Unfiltered Story #205635

, , | Unfiltered | August 15, 2020

One day, when I was about 13 years old, I was at an indoor market with my grandmother looking at birthday cards.

This older woman approached me and asked me if I could tell her the price of a bag that was on a high shelf because she had left her glasses at home.

Assuming she knew I was another customer and being the nice person I am, I told her the price and then I went over to my grandmother who wanted to show me a birthday card she had found.

Now, bear in mind I am clearly a young child who is shopping with her grandmother. Anyone would be able to see that.

A couple of minutes later the woman approached me again and asked me if I was going to get the bag for her or not.

To reiterate, I was a young child. I was not extremely comfortable with strangers and at this point, I was really confused.

The woman just stared at me expecting me to answer her question until my grandmother who had heard what the woman said, approached both of us and told the woman that I was her granddaughter and not an employee.

The woman was polite and she apologised for the misunderstanding then went to find an actual employee but it’s still one of the weirdest encounters I’ve had whilst shopping, especially because it was an uncomfortable situation for me.

Unfiltered Story #199873

, , , | Unfiltered | July 3, 2020

I work at an indoor public market, and I’m usually the only one at my stall. Often, I stand out front and smile at passers-by, but this particular day it was near the end of my shift so I was a bit lost in thought when an older man approached me (I’m a woman in my early twenties).
Man: Smile.
Me: …pardon?
Man: You should smile. You look too serious.
Me: I’m just minding my stall, sir.
Man: Yes, but you should smile!
Me: *stunned silence*
Man: Look, I didn’t mean it in a harsh way! I just think you should smile!
Me: Um…excuse me; I have to go check on something.
I ducked into the back and thankfully he hasn’t come back since.

An Apologetic Customer Is Never Eggs-pected

, , , , | Right | June 28, 2020

I am shopping at the local farmer’s market and my last stop is the stand where I usually buy eggs. The lady who runs the stand is always incredibly patient and nice, and let’s just say I am being an airhead this day.

Me: “Hello. I’d like a dozen eggs, please.”

Farmer: “Oh, I’m sorry. I only have a half-dozen eggs.”

I stupidly think she means she has only half-cartons.

Me: “That’s okay; I’ll just take two of those.”

Farmer: *Hesitates* “Um, no, I mean that I literally only have six eggs.”

She pulls out her last carton, opens it, and shows me that there are only six eggs inside.

Farmer: “The last person only bought six and this was my last carton.”

Me: “Oh, my God, I am so stupid. Sorry about that, and thank you very much!”

I left rather embarrassed, and without any eggs.

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Only One Brain Cell Per Customer

, , , , | Right | June 16, 2020

On certain sale items, there is a limit on how many a customer can buy. For this particular item, it’s limited to one per customer.

Customer: “Excuse me, how much are these?”

Me: “Those are $6.99, but there is a limit of one per customer.”

Customer: “Oh.”

The customer puts two on the counter.

Me: “No, you can only get one.”

The customer just stares blankly. I repeat the above two lines about three times.

Me: *Giving up* “Okay, then, I’ll just ring these two up and your total is—”

Customer: “Oh, wait! $6.99? Can I get two more?”

Me: “No, these items are one per customer. You can only buy one. I’ll give you these two but you can’t buy any more. Because you’re only supposed to buy one. Because there’s a limit.”

The customer just stares blankly again.

Me: “You see this item? You can only buy one but I’m letting you buy two. You cannot buy more.” 

Customer: “Oh… Well, okay, then.”

She paid and walked off with a confused look on her face, still not quite understanding.

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A Mark Of Child Labor

, , , | Right | May 27, 2020

We’re managing flea markets. Our “customers” are people selling stuff they no longer need, and they have to pay a fee based on the length of their market stand, while children’s stands are free. This happens while we still have the DM rather than the Euro.

Collector: “All right, that will be forty marks.”

Customer:What?! I was told it’s ten per meter and that children are free. This should just be thirty marks!”

Collector: “Yes, that is right, and your daughter can sell her toys for free. However, your own market stand is over four metres long, so thirty is not enough.”

Customer: “Fine, here’s your money; this is robbery!” *To the daughter* “Give me ten marks; you have to chip in if you want to sell.”

Collector: “Uh, sorry, but as I said, your daughter’s table is free.”

Customer: “Mind your own d*** business!”

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