Customer: it’s supposed to be heavy starch!

Owner: Okay, I will put in the shirts you are dropping off now for heavy starch.

The owner prints out a ticket showing how many shirts he dropped off, the date they will be ready, and the price. She hands it to the customer.

Customer: (Examines the ticket) This time it’s $2.00 a shirt! Last time you charged me $3.75!

The owner explains that normally cotton shirts get sent to a laundry service at a discount. Shirts made of other materials such as rayon are done on-site for $3.75 each.

Owner: I’m sorry for the confusion. Do you remember who helped you last time?

Customer: Tits.

Owner: What?

Customer: Tits! That’s what I call her. She helped me last time.

The owner and I are too stunned to react. We’ve had plenty of rude customers but none of them as rude and as sexist as this older man who refers to large-chested women as “Tits” instead of their actual names.

Unfiltered Story #178352

, , , | Unfiltered | November 24, 2019

(This has happened many times throughout the 6 years I’ve been a sample lady)

Me: Hello! Would you like to try [current sample] ? Just be careful, they just came out, they’re hot.

Costumer: *immediately eats sample* ow thats hot! *turns to another costumer* Be careful, thats hot!

Me: (┛ಠДಠ)┛彡┻━┻

Sneaking Into The Kitchen To Cut Some Cheese

, , , , , , , | Related | October 22, 2019

(I am watching television in the living room. It is past my eight-year-old daughter’s bedtime, but for some reason she feels she is able to sneak past me into the kitchen to get a late snack. I am watching her attempt to sneak by, wondering how long I should let this go for, when she trips, falls, and lets out a huge fart. I can’t help myself and burst out laughing.)

Me: “That was hysterical! I’m laughing so hard that I’m crying!”

Daughter: “Just wait until you smell it; you’ll really be crying!”

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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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