Unfiltered Story #191451

, , | Unfiltered | April 3, 2020

(An African-American man has just ordered an Iccee and bottle of water. His card is declined. It’s right around the holidays.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but your card was declined.”

Customer: “Huh… that’s weird. Let me give you another one.”

(He hands me another card. It gets declined as well.)

Me: (Realizing what’s probably happening) “I’m sorry, sir, but this one was declined as well. Have you been doing any holiday shopping lately? It’s possible your bank may automatically have put a temporary hold on your cards if you’ve been making a lot of purchases lately. It’s not uncommon this time of year, and we’ve had several guests the past week with the same problem.”

Customer: “Nah, I don’t think so. Try this one!”

(He thrusts another card forward, and it is declined.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but it seems this card has been declined as well.”

Customer: “Then it’s your system! It’s not MY cards!”

(I flag down a manager who runs into his office and checks the system, and it appears there is no error with the credit system.)

Manager: (Returning) “Sir, there’s no problem with our system that we can identify. Are you sure it isn’t possible that your accounts may have been temporarily put on hold? It happens more than you’d think this time of year.”

Customer: “My cards ain’t on hold! Give me my stuff for free, then!”

Manager: “Sir, if you’d like, you can use our phone to call your bank and sort the matter out.”

(He wanders off, complaining and repeatedly asking for his iccee and water for free before dialing his bank on our phone. In the meantime THREE separate customers come in and all successfully pay for concession items using their cards, so we know it’s not our system. About five minutes later, he returns.)

Customer: “I called my wife and she said she used the cards yesterday, so it’s not my cards! It’s your system! Gimme my stuff for free!”

Me: “Sir, I just rang up three guests who all paid with cards with no problem. It’s more than possible your account was put on hold today.”


(I try all three cards, and all three are declined.)

Me: “I’m sorry sir, but your cards are still being declined. If you’d like, I can give you some free courtesy cups of ice water to make up for the fact we can’t sell you a bottle of water. I’ll even throw in a few courtesy cups of iccee to make up for your inconvenience. But I won’t be able to give you your original purchase for free.”

Customer: (Screaming) “Oh, go to hell, cracker! I am NOT taking no hand-outs from some WHITE BOY! You’re just a RACIST cracker-a** b**** who ain’t giving my my stuff for free because I’m black! Keep your hand-outs!”

(He storms off, and later complains to our manager, trying to get me fired. The kicker? About two weeks later, he came in and ordered concessions from a co-worker, and off-handedly mentioned that he had been having issues paying for things because his cards had been placed on hold a few weeks back and he was still having trouble with the bank.)


, , , , | Right | April 1, 2020

(After doing a service for a thrift shop, I have the employee sign a hand-held device which then transmits the information to a wireless remote printer, which prints out the service ticket. The employee marvels at the technology.)

Employee: “That’s just amazing!”

Me: “Yes, it’s pretty sophisticated.”

Employee: “Like the phones everyone has now.”

Me: “I know. I should upgrade my phone, but I’m intimidated. They seem so complicated. The one I have now is old, but it does pretty much everything I need it to. I mean, I don’t need a phone that tells me the phases of the moon or what time it is in Tokyo.”

(We share a laugh over this and wait a bit while the ticket prints out. Just then, a customer approaches and interrupts us.)

Customer: “Excuse me, but does anyone know what time it is in Tokyo?”

(We laugh a bit more, and I say to the customer:)

Me: “All I know is that it’s five o’clock somewhere!”

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Unfiltered Story #191243

, | Unfiltered | March 31, 2020

I am a bouncer checking ID at a local club. On this particular night, two hispanic teens, who barely look 17 at the oldest approach me.*

Me: Okay sir, can I just see your IDs?

Teen: Uhh…no habla ingles.

Me: Your ID sirs. Something like this? *I show them my staff ID, which has my picture on it.*

Teen: Uhhh…no habla ingles. Gracias!

*The teens attempt to move past me and enter the club, I move to stop them.*

Me: Uh, no I’m sorry but I need to know you’re both over 18 before I can let you in.

Teen: No habla ingles!

*I’m about to radio for a co-worker who speaks spanish, however, at this point the door swings open and two patrons leave the club. Behind them the comedian on stage can be heard making a very profound joke. Both teens promptly crack up laughing.*

Me: No habla ingles huh?

Teen: *snickers* Si! Si!

Me: But you apparently understand English well enough to laugh when someone tells a joke in English?

Teen: Si! Si….oh…SH**!

*They turn and scurry away down the street.*

If That’s What You Want, Soviet

, , , , | Working | March 30, 2020

(In the 1980s, there was an effort to assist Jews in the USSR who wanted to emigrate but were denied. Really, all a US citizen could do was write to them and tell them we were working for their release. It also served to annoy the Soviets. My mother joined the campaign and was given a family to write to. Part of the instructions were to mail the letter with a “return receipt postcard” attached. This was to be mailed back by the recipients so that she would know that they received her original letter. I’m not sure who paid for this return postage. One time, after a suitable waiting period, the return postcard did not arrive. My mother went to the local post office to register a complaint. This was not a complaint against the US Postal Service but a way of letting the Soviets know we were watching.)

Mom: “I wish to register a complaint that a letter I sent to the USSR was not received. I know this because I never received the return receipt postcard.”

Clerk: “We would need a letter from them telling us they didn’t receive your letter.”

Mom: “Wait, what? You want them to send me a letter telling me they didn’t get the letter I sent them?”

Clerk: “Yes.”

(Mom stares at the clerk and asks for a manager, please. A manager comes over.)

Manager: “What seems to be the problem?”

Clerk: “I was just telling her I can’t open a complaint form until she receives a letter telling her they didn’t receive her letter.”

(The manager stared at the clerk and told them to go work on [something]. The manager then filled out the complaint form for my mother.)

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The 100-Foot Journey Is Too Much For Some

, , , , , , , | Right | March 27, 2020

(I’m the operations manager at a department store. In an effort to cut costs, we’ve been directed to remove our registers from some outlying departments. Since I’m one of the more technologically proficient people in my store, I’m unplugging things and getting them sorted out onto carts to be moved to the stockroom where they’ll be fully wiped of information before they’re sent back to a central hub. Thus far, I’ve detached the card readers and screens from both registers, they’re already on a cart behind me, and all the cash has been removed from the tills. A well-dressed, uppity-looking woman sets two boxes of shoes down in front of me.)

Me: “Good morning! If you’d like to purchase these they’ll be able to—”

Customer: “Of course I want to purchase them.”

Me: “Great. As I was saying, they’ll be able to help you in the jewelry department right over there.”

Customer: “Why would I walk all the way over there?”

(The jewelry department is perhaps 100 feet away, towards the entrance to the mall where I presume the woman came in. Our only other entrance is in the tool department, quite a bit further away.)

Me: “Well, if you came in by the tools, they’ll be able to check you out over there, as well.”

Customer: “Do I look like I came in by the tools? Ring me up for the shoes now. I hate waiting like this; it’s stupid.”

(I look down in front of me at the wires I’m clearly detaching from the CPU of the register and then back at the cart behind me that’s got the screens and card readers on it. I turn back to the customer.)

Me: “If it’s not incredibly obvious, these registers aren’t functional right now. You’ll need to go to a department with a functioning register to check out; there are people ready to take care of you at either entrance.”

Customer: “Well, if they aren’t functioning, fix them.”

(It’s been a long day already and I’m apparently over her.)

Me: “I’m sorry? I’m not going to reassemble a register, get a cash drawer for it, and reboot the whole thing so that you’re able to cash out here. Jewelry or tools, please.”

Customer: “I can wait here all day; you will serve me.”

Me: “I encourage you to hold your breath.”

(I worked there for four more years. I noticed that woman shopping several other times, and I never helped her. Serve yourself, you entitled witch.)

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