Can’t Vouch For This Transaction

, , , , , , | Right | October 22, 2019

(We have recently run a voucher promotion giving customers 50% off their next purchase. I am on my lunch break out back when one of the other two employees asks me to come help with a customer.)

Customer: “I’d like to purchase these shoes, but I don’t have my voucher on me.”

Me: “Well, unfortunately, ma’am, we do require the voucher to process the discount. Are you able to come back with your voucher? We can hold the shoes for you.”

(The customer starts becoming more upset and I realise this is why I was asked to help.)

Customer: “Why would I possibly need to bring the voucher with me? This is ridiculous! Is this some kind of trick to get customers to come back to your store and spend money, and then you don’t give them the discount?”

Me: “Not at all, ma’am. I’m sorry for the confusion, but I really do need the voucher. The code needs to go into our computer system, and the voucher sent to our head office. And unfortunately, the whole point of the voucher is that you need to bring it back. We can’t just give out 50% discounts.”

Customer: “I can’t believe this! I want to speak to a manager!”

Me: “Unfortunately, our manager isn’t in today, but I’m the most senior staff member here so I’m happy to try and help you. Or I can get my manager to call you tomorrow when she’s in?”

Customer: “No! Give me her mobile number, then; I want to speak to her!”

Me: *somewhat shocked* “Ma’am, I can’t give out my manager’s personal mobile number, or bother her during her day off. You’re welcome to call our head office if you aren’t happy with what I’m able to offer you.”

Customer: “Then I want your name, and I’m going to file a complaint about you to your head office!”

Me: “If that’s what you’d like to do, then my name is [My First Name], and here’s a card with our head office number.”

Customer: “And what’s your surname?!”

(I have a distinctive surname, so don’t want to give it to this crazy customer!)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not going to give you my surname. I’m the only [My First Name] working at this store, so that will be enough to identify me.”

Customer: “Well, how do I know that’s even your name?! You’re not wearing a badge!”

Me: *sigh* “I don’t have a badge because I only recently started at this store, but the other staff members here will verify that [My First Name] is my real name.”

(The customer raises her voice in triumph, thinking I’ve been caught out.)

Customer: “Ha! You just said you were the most senior staff member, and you’ve only just started working here! This is outrageous! I demand to speak to your manager!”

(By this stage, I’m feeling thoroughly harassed by this customer and her barrage of questions.)

Customer: “Ma’am, I’ve been with [Company] for three years and recently transferred to this store from [Other Location]. I don’t have a badge because we have different uniforms and my new badge hasn’t arrived yet. So, if you like, you can either return with your voucher, my manager can call you tomorrow, or you can call head office with your concerns, and those are our options. What would you like to do?”

Customer: “Well, fine. I’ll just call your head office, then, and expect to hear about it!”

(She then slowly rants her way out of the store, stopping with my colleagues on the way, when I realise she has left her credit card on the counter. I take a deep breath and resist the urge to throw it straight in the bin.)

Me: “Ma’am! You forgot your credit card!”

Customer: “Hrmph!” *storms out*

(The next day, I spoke with my manager who assured me I’d done everything right, and agreed that the customer was crazy and/or very dim to not realise you need to bring a voucher in to claim its discount. I never heard from head office about her complaint!)

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This Is The Last Cut  

, , , , , | Right | October 21, 2019

(We have had a customer in the store for a couple of hours trying to choose curtain fabric. I’ve spent time with her but my supervisor has decided I’ve been with her for too long and pulls me aside.)

Supervisor: “What’s taking so long with this customer?”

Me: “I can’t get away from her; she wants curtain fabric and can’t decide.”

Supervisor: “Just show her where the fabrics are and leave her to choose.”

Me: “I’ve tried that.”

Supervisor: “Well, I’ll do it, then. It’s getting late and you need to finish [assigned work] before you leave.”

(I happily leave her with the customer while I go to complete my work. I also close the doors an hour later, noticing that the supervisor is still with the customer. I finally complete my work half an hour after closing and have finalised one of our registers. I’m doing some general tidying while waiting for the supervisor and customer come to the counter with the chosen fabric. I hear the woman wondering whether her husband would like it.)

Supervisor: “I think it would be a good idea if you took a sample home for your husband to see; we don’t refund on fabrics if you change your mind.”

Customer: “No, no, he’ll like it. Now I just have to work out how much I need. You will cut it to size, won’t you?”

Supervisor: “No, sorry, we don’t. It’s company policy.”

Customer: “Oh, you can do it for me, can’t you?”

Supervisor: “Sorry, but it’s already way past our closing time and cutting to size will take too much time. We would need exact measurements, anyway; you told me that you weren’t completely sure of the window sizes.”

Customer: “I know now. My husband sent me the sizes; they’re on my phone.” *shows phone with ten different window sizes on it*

Supervisor: “No, sorry, but again, that will take too long. It’s already 45 minutes after we closed. Nor can I risk going against company policy if I cut any of the measurements wrong.”  

Customer: “Oh, well, think of the lovely overtime you both will be getting.” *looks at me and grins*

(We both look at her like deer caught in headlights.)

Supervisor: “We don’t get overtime. We get paid only to closing time, and now we still have to stay until the register is counted and finalized.”

Customer: “Oh, that can’t be right.” *looks at me*

Me: “Yes, it is.”

(The supervisor has finally measured out the fabric and is about to cut.)

Supervisor: “Now, are you sure about this measurement and fabric choice? As I mentioned, there are no returns on fabric.” 

Customer: “Yes, yes it’s fine.”

(I ring up the sale and let her know the price before any cut is made. The customer is fine with the cost and pays before finally leaving.)

Supervisor: “Oh, my God, what a time-waster. How long was she in here for?”

Me: “Four hours.”

Supervisor: “I know she’s going to try to return that fabric. It will be over my dead body.”  

(We finally complete our closing duties and leave almost an hour and a half after closing. I have the next day off, and when I get back the day after, I see a bag of fabric at the counter.)

Me: “Uh, isn’t that the fabric that annoying woman bought?”

Supervisor: “Yes. Apparently, her husband didn’t like the colour and she came back for a refund. She told [Store Manager] that I told her that she could return it if he didn’t like it. He had a go at me about it, even giving her the refund after I told him she lied. She also complained that she wasn’t told what the final cost was before it was cut.”

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It’s Mrs. Fraud!

, , , , , | Right | October 18, 2019

(This is back in the days before chip and PIN. A customer comes up to pay for her purchase with a card. I check the signature and it’s completely different, but not just different writing, a different name. I turn the card over to check the name, and it’s distinctly a man’s name, and she is an unremarkable middle-aged woman.)

Me: “This isn’t your card.”

Customer: “No, it’s my husband’s.”

Me: “Well, you can’t use it.”

(She holds up bags from half a dozen other stores and says:)

Customer: “No one else said anything.” 

(Yup, she’d spent hundreds of dollars on a card she wasn’t even pretending was hers, and no one else had noticed.)

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Unfiltered Story #172070

, , | Unfiltered | October 18, 2019

*Every November, Melbourne shuts down for the first Tuesday for Cup Day. It is officially a state holiday so we can all gamble on a horse race.
I’m not making this up.*

Me: Welcome to [store], this is [my name]. How can I help you?
Customer: Yeah, I came to your store on Tuesday to look, but you were closed.
Me: That’s right. It was Cup Day.
Customer: Yeah, but your website says your hours are 11 to 6 on a Tuesday. I checked to make sure.
Me: Yes it does. But it was Cup Day.
Customer: So how come you weren’t open?
Me: Sir, what were YOU doing away from your job on Tuesday.
Customer: It was a holiday.
Me: Yes. Yes it was. That’s why we weren’t open.
Customer: Well, I want [item]. So how do you suggest I get it?!
Me: We have a website, sir. You previously mentioned browsing it, so just go back to it and purchase what you want through there. We deliver nationwide and delivery is free after the [value] level.
Customer: I want [unique and very expensive item]. Can you hold that for me?
Me: Unfortunately that wouldn’t be fair to other customers who may also want it and are willing to pay up front. But if you purchase it online, we can hold on to it until you’re ready to pick it up. Or we can have a courier bring it to you.
Customer: So how do I buy it now?
Me: Through the website, sir.

Her Need To Frame Innocent Men Will Go Hungry

, , , , , , | Friendly | October 14, 2019

(I do shift work. I’ve just come off a six-to-six night shift, and I stop by a popular fast food restaurant for coffee and breakfast before going home to my girlfriend. As there are two tour buses there, the dining room is quite busy, so I grab a table near the kids’ playground. I’ve just sat down and pulled out my tablet when a lady and a little boy who’s around five years old come to the table next to me.)

Little Boy: “Mummy, I’m hungry.”

Lady: “You’ll have to wait. Go play.”

Little Boy: “Okay.” *runs to the playground*

Lady: “What the h*** do you think you’re doing?”

Me: “I’m sorry, what?”

Lady: “My son saw your food and now he’s hungry.”

(I’m extremely confused, as they’ve walked past at least twenty other people eating and, you know, they’re in a restaurant.)

Me: “Umm… I’m eating breakfast. You do know you’re in a restaurant, right?”

Lady: “Don’t get smart with me, you pervert. Give me your food.”

Me: “What the h***?! Get your own!”

Lady: “No, I haven’t got any money and you’ve upset my son. Give me your food now. You’re not even eating it. The only reason you’re here is so you can perve on little kids. You paedophile.”

Me: “Why did you come to a restaurant if you don’t have any money? I’m just trying to enjoy my breakfast. Now f*** off and leave me alone.”

Lady: “Give me your food. Actually, just give me $50 or you’re in big trouble.”

Me: “Look, lady, I’ve just finished a 12-hour shift and just want to eat my food in peace. Leave me alone.”

Lady: *starts yelling* “HELP! HELP! THIS MAN IS A PAEDOPHILE AND TRYING TO KIDNAP MY SON. HELP!”

(I’ve been coming here for over five years and the staff know me. The manager and another worker come running.)

Manager: “[My Name], what’s going on?”

Me: “This lady is–”

Lady: “This man offered my son lollies if he went with him, and then threw our food out. I want our food replaced, a refund, and him arrested.”

Manager: “Really? Let’s check the cameras, shall we?”

Lady: *yelling again* “ARE YOU CALLING ME A LIAR? I BET YOU’RE IN ON THIS, AS WEL!. YOU’RE BOTH PAEDOPHILES!”

Manager: *to the other worker* “Call the police while I check the cameras.”

Lady: *runs to the playground, grabs her son, and takes off through the restaurant*

Manager: “What the f***?”

(I explained what had happened and the manager offered to replace my food and coffee as it was now starting to go cold. I declined and finished up eating. As I was leaving, the manager stopped me and gave me two coffees and a breakfast for my girlfriend.)

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