Love Is True When It Can Mock Itself

, , , , | Romantic | January 14, 2019

(My husband and I are walking through the mall, on our way to buy a birthday present for a friend. My husband and I don’t really have a preference for fancy jewelry. For example, my engagement ring had an opal instead of a diamond, and our wedding bands are sterling silver with acorns and oak leaves. We are laughing as we walk hand in hand. As we pass a jewelry store, this happens.)

Sales Lady: *with a huge smile* “Helllooo!”

(My husband nods back as we are walking.)

Sales Lady: *waving us over* “Come on over! We have some great deals for the holidays!”

Husband: “Nah, she’s not worth it!”

Sales Lady: “What did you say?”

Husband: “It’s fine! SHE’S NOT WORTH IT!”

(The look of horror on the sales lady’s face is priceless as we merrily walk by.)

Me: “Next time tell them I’d just pawn it for drugs.”

Hoping To Make A Graceful Exit

, , , | Right | January 7, 2019

(I work at a fast food place in a shopping centre. We also sell biscuits and cookies over the counter. This customer is an old man, so I try to be as clear and patient as possible.)

Me: “Hello, sir, what would you like?”

Customer: “I want two of these biscuits.”

Me: “Of course, sir. Would you like them in a bag to carry?”

Customer: “Yes, please.”

(I package the cookies in a carry bag and place it on the counter in front of him as I do with every customer. I then begin typing in the transaction on the machine.)

Customer: “You should have given that to me more gracefully!”

Me: “Um… What?”

(He glares at me, and I don’t know how to respond. Eventually, I mumble a confused apology.)

Me: “That will be $7.”

(He then opens his wallet and spends a minute finding the right amount of money. Finally, he takes out a $10 note and hands it to me, but he pulls it away a few times as if he’s not sure it’s the right amount to give me. The result is me trying to take the money as he awkwardly moves his hand back and forth. I don’t say anything and just give him the change.)

Customer: “Sorry about that.”

America And Canada Return To War

, , , , , , | Working | January 7, 2019

(I recently purchased a number of items online from a women’s garment store. Normally I physically go to the store but in this case, I felt like buying online. When I receive my items, one has a defect with a strap. On the back of the packing slip, there are instructions for return or exchange, including information about returning the item in the store. My husband and I happen to be going to a mall with this store in it within the next day or two, so I decide to exchange the item in store rather than mail it back. This is my experience at the store. I walk up to the cash registers.)

Me: “Hi there. I ordered this bra online recently, tried it on, liked it, removed the tags, but on the one and only time I wore it, I noticed there is a defect with the strap.” *pulls the bra out of the bag I’ve brought it in to show her* “The strap wasn’t threaded through both bits of the slide, so it won’t stay up. I don’t need a refund — I actually really like it — I was just hoping to exchange it for one exactly the same but without a defect.”

(The cashier is very nice and finds me a sales associate to help find the specific style of bra in store.)

Sales Associate: “Hmm, so, it appears that we don’t carry that specific style or size in the store. I’m really sorry.”

Me: “Okay, that’s not a big problem. I’m fine with exchanging for something similar for the same value.”

(I show the associate all the paperwork I’ve brought to confirm the price.)

Sale Associate: “Okay, that is probably fine; let me just check with the manager. Since you bought it online, I just need to double check.”

Me: “No problem. I’ll just browse until you are done.”

(Everyone has been very pleasant and helpful. I’ve made it clear now to two people I am not looking for cash; I just want to exchange the item directly. It’s also worth noting that when I purchased the items on the website, they were purchased via a Canadian source, so I paid in Canadian dollars, and the items were shipped from Eastern Canada. The manager and sales associate approach me.)

Manager: *already sighing* “Yeah, hi. So. You bought that online.”

Me: “Yes, that’s right.”

Manager: “So… we don’t do returns for online purchases. I could maybe give you a credit, but that’s it.”

Me: “Sorry, I wasn’t looking to return it; I’d just like to exchange it for something of equal value if I can’t get the exact same one.”

Manager: “No, I don’t think you understand. You bought it online. We don’t return things from an online purchase.”

Me: *still calm but frustrated* “That’s confusing, because—“ *showing her* “—on the packing slip, on the back here, it says you can return or exchange in store.”

Manager: *not even looking at the paper, in a condescending voice* “You purchased that from an American website, so you can’t return it to a Canadian store.”

Me: “Really? I am certain that I purchased it from a Canadian—“

Manager: *even more condescending* “No, I understand. You paid Canadian dollars, but you purchased it from an American website. We don’t even have a ‘.ca’ website.”

Me: *pause* “Ah, okay. Um… So. What do you suggest?”

Manager: “Call the number for the website. They’ll have to tell you what to do.”

Me: “Right. So, I guess I have to mail it.”

Manager: “Yep. Thanks.” *walks away*

Sales Associate: “I am… really sorry.”

Me: “It’s all right. I guess I didn’t read the fine print. Thanks for your help.”

(Later I relayed the interaction to my husband, who insisted I submit a complaint about the manager’s behavior. We also did a quick Google search for the company, and lo and behold, the first result was a sponsored advertisement — for a “.ca” website. I checked the return label; yep, Canadian. I guess that manager needed a bit of education on her policies.)

Not Very Helpful But It Is Humane

, , , , , | Right | December 20, 2018

(Pet stores in Canada have not sold dogs or cats for about six years. Some still sell rabbits, and most have guinea pigs, mice, gerbils, and rats. I work in a shoe store in the mall, and across from us there used to be a pet store, about ten years ago. A customer brings in his eight- or nine-year-old daughter one day, asking about the store.)

Customer: “Where is the pet store that used to be over there?”

Me: “Sorry, sir, there hasn’t been a pet store there for about ten years.”

Customer: “Oh, well, where can I find a pet store?”

Me: “There are a few in town. What are you looking for? Food?”

Customer: “No, I want animals. I told my daughter we could go see the puppies.”

Me: “Oh, well, I’m sorry, but pet stores don’t sell dogs or cats anymore. They do have gerbils or rabbits at the store down the road.”

Customer: “I don’t want rabbits; I want dogs! My daughter wants to see dogs!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but the only place in town to see puppies is at the humane society across town.”

Customer: “Well, that’s not helpful! Pet stores should sell puppies again! Why don’t they sell puppies?”

Me: “Because of over-breeding and puppy mills. They weren’t humane.”

Customer: “That’s ridiculous!”

(He turned around and stormed out, dragging his daughter after him.)

Getting Your Money Back Requires Good Form

, , , , , | Right | December 19, 2018

(It’s forty years ago and I am working in the men’s department during my senior year in college. A curmudgeonly man drops a load of shirts on the counter and demands a refund. The policy is to collect a great deal of information from the customer, issue a receipt, and have the customer go to the service center to get the actual cash. The shirts are obviously quite old and worn, and the man doesn’t have a receipt. The best I can do is give him $0.99 per shirt. After a bit of a tirade, he decides that is better than nothing.)

Me: *takes out receipt pad* “May I have your name?”

Customer: “I didn’t need to give you my name when I bought these.”

Me: “Yes, sir, but I have to fill out this form to get you your refund.”

Customer: “It’s [Customer].”

Me: “…and your address?”

Customer: “Why do you need to know my address? It doesn’t matter where I live!”

Me: “Yes, sir, but I have to fill out this form to get you your refund.”

Customer: “It’s [Street and number].”

Me: “…and the city?”

Customer: *rolls his eyes as if trying to randomly pick a nearby town* “Fenton.”

Me: “…and the ZIP code?’

Customer: “I don’t know what the ZIP code is! I never mail things to myself!”

Me: “…and your phone number?”

Customer: “Not everyone has a phone.”

(I fill out the form to the best of my ability, and hand it to the customer. He glowers at me for a moment and practically yells:)

Customer: “Well? WHERE’S MY MONEY?”

Me: “If you take this up to the customer service department, they will issue your refund.”

(He storms over to the escalator and begins elbowing people out of the way to get to the top as quickly as he can. I wish I could have followed him, because I knew the customer service department would require that he show a driver’s license or some other official identification to prove who he is and that he lives at his address before they will issue his refund. A few minutes later, as I am about to collect up this guy’s garbage and toss it in our compactor bin, I hear him elbowing his way down the other escalator, with the form I had filled out waving madly in the air. He comes charging over to my counter like some mad bull in a rodeo, snatches up the tattered old shirts that he had obviously been wearing for years, and turns toward the nearest exit. I step directly in front of him.)

Me: “You can have the shirts or the receipt, but you can’t have both.”

(I think that had his hands been free, he may have tried to take a swing at me. As it was, he made a good attempt to crumple up the receipt and throw it at me without dropping his shirts, and stomped out of the store.)

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