When I was going to college at a commuter campus, there was one semester that, due to tight finances, I was stuck driving an old car. It had a recurring problem where the engine would randomly die while idling. I was working on getting money together to get a more reliable car, but in the meantime I had to use this one.

Usually, when the engine died, it would start right up again without issue, but every once in a while it would take several minutes of letting the engine sit before I could get it started again.

One time I was on my way to class, sitting at a red light at a busy intersection, when the engine died. Unfortunately, it did not start up again right away, and I knew I was going to be stuck there for a bit. I immediately put on my emergency flashers while trying to gesture to the lady in the car behind me that she would have to go around. The light turned green, and the lady started honking at me and angrily gesturing for me to move. I frantically tried to start the car again, hoping I could at least get it going enough to pull up on the curb and out of the way.

While I was doing this, I saw a woman who was parked nearby get out of her car, walk up to the lady behind me, and angrily shout, “You dumb b****! Can’t you see he’s having a problem with his car? GO THE F*** AROUND!”

The lady squealed her tires in doing so. The woman who did the shouting then came up to my window and in the kindest, sweetest voice asked if I was okay. I told her that I just needed to try to get my car moving enough to get it out of traffic. She said, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just do what you have to do. I’ve got your back!”

I thanked her profusely, and finally managed to get the car moving long enough to pull it into a parking lot where I could wait for a tow truck. That turned out to be the last time that car worked right, and I ended up getting a replacement soon after.

While I definitely wouldn’t have handled the situation the same way that woman did, it was an amazing feeling to have a stranger so fiercely watching out for me!

(A customer comes in to my store on a very busy holiday afternoon. Most of the store is on sale, all of it carefully marked and constantly checked because we have a lot of customers who would be happy to argue about a signage error.)

Me: “Good afternoon! Welcome to [Store]! Are you shopping for a special occasion today?”

Customer: “Do you have any coupons?” *not “Hi,” or “Good afternoon,” or “How are you?” or any other greeting*

Me: “Ma’am, you would have received any current coupons either in your mail, or by email, or text if you are signed up with us. We do not keep coupons in the store.”

(We never have, and anyone who has ever shopped with us knows this, but I have found that doesn’t keep even regular customers from asking anyway.)

Customer: “Hmph!” *points to full run of dresses on a rack with no sales signs* “Is this dress on sale?”

Me: “No, ma’am. All the sales dresses, and everything else on sale, are on racks with signs on top or have a tag hanging on their hanger.”

Customer: “Well, why not?!”

Me: “Ma’am, that’s a brand-new arrival.”

Customer: “Hmph. Well, I’m just looking.”

(She wanders through the store for nearly an hour, slowly collecting clothes and badgering the manager-on-duty and me as to whether each garment was on sale and how much the sale price is, and repeatedly asking about coupons and getting the same answer each time from both of us. After she’s tried on and made her selections, she brings her clothes to the counter and starts digging through her purse while I get the information I need to start ringing up her purchase and begin to do so.)

Customer: “I know I have a [Store] coupon in here! Where is it?” *she dumps what seems like hundreds of mailers from stores and other coupons on my counter* “I had a 15% coupon for this place. That woman! That woman at the [Other Location Store]; she took my coupon. Mm-mm-mmh! She took my coupon!”

(I continue ringing up clothes with a blank but smiling face during this monologue, saying nothing and refusing to take the passive-aggressive hint that I should come up with a coupon code.)

Customer: “Let me ask you something. Why would that woman take my coupon?”

Me: “Ma’am, our coupons work just like at the grocery store or any other store. You can only use them once.”

Customer: *showing absolutely no surprise that she got that answer* “Mmph. I still think I should have a coupon.”

Me: “I’m so sorry you can’t find one. Your total is [total]. You’ve rolled over your reward points with your purchase today; here’s your certificate. Have a great holiday!”

(We found out when clearing the fitting rooms that she’d left all her unwanted clothing in a pile, too. Afterwards, I told the manager-on-duty that there was no way I was going to hunt for a coupon code for her, given her behavior with the two of us before checking out. The MOD said she’d enjoyed watching me refuse to cave in to the woman at the register, and didn’t understand why people couldn’t figure out that being rude wouldn’t get them any favors.)

Related:
The Couponator 8: The Fabric Of Reality
The Couponator 7: The Forgotten Coupon
The Couponator 6: The Coupon Awakens

(I work in the electronics department. Most of our customers are not too terrible, but being a rural town has its “quirks.” As such, we have more employees that can be just as abrasive when needed. I just get to the sales floor and start doing some chatting with my colleague, when a husband and wife walk up to the counter and this happens.)

Me: “Hello, can we help you find anything today?”

Husband: “You sure as h*** can!” *points at a TV display on a main aisle* “You see them 55″ TVs? I bought one of them f****** things a week ago for [price] WITH tax!”

Me: *bobbing my head, being understanding* “Okay, and was something wrong with it? If there was we—”

(The customer’s wife pipes up.)

Wife: “Nah, nothin’ like that. WE bought it for [price]! Not THAT price!”

Husband: “Yeah, now how’s come them TV’s are [price]?! If I knew that they would be this low I woulda f****** waited!”

(Confused, I look between the two customers.)

Me: “Well, that is unfortun—”

Husband: “We want one of them reimbursements! It ain’t fair that we bought our TV, and it changed price a week later!” *at this point they both are raising their voices*

(My brain has shut off as I look dumbfounded. Both my colleague and I look at each other completely at a loss for what to do, having never been trained for what entails a reimbursement.)

Me: “All right, give me one moment.” *I call over the walkie for management and then wait*

(The husband starts ranting about how unfair it is that there was a price change.)

Husband: “We are f****** ENTITLED to a reimbursement! I can’t believe how you guys could sell us that TV without telling us that the price would change! I mean, I understand you gotta sell this s***, but this just ain’t fair.”

Me: “Yes, well, I apologize, but I have no power over that. I also want to make sure that we can make the reimbursement. We don’t normally do that kind of thing and if it had been a week ago, I’m not too certain what the cut-off is. That seems more than likely up to manager’s discretion.”

(I have lost that “Peppy Happy voice” and drop to a more “steel, serious voice”, but manage to keep the smiles, as he curses more and rants about us not being “fair” and them being “entitled.”)

Manager: *walks up in full manager-mode* “What can I do for you all?”

(We explain the situation and she gives the go ahead for the reimbursement and notifies customer service, then the couple leaves.)

Me: *I shake my head, still annoyed* “I’m pretty certain that those TV’s have been on sale for more than a week, [Manager].”

Manager: “I wouldn’t doubt you guys, but hey, maybe the receipt will do something.”

(It is when when Facebook is in its infancy. While my siblings and I each have created our own pages, our parents have not. My younger brother has recently moved six hours away from our parents to attend college out of state in Ohio. He posts pictures of his college life, one of which is of an attractive girl sitting on his bed with a textbook in her lap. I look at the picture and quickly spot a few “interesting” things. Based on what I see, I form what I believe to be a logical conclusion, one that I know our parents would jump to if they saw the same photo. I decide I’ll try to save my brother a headache and give him a call to see if I came to the right conclusion. I give him a call and quickly bring up the subject of the photos, commenting on how nice they look. My brother quickly catches on.)

Brother: “You want to know who the girl in the photo is and if I’m dating her.”

Me: “I won’t deny my curiosity about the girl in the photo, but I’m honestly more interested in how you’re doing.”

Brother: *sighs* “She’s a friend I’ve made recently. My roommate and I are in the same psychology class, we formed a study group, she’s part of the study group, and now we’re all friends. Just friends.”

(We continue to talk about this group of friends he has made. He states they’re all from different parts of Ohio, that he’s the only one in the group not from there, they’re all majoring in something different, etc. At the end of it all, I’m glad to hear he is doing well, but he still hasn’t addressed the reason why I called. I continue to play along and get as much information I can get him to divulge.)

Brother: “So… are we done?”

Me: “Not quite. I know that you’re not telling the whole truth about the girl in the photo. So I want you to tell me the whole truth about her, and in exchange, I’ll tell you why you should take that photo down before Mom and Dad see it.”

Brother: “I told you already; we’re just friends.”

Me: “Friends with benefits, possibly?”

Brother: “Uh…”

Me: “Look, I get it. Being away at college and living in a dorm allows you certain freedoms that you wouldn’t otherwise have living at home with Mom and Dad. I don’t care what, or who, you do, as long as it isn’t illegal, you keep your grades up, you’re not hurting yourself or anyone else, and you’re protecting yourself doing whatever it is. And I’m certainly not going to tell Mom and Dad, either; they don’t need to know. Just tell me the truth.”

Brother: *long pause* “Fine. I like her, and she likes me, but neither of us want to be in a serious relationship right now, so we hook up every now and again. What I want to know is, how did you figure that out by just looking at one photo of her?”

Me: “Easy. Clue #1: You’ve made a point to take and post a photo of this girl, and it isn’t a group setting or anything like that. That indicates to me she is someone special. And trust me, Mom will jump to that same conclusion. Clue #2: If you’re going to start posting your photos, figure out how to remove the time-stamp feature on your camera. The photo is time-stamped for Saturday at eight am. Way too early for a study session, if you ask me. Not to mention she looks like she just rolled out of bed. And finally, probably the biggest indicator, is Clue #3: You’ve freely admitted to me she is a local girl, so what reason could she have for wearing a t-shirt with your high school’s name on it? And don’t tell me there’s a high school with the same name in Ohio. Mom has washed that shirt plenty of times, and I’ve seen you wear it often enough to know that it belongs to you, because you can see the tear in the sleeve that yours has.”

(My brother was utterly baffled by this and immediately removed the photo from his page. A few days after that, our Mother called him to let him know she signed up for Facebook and wanted him to accept her friend request. He thanked me for helping him dodge a bullet from our ultra-conservative parents.)

(I am walking by a coworker who is checking out a lady, when…)

Coworker: “Hey, [My Name], she wants to know if this has been returned or not.”

Customer: “No, I know it has been returned; it has a piece of wrapping paper still taped to it. I just want to know if it’s okay.”

Me: “Certainly. All items are supposed to be checked before they are put back on the shelves, but we can open it up here for you to take a look at if you’d like.”

Customer: “No, I don’t want to open it. It’s a wedding gift. I just want to know if it’s okay!”

Me: “Well, the only way to really check is by opening it.”

Customer: “No! I already told you it’s a gift. I just need to know it’s okay!”

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t really just look at it and know if it’s okay. I can’t see through the box.”

Customer: “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid! I know you can’t see through the box, but I need to know it’s okay! It’s a wedding gift!”

Me: “I don’t really know what else to do for you.”

(I walked away, sorry that I forgot my x-ray goggles at home that morning.)