Has A Lot Of Baggage

, , , , | Right | October 3, 2018

(I’m sixteen and working in the housewares section of a department store. Part of the housewares section is luggage, with every single type of luggage set out in display units. In order to get the boxes with the luggage in them, you have to scale a two-story set of movable stairs in the warehouse. One night, FIVE minutes before closing, a well-dressed man and his wife come to the luggage department to inquire about luggage. I know just from looking at him he is going to be a delight to work with.)

Man: *quite imperious* “I have a very important meeting tomorrow in New York and I don’t have time for your ineptitude! I need to see this particular set of luggage right now!” *points to a set of blue luggage*

Me: *a little miffed by his attitude, but back then, the customer WAS always right* “Right away, sir.”

(I pull the luggage down from the display. The man actually HISSES at me!)

Man: “What do you think you’re doing? I don’t want to look at THOSE old things! I want to see a new set, right out of the box! Make sure the quality is what I need!”

(Off I go, into the warehouse and up the long moving stair/ladder to retrieve a huge box and come back down the stairs with it. Usually a stock person would do this job, but they all have gone home for the evening. I get the box down and return to the gentleman; at this point the speakers blare out the announcement that the store has indeed closed for the night.)

Man: “It’s about time! Do you know what kind of rush I’m in? It took you an hour to retrieve these!”

(It took me three minutes. I’m now freaking out because I’m not supposed to clock out any later than 9:02. I start ignoring the man’s attitude so I can get rid of him.)

Me: “Here we go. Let me open this for you so you can inspect them and we can get you home.

(I take out the large suitcase, unzip it and take out the smaller suitcases in turn. They, needless to say, look JUST LIKE THE DISPLAY. Nonetheless, he goes over them with a fine-tooth comb. 9:00 turns into 9:07.)

Me: “Now, just let me box this back up for you and…”

Man: “NO! These will not do! You will go at once and fetch me….” *looking at the other displays while pointing out his finger* “THAT set there. The burgundy one! Hop to it! I’m in a hurry.”

Man’s Wife: *quietly* “But dear, the store has already…”

(The man holds his hand up to silence her. The poor lady actually cows to her husband’s gesture! Now really pissed off and wanting to go home, I head back into the warehouse, back up the stairs to fetch the burgundy luggage, just knowing with every passing minute I am getting into serious trouble, trouble I can’t get out of because THE CUSTOMER IS ALWAYS RIGHT. I allow the box to slide down the banisters rather than try to carry it down each individual step, so at least I’m not in danger of falling with this massive box in hand. I grab the box, head back to the luggage section, and un-box this set of luggage.)

Man’s Wife: “Oh, those are nice! I think you should…”

Man: *again with the hand* “These will never do! They are too feminine! You got these out so I would look like a FOOL, didn’t you? You will now go and fetch me the BLACK set of luggage.”

(I now know this guy is just making this a sick joke and is enjoying bossing me around. I’m so desperate to get out of this but I can’t find any solution because I can’t tell this guy off. Suddenly, as I’m heading back for the THIRD box of luggage, the manager approaches me.)

Manager:: “[My  Name], why are you still here? You should have clocked out fifteen minutes ago!”

(I explain the whole situation to him, nearly breaking down in tears. The more he hears, the angrier he gets, and though I think he’s getting mad at me it becomes apparent that’s not the case. The great thing about this manager is he doesn’t take any crap. So, instead of going back into the warehouse, he makes me take him to this man.)

Man: *mistakenly thinking the manager is there to help him* “Oh, thank goodness there’s a MAN to help me! This girl is completely incompetent! She has repeatedly brought me the wrong luggage and wasted my valuable time! Now, if you would be so kind as to fetch me…”

Manager: *cutting him off* “Sir, why do you think we have displays here?” *the man is now stunned into silence.* “They are here so you can pick out the ONE set of luggage you need so my employee doesn’t have to continuously go into the stockroom to get boxes for you! She is NOT your servant; she is an employee who deserves respect! I am here to inform you the store is now closed! Here is what is going to happen: either you are going to purchase one of the two sets of luggage you forced my employee to retrieve for you OR you are going to exit my store. Immediately. The register closes in one minute. Make your decision now.”

(The manager gave the man a steely glare that, to this day, I’ve only seen this particular manager perfect.  The man and his poor wife immediately left, his rants of “Do you know who I am?” and “I make that man’s yearly salary in a month!” resonating throughout the store. I stared at the two boxes and the luggage the man had strewn in the area and the manager said, “Don’t worry about it; I’ll explain to the stock guys in the morning,” and sent me to clock out. Over twenty years later I still hope that guy finally learned some respect for others, especially women. And I seriously hope his wife got a divorce!)

Don’t Give Them Credit For Trying

, , , , | Working | September 29, 2018

(I get a phone call from an 800-number I don’t recognize. Every now and then, these are legitimate calls, so I answer.)

Recording: “Hello, this call is in regards to the interest rate on your Visa or Mastercard credit card account. To speak to a representative, please stay on the line.”

(As I only have one credit card, which is a secured card through a company that always identifies themselves on the phone, I know that this is a scam. I’ve got time, so I figure it’ll be fun to mess with the scammer, and I stay on the line.)

Scammer: “Hi, this is a call in regards to your Visa or Mastercard credit card. May I have your name, please?”

Me: “Sure, but first, what credit card company are you calling from?”

Scammer: *pause* “This is about your Visa or Mastercard credit card.”

Me: “Right, I gathered that. But which [Company] is the credit card through? Visa and Mastercard are typically issued by another company. So, which company is this?”

(He hung up on me. Rude.)

Doing A Boob Job, Not A Parenting Job

, , , , , | Right | September 27, 2018

(I work part-time in the children’s area of an “upscale” gym. The problem with children’s areas in gyms is that some people treat them like daycare, leaving their kids for HOURS when you know they aren’t working out that whole time. One boy is there almost every day, and is always a problem no matter how we approach him. He steals toys from other kids, tries to intentionally break things, ignores my coworkers and me, etc. It also doesn’t help that he is twice the size of other kids his age, and he knows it. I am told his mom has been notified, but nothing has changed. One day, he goes way too far and physically harms a smaller child. I sit him in “time out” to wait until his mother picks him up.)

Me: *to the mom when she walks in with one of her friends* “Ma’am, I’m afraid we need to talk to you about [Child].”

Mom: *ignores me, keeps talking to her friend, and holds out her member card to check her son out* “I’m telling you, [Doctor] is amazing! You can’t even tell they aren’t real!”

(She is clearly talking about her newly augmented breasts, which most definitely do not look real. She’s wearing designer workout clothes, has worn a bunch of diamond jewelry to a GYM, and doesn’t even look like she’s broken a sweat despite being there for three hours.)

Me: *fed up* “Ma’am? Ma’am!”

Mom: “What? I’m here for [Child].”

(I don’t want to discuss this in front of her friend, but have a feeling I don’t have a choice.)

Me: “Yes, I know, but we need to discuss what your son did to another child today. He physically harmed him.”

Mom: “Oh, I’m sure they were just playing and it was an accident.”

Me: “Ma’am, he punched and kicked another child who is half his size. I don’t think the other boy’s parents will consider that an accident.”

Mom: *has already stopped listening to me and is talking to her friend again* “I can get you a referral if you want, they have—”

Me: “MA’AM! What are you going to do about your son?”

Mom: “Excuse me?”

Me: “If you can’t address his behavioral problems, he will no longer be allowed in the children’s area.”

Mom: *now she’s heard me* “Who do you think you are?!”

Me: “I’m trying to tell you that you need to address this serious issue with your son.”

Mom: “Don’t you tell me how to raise my child!”

(She grabs her son’s hand and leaves. Right when they get to the door, the kid looks back and actually SMIRKS at me and my coworker.)

Coworker: “Did that just happen?”

Me: *facepalm* “Yes, yes it did.”

Coworker: “No wonder he has problems; his mom cares more about her boob job than taking care of her own kid.”

(I turned in my notice a week later.)

Constants Of Life: Grumbling Customers And Taxes

, , , , | Right | September 27, 2018

(I’m a customer in this story, getting into line to check out my items. I’m directly behind an older gentleman reading through a tabloid. This exchange happens when he gets to the checkout counter.)

Customer: “Can you tell me how much this costs? I can’t read it.”

Cashier: “Yes, it is $4.99. Would you like to purchase it?”

Customer: *thinks for a few seconds* “Yes.”

Cashier: *scans tabloid* “Sir, that will be $5.35, would you like a bag?”

Customer: *hands cashier a $5, grabs the magazine*

Cashier: “Sir, I need $0.35 more.”

Customer: “What, why?”

Cashier: “The total is $5.35.”

Customer: *points to magazine, shouts* “YOU SAID FOUR! FOUR! NOT FIVE!”

Cashier: “Yes, it’s $4.99, plus tax. The tax makes it $5.35.”

Customer: “NO.”

Cashier: “Yes, sir, you need to pay the tax.”

Customer: “WHY?! YOU SAID FOUR! FOUR!

Cashier: “It’s $4.99, plus the tax, so the total is $5.35.”

(This goes on for a minute, so I grab 35 cents from my pocket and hand it to the cashier. The cashier puts it into the till.)

Cashier: “It’s been paid for; you can leave now.”

Customer: *still shouting* “NO, YOU SAID FOUR! I am giving you this $5 and no more!”

Cashier: “Sir, the woman behind you paid the rest of it; you can take the magazine.”

(This surprisingly still goes on for another minute, as the customer either didn’t notice me paying for it or doesn’t believe the cashier.)

Cashier: *gives up* “Sir, please take the magazine and leave.”

Customer: *walks away, still grumbling*

Me: “You’re welcome, sir.”

(The customer ignored me and walked toward the door, still grumbling. I approached the counter, and the cashier and I shared a look that said, “Did that really happen?” As I paid for my items and turned to leave, the customer actually came back toward the counter, and I’m not sure what happened after that. That poor cashier. I hope the rest of his day went well.)

Unfiltered Story #119091

, , | Unfiltered | September 1, 2018

(I’m a 21 year old female working as the Assistant Manager at a well known video game retail store, it’s in the middle of a particularly normal evening when I get a phone call)

Me: “Thank you for calling (Store Name), my name is (Name) How can I help you tonight?”

Guy: “Hey, uh…I don’t mean to seem rude…but uh, is there a MAN I can speak to..?”

Me: “I’m sorry…?”

Guy: “Yeah, is there a guy I can speak to, I mean…you probably don’t know about video games…you’re a girl..”

Me: “Uh, sir, I’m the manager at this location, I have almost every gaming system ever created, and I’ve been here for 5 years, I feel pretty confident I can help you.”

Guy: “Oh…uh…okay then, let’s see if you can ACTUALLY help me better than a guy- my (gaming system) won’t come back on after I unplugged it from going back on vacation.”

Me: “Did you plug it back in..?”

Guy: “Uh no…”

Me: “But if you’d like, you can speak to one of my MALE associates, pretty sure he’d tell you the same thing, but what do I know? I’m a girl”

*click*

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