Loonie Over A Toonie, Part 5

, , , , | Right | August 9, 2018

(I work in a retail store that offers customers a store credit card. One detail that a lot of people like about the card is that they can bring their bill in and pay it in the store. We’re close to Canada, but still a solid couple of hours away.)

Woman: “I want to pay my bill.”

(Everything proceeds normally until she pulls out her cash. She has American bills, but she has several Canadian coins. It’s quite common to get Canadian coins here, but the managers have asked us to stop accepting them because, you know, it’s foreign currency.)

Me: “Ma’am, do you happen to have American coins?”

Woman: “No.”

Me: “These are Canadian coins. We’re trying to not—”

Woman: “I got them from the shops around here. What’s the problem?”

Me: “This isn’t Canada.”

Woman: “But I got them from the stores here. What does it matter?”

Me: “This isn’t American currency.”

(This woman looked like she was about to have a hissy fit, so I decided to let it slide, seeing how the coins aren’t counted in the register and it wasn’t that large an amount. It just baffled me that this woman didn’t think that there was a difference between American and Canadian coins. You wouldn’t pay with Canadian bills, so why would you pay with their coins?)

Related:
Loonie Over A Toonie, Part 4
Loonie Over A Toonie, Part 3
Loonie Over A Toonie, Part 2

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Acting Totally Fake

, , , , , , | Right | August 8, 2018

(I am a supervisor. It is about an hour after our peak period finishes. Two people walk into the store: one female, one male, both acting a little odd. I decide to take their order instead of the cashier. About halfway through the order, the woman pulls out a $50 note, but it is obviously fake. She tries to pay with it.)

Me: “I am sorry, but this note is fake.”

Woman: “Really? It can’t be; I just got it out of the ATM!”

Me: “It is obviously fake and I have to confiscate it.”

Woman: “Then the ATM is giving out fake notes! Give it back so I can complain!”

Me: “You have tried to pay with fraudulent currency; by law I can’t give it back. Unless you have any real money with you, I cant process this order.”

(The woman looks in her purse, and I notice that she has a large amount of similar-looking $50 notes.)

Woman: “But what are you going to do with the food?”

Me: “Unless you pay for it, it will be handed out to another customer that orders the same item.”

(She turns around and walks to the male she came in with and starts talking, while I make my way to the office to put the fake note into the safe.)

Cashier: *to me* “Hey, you might want to come out; the guy is looking really pissed off.”

(I walk out, but keep behind the bench behind the front counter.)

Guy: “Give me my f****** money back!”

Me: “We have the right to confiscate that money.”

Guy: “It’s my f****** money; get it here now!”

Me: “I can’t legally do that; it is now property of the federal police.”

Guy: “You will give it back or I will f****** make you.”

Me: “I can’t.”

(He proceeds to pick up the donation box and tug on it. Then he notices the chain attaching it to the counter, and he throws it at me. I don’t move, as there is no way it can hit me.)

Guy: “Give me my f****** money back!”

Me: “It’s fake; I can’t.”

Guy: “Well, give me my f****** fake $50 back!”

(He stormed out the front door.)

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Beggars Can Be Choosers, Apparently

, , , , , , , | Friendly | August 7, 2018

A few years ago, I used to take the buses to come home from a coffee shop where I worked.

There was a homeless man at a gas station with a sign, asking for money. I made good tips there, and usually this was money that I use to buy food for dinner every night for my children, but that day I was okay, so I decided to give him my entire bag of tips. I was feeling good about it, so I turned back to look at him when I had walked away.

That man took out the dollar bills out and was throwing the bag with the rest of the money away in a trash can! I was mad! Yes, it was change, but probably at least $10 worth of change!

I marched right back up to him, took the bag out of the trash and took the bills back straight from his hand! I felt bad, but I was mad that he had just thoughtlessly thrown out good money.

I bought groceries for my kids, instead.

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The Universe Pays A-Ten-tion

, , , , | Hopeless | August 3, 2018

(I’m waiting for my train when a woman with her two kids approaches me:)

Woman: “I’m so sorry to ask this, but I’ve lost my wallet and I need to get my kids home. Do you have any cash that I can borrow to cover the fare? I can get your details and I’ll pay you back. I’m so sorry.”

(The train that I need to catch is approaching.)

Me: *hands her $10* “Here. This should cover it.”

Woman: “Thank you. Let me get your number—”

Me: *gets on train* “Don’t worry about it. Have a good night!”

(Fast forward to three days later. I’m in a different part of town, walking to work at about 7:00 am. A car drives past me, slows down, and then pulls over to the side of the road. The woman from the train station steps out.)

Woman: “Hi! I just noticed you’re the girl from the other day at the train. I’ve only got coins; is this okay?”

(She handed me $10 in coins. I actually couldn’t believe it. The universe works in weird but wonderful ways!)

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Tax Doesn’t Register

, , , , , | Right | July 26, 2018

(I am a student, working in the fifties-style diner in our college’s union. Normally, we are supposed to ask for student IDs to verify that the customer doesn’t have to pay tax, but if they look close, we’ll give it to them without asking. Our registers have very old touch screens, and sometimes you have to press a button multiple times to make it work. After the transaction has gone through:)

Me: “Thank you and have a nice day!”

Customer: “What is this?”

(She shows me her receipt, pointing to a line at the bottom. Apparently, her tax wasn’t taken off.)

Me: “I’m sorry; I guess I must’ve made a mistake.”

Customer: “Redo it.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Me: “Redo the order. I want my money back.”

(NO ONE besides our boss has the capacity to open the register outside of a transaction, let alone do a refund. I ask one of my supervisors, anyway, on the off chance they might be able to. No such luck. I tell my coworker on the only other register I’ll be back. My boss is nowhere to be found. I have to go all the way down to the accounting office to grab someone to help me. By the time we get back, the line is out the door. We redo everything, and the girl leaves with a nod, having gotten her money back.)

Coworker: “How much was the refund?”

Me: “Thirty-three cents.”

Coworker: “You’re kidding.”

Me: “I’m not. If I’d had my wallet, I’d have given her a dollar of my own money and told her to never come back.”

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