Giving Personal Information Means It’s Getting Personal

, , , , , | Right | June 23, 2018

(I work in a store. We sometimes take orders over the phone. To do this, you need to specify what you want and give a credit card number. Normal stuff.)

Customer: *on the phone* “I need to place an order.”

Me: “Awesome. Tell me what you would like to purchase, and I’ll get this started for you. The down payment will have to be credit card, since we are over the phone. Does that work for you?”

Customer: “Yes, of course.” *gives me the item numbers needed and personal information with no fuss*

Me: “Wonderful. Thank you, ma’am. Any item that is shipped in is non-returnable unless it is defective. If it’s been opened or used, we will not take it back. Is this acceptable to you?”

Customer: “Sure. That’s no problem. Thanks for all your help!”

Me: “Of course! Your total is going to be $360.94. I normally advise to put half down and pay the remainder at the time of pick up. All down is also fine.”

Customer: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Half down is just easier for most people and breaks up the lump sum–“

Customer: “No, you mean that I have to pay first?”

Me: “Yes, we do require at least half of the money be put down when ordered.”

Customer: “That’s absurd. I’ll just pay when I pick it up.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’m not able to do that. I need to be able to put down at least half of the money.”

Customer: “This seems like a scam.”

Me: “I promise that it is not a scam. We require a down payment essentially as insurance. Ordering in items costs us money, so we don’t want to risk the item not being paid for.”

Customer: “I’m not comfortable with this. I’m not giving you my card number.”

Me: “Well, the other option is for you to come into the store and pay with either cash, check, or card.”

Customer: “I can’t. I work during your hours.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t have another option.”

Customer: “No, you are trying to scam me. That’s why you want my credit card number!”

Me: “I can assure you that I’m not running a scam. Your card information will go into our secure system, just like it would if I ran your card in the store.”

Customer: “I hate these credit card scams! Don’t call me again!”

Me: “Ma’am… you called me.”

Impossible Requests? Practically Bathing In Them

, , , , , , | | Right | May 30, 2018

(I work at a grooming salon. My coworker and I are taking a slight breather before getting to our last dogs of the evening. I’m in the back where the kennels are, getting a jump on the cleaning, and my coworker is up in the actual salon, squaring away our paperwork. She walks into the back with me, and we exchange about three sentences, and then I walk up to the front to adjust my table and make sure all of my tools are organized and ready. As I walk into the salon, I notice a woman who just barely got inside. The door is literally still swinging closed. I smile at her, and she makes a face back at me.)

Customer: “Whew! There you are! I was starting to get worried we were in the wrong place!”

Me: “Well, you found the grooming salon, if that’s what you were looking for.”

Customer: “I was just wondering if you have time to wash my little girl here. She just needs a shampoo and a blow-dry.”

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry, but we’re completely booked up. Actually, we don’t have any bath appointments until two days from now.”

Customer: “Well, she’s just a little six-pound Yorkie. She’s no trouble at all!”

Me: “She’s so adorable! What a cutie! I’m so sorry that we can’t take her!”

(My coworker walks out with her goldendoodle, who is so huge he puts some ponies to shame.)

Customer: “Well, how long does it take to wash a dog?”

Me: “We usually quote three to four hours, though it could be more or less, depending on how the dog does for everything.”

Customer: “And what time do you close tonight?”

Me: “Six o’clock.”

(It’s currently 4:30.)

Customer: “I don’t want the whole works; I just want a little shampoo and a blow-dry, not even a full bath.”

(I tend to have a rather monotone voice and resting b****-face, so I try to make sure that I smile and sound pleasant. This customer is definitely trying my patience, and it’s really important to me that it does not come out in my face or voice.)

Me: “Yes, a shampoo and a blow-dry is considered a full bath. Again, I am so sorry that we are unable to accommodate you tonight!”

Customer: “It’s just… I’m visiting some friends, and she really needs a bath.”

Me: “Yes, it’s really too bad that I can’t take her. She really is just so cute!”

Customer: “I’ve been to other [Store] branches; I should be in your system.”

Me: “I’m sure you are. All of the [Store] computer systems are connected.”

(We both pause awkwardly, as she is unwilling to leave, and I’m grasping for a polite way to tell her that I have to get back to work.)

Customer: “Well… I guess… if you don’t have time.”

Me: “Yes, I’m really sorry that we don’t, but maybe we can help you out some other time!”

(The customer turns to the door and grasps the handle, and I almost hold my breath in hopes that she’ll leave already.)

Customer: “I’ve already told you that I’m not from around here. DON’T SAY THAT!”

Me: *smiling hugely* “Okay! Y’all have a great night!”

(As soon as the door closes, my coworker and I start cackling like mad.)

Me: “What just happened?”

Coworker: “I don’t know; I’m just glad I came out when I did so that I could witness it!” *imitates customer* “’I already told you I’m not from here. DON’T SAY THAT!’”

Me: “How many times did I tell her no? And somehow I’m the one who didn’t listen?”

(It had actually been a really stressful day, so I was almost a little thankful to the customer for giving my coworker and me something to laugh about while we finished our dogs.)

Like The Items, You Should Leave This Scam Behind

, , , , | Right | May 8, 2018

(I’m working at a store over the holiday season. A woman comes up to the register. I have seen this woman a couple times, and each time she has claimed that she or a family member purchased something earlier and forgot to grab it, and that a member of management told them they could come back to get it. We ALWAYS communicate things like this, so she is always turned away. Finally, a fourth time has occurred.)

Woman: *handing things over to be scanned* “Are you having a good day today?”

Me: “I am, ma’am.” *notices several items still in her cart, concealed* “Would you mind handing me those items to scan?”

Woman: “Oh, my daughter paid for these earlier; a lady manager said it’d be okay if I came and got them.”

(We don’t have any female managers at this time. Also, any paid-for merchandise left behind stays behind the counter where all customers are instructed to go to retrieve it.)

Me: “Ma’am, we do not have any female managers here. Can I please scan the items? No communication was left about these items being left.”

Woman: “This is stupid. What kind of service is this? These have been paid for. The lady manager told me I could take them.”

Me: “I am sorry, again, but we have no female managers here. I can scan the items and see if we sold any recently, and look up the transactions, if you wish?”

Woman: “What kind of service this is?! Are you calling me a thief?”

Me: “Not in so many words, but you have come in several times and used this same story. Each time, no manager knew what you were speaking of, and none of those items had been sold recently. I can only suspect they were not bought here. It would help if you didn’t come to the same store and the same cashier every time.”

Woman: “The guy last time had a beard! I want my items.”

Me: “It’s called a razor blade. And if you attempt to take these, I will call the cops.”

Woman: “Maybe my daughter was mistaken. I don’t know.”

(She quietly paid for the items and left… and tried the same ruse two more times with other cashiers.)

Oh, Brother!

, , , , , , | Working | January 17, 2018

I am job hunting and end up waiting tables at a new, fancy, family-owned Italian restaurant run by two brothers. For the first week or so, everything is perfect; friendly coworkers, good food, fast service, nice pay, etc.

However, about a month into the job, the two owners start bickering with each other. At first it’s just snips and snipes, but over the next week it gets into full-blown screaming. Coming from an Italian family, I can safely say there isn’t a more volatile argument than two Italians from the same family going at it. They go all out, complete with swears and threats, right in earshot of our diners, several of whom have children. Predictably, we get swamped with complaints and demands for refunds, and unfortunately, I even catch a few people recording the outburst on phones. When a coworker goes to tell the brothers that their fighting is ruining the night, the argument gets even louder as they start accusing each other of sabotaging their business. By the time it’s passed, the dining room is basically empty, with a handful of bemused people sitting around, enjoying the “dinner and a show.”

This continues for another week, and unfortunately, the restaurant gets a reputation for the brothers fighting to the point that guests start showing up just hoping to watch. The wait staff and chefs run themselves ragged trying to keep the business afloat, as the owners are now more concerned with their feuding. Eventually, they do make up, but only by reaching the conclusion that the business is failing, not because of them, but because of the staff.

We have all dealt with their crap long enough when it wasn’t directed at us. The first night they try to pick fights with us, the majority of the wait staff walks out without a word, myself included. Before long, the rest of the staff quits as well, either out of defiance, or out of a desire to avoid being the only target left.

I drive by the next week on the way to get groceries and see the restaurant with a “Help Needed” sign on it, and the week after that, it is shut down. I feel bad for them, but if you’re going to start a family business, you should probably do it with a relative you don’t absolutely despise.

Do Not Make Contact With Your Girlfriend

, , , , , , | Romantic | October 8, 2017

(I am waiting for my boyfriend at a restaurant and this happens:)

Stranger With Glasses: *walks up to me* “Hey, beautiful.”

(The stranger kisses me before I can react. I freak out and punch him in the face, throwing him to the floor and knocking off his glasses.)

Me: “YOU CRAZY SICKO! Wait a minute… [Boyfriend]?”

(And that’s how I found out my boyfriend wears contacts.)