Unfiltered Story #160894

, , , | Unfiltered | August 23, 2019

(There is a note waiting for me when I come in Monday morning. It claims someone had come in after hours Sunday evening and bought something, effectively messing with the credit card terminal and our cash registers. Please note: the credit card terminal closes itself out at 5am every morning, even if an employee forgets to. The cash registers are so old, everything is manual, including closing and opening. I’m a little confused by the wording of the note, so I call the assistant manager.)

Me: Hey, [Assistant], what happened last night? I got this note from [other employee]?

Asisstant: *sighing* Last night was inventory, yeah? [Other employee] and I were finishing up. Both registers were closed, the paperwork was done, everything was finished except the inventory. About seven o’clock this woman and her kids come up and start banging on the door, asking if we were open.

Me: It was Sunday, after six. Of course not.

Assistant: We left the lights on. Apparently she took that to mean we were still open.

Me: Don’t tell me you let her in.

Assistant: She screamed at us, saying she’d tell corporate that the customer is always right. You know the moment they do that they lie and get gift certificates thrown at them – and us in trouble.

Me: (something pings in my head) But…the registers were closed…aren’t we not supposed to let people in –

Assistant: Didn’t matter. She whined. We couldn’t finish inventory with her yammering.

Me: Which ruined inventory.

Assistant: Yep.

Me: Which means the poor bastard closing tonight gets to deal with this.

Assistant: It’s me. I’m closing. And I get to tell corporate of the wonderful woman with her bratty kids who came in an hour after close to buy crap, explain why closing paperwork makes no sense, and why we were there two hours after we should have been. So I’ll see you in a few hours?

(The assistant manager spent three hours that Monday evening trying to get paperwork to go through the computer, and didn’t get home until after midnight. The best part? Even our District Manager, who was ALL about making more money, even told us we shouldn’t have let that woman in – because the registers were closed!)

The Kid’s Probably Outgrown Them By Now, Anyway

, , , , | Right | April 16, 2018

(Our store is officially closing for good. This is in September. However, in February or so, someone placed an order for kids shoes, paid for it over the phone by credit card, and has never been in to pick it up, nor has she ever told us to ship the shoes. Said shoes have been sitting in the back of our “hold” shelf — behind a door, behind the registers — and we have all but forgotten about it. Our District Manager is helping us move stuff and destroy it, and since this box of shoes has been out of our inventory for six months, corporate cannot take it back without speaking with the woman who ordered. Luckily, we have the woman’s credit card and phone on file, so our District Manager called her. I can’t remember exactly what was said, but this is basically what happens. Please note our District Manager is from New Jersey, NOT the North Shore of Chicago.)

District Manager: “Hello. My name is [District Manager]. I’m looking for…” *silence* “Yes, hello.”

(The woman on the phone says something.)

District Manager: “Okay, so, we have shoes here that you bought in [Whatever Month]. We are closing this branch of the store, and we were looking to ship them to you—”

(The woman says something else.)

District Manager: “Well, we have them here, and…” *pause* “Well, we are willing to ship them to you free of charge…” *pause* “Yes, I understand you’ve moved to North Carolina, but as you’ve paid for them, we would gladly ship them to you…” *pause* “Yes, but as we are closing, and you’ve already paid for them, we can ship them to you free of charge…” *pause* “Ma’am, we’re closing. I repeat, we will not be here… “ *pause* “We can ship them to you. The store is closing. It will not be here. We will not be open. We will be closed. There…” *pause* “No, ma’am. We can ship them to you. Free of charge. Ma’am. You’ve already paid for them. Ma’am. Yes. I know you’ve moved to North Carolina, but as these shoes are out of our inventory, we cannot take them back.” *pause* “Yes, you can return them, but only on the card ending in [number]…” *pause* “No, ma’am, we cannot put it on another card. Ma’am. I know. We can ship them to you…” *pause* “Ma’am. Yes. We know you’ve moved. Yes. We’ll ship them. Right away. Yes. Thank you. Have a great day. Yes. Thank you.”

(She hangs up and I say:)

Me: “I love that you tried to tell her we could ship.”

District Manager: “That’s not what I was doing, but I wasn’t expecting her to be quite that stupid… considering she spent over a hundred dollars on kids’ shoes.”

(The rest of our closing went without a hitch.)

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