Unfiltered Story #160150

, , , | Unfiltered | August 18, 2019

We have recently had a new range of digital TV recorders in store so the older models are being sold at a discount. Last year’s 1TB version (which is a very different physical design to this year’s) is being sold for the same price as this year’s 500GB version. I work in this department and happened to over-hear the beginning of this incident at the front desk so intervened.

Cashier: That will be £219 please.

Customer: I don’t think so!

Cashier: Sorry?

Customer: It’s supposed to be £189!

(Cashier looks at me for help)

Me: Sorry, it’s the 500GB version that’s £189. You’ve got the 1TB version there. (Points to label on box)

Customer: No! It said 1TB on the label!

Me: Okay, can you show me where you picked it up from, please? It’s possible you picked up the wrong one.

Customer (indignantly): We DID get the right one!

Me (Still smiling but starting to lose patience): Well in that case the label is wrong and I need to change it. Either way, I need you to show me where you got it from.

We walk down to the display area with the customer still huffing and puffing. I see the pile of the recorders on the shelf with two very clear labels showing the different prices. I point this out to the customer.

Me: See? The 500GB one is £189 and the 1TB one is £219.

Customer (Smugly): What about HERE?! It says 1TB £189!

She points at a different part of the display entirely, far from where she picked up the box, where the older model is still on display for the discounted price.

Me: That’s last year’s model. See? (I hold up the box to show her they are different units. The one on display wouldn’t even fit in the box she had picked up.) They do the same job but the new one is smaller and doesn’t have a display screen.

Customer’s husband (Who has been silent up to now): Why would they take away the display on the newer and supposedly better one? Don’t they think people want to see the information?

Me: It comes up on the screen of the TV. It seems they decided people would prefer a more compact box.

Customer: Oh… So, can we have one of those please?

Me: We’re down to our last one as it’s an old model but you’re welcome to take the display unit. It’s not been used, just sat on the shelf.

Customer: Pft! Sat on the shelf gathering dust!

Me: Well if you prefer, you can have a brand new boxed one for £30 more? (This is the option most customers go for)

Customer: No… We’ll take that one. Do we get a discount as it’s the shelf model?

Me: No. It’s marked down on clearance already. We won’t be doing any further discount.

Customer: Oh… Thanks for your help.

I box up the display model and process the transaction. Thing is, I COULD have given her a small discount and probably would have done for anyone else but she was so obnoxious and self-righteous I decided she wasn’t anything!

Customer:

Is Going To Ace That Test

, , , , , , | Related | July 23, 2019

(My friend is asexual and has a pencil case that he treats like a son. My parents both know this, so while I’m doing some science revision…)

Dad: “Now, how does this reproduce?”

Me: “I can’t remember! Can you give me a hint?”

Dad: “Think about how [Friend] created [Pencil Case].”

Me: “It’s asexual reproduction, isn’t it?”

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Cuddles Cure All

, , , , , , | Hopeless | May 9, 2019

Many years ago I adopted a pair of cats — sisters, who were fully litter trained but were in all other ways absolutely feral.

After years of work, they have become what I can only describe as… cats. The bolder sister, Sif, has become an unabashed tyrant, demanding tribute — cuddles — from any mortal foolish enough to enter my flat. Her sister, Freya, has learned that cuddles are awesome but has an almost impossibly complex recipe for when it’s okay to cuddle her. Specifically, she will not sit on human skin, so you’d better be wearing trousers, and she will not get under the duvet the way her sister does for nap-time cuddles.

That is, until I got ill. Not regular “I have the flu” ill; a nasty deliberate — it sure as h*** wasn’t an accident — left me disabled and my health had taken a turn for the poo. Lying in bed, my chronic pain condition acting up — a side effect of the deliberate — I was in the worst place of my life.

Then, Freya clawed her way under the duvet. She pressed herself as close as she could get to my naked chest and she buried all of the claws farthest from me into the bed. Then, using those claws as an anchor she tucked herself even tighter into me, bracing against her own claws, and she purred.

She purred so hard my whole torso vibrated as this tiny cat showed me how much she loved me and how much I mattered, and I fell asleep to the sound of this tiny, runty cat purring her love so hard that her whole body shook and, for one perfect afternoon, I felt loved.

Freya passed at the end of last year, but the memory of her overcoming all of her taboos and phobias to comfort me that afternoon still makes even the darkest day a little better.

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Unfiltered Story #149558

, , , | Unfiltered | May 6, 2019

(I’m in the queue at the post office behind a lady who is trying to pay her electric bill. She hands the cashier her payment card, when…)

Cashier: Oh, the magnetic strip on this is pretty worn, it won’t swipe. I’ll key in the number by hand, but you might want to contact the company and ask for a new card.
Customer: What? Why would I do that?
Cashier: Well, someone might type the number in wrong by accident.
Customer: How dare you! I don’t come here for you to get my number wrong! I expect better service!
Cashier: M-Madam, I have no intention of getting it wrong, I just thought…
Customer: Well, don’t! I’m shocked that you’d be so insolent as to tell me my business.

(The manager on duty comes over from the next register to ask if everything’s okay, as the woman is being quite loud.)

Customer: You! You need to train your employees better! This one was about to put my money on someone else’s account!
Manager: Madam, I assure you–
Customer: Your useless staff member can’t even key in a number right! Why do you hire these idiots?
Manager: Madam, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.
Customer: What?
Manager: I won’t put up with you treating my employees like this. Please take your card and go. And get a new one from your provider before you come into my post office again.

(The customer snatches her card back and walks off in a rage, to the tutting of everyone in the shop. I walk up to the register.)

Me: Are you okay? She was awful!
Cashier: That was the third time this week…

So Cute He Could Just Eat You Up

, , , , , , , | Related | April 23, 2019

When my brother was a toddler, he never seemed to stop eating, and once his teeth grew in he would eat pretty much anything and everything he had access to. This led to some pretty funny moments.

Moment #1: While eating a packet of crisps, my brother fell asleep. The rule in my family, even at that age, was that if you left your snacks unattended, family members were allowed to take some. On this occasion, he fell asleep with one hand in the bag, and the other clamped tight around the top of the bag, thereby preventing anyone else from getting any without waking him up and making him cry.

Moment #2: When my aunt was visiting, we were having a family roast dinner. Due to my brother’s age, he only had a small portion, which, as per usual, he finished quickly. He got upset about something, so my dad passed him over the table to my mum so she could calm him down. As he was passed over my aunt’s plate, he reached out and grabbed a large slice of beef off of her plate and began to eat it, now completely content. The whole movement lasted only a couple of seconds.

Moment #3: Later, in the same visit from my aunt, we had visited a beach a couple of hours’ drive away. My brother once again had a packet of crisps, but this time he was less protective and my aunt was able to take one — she put it in her mouth, lay down on her spot of sand, and closed her eyes to relax. My brother, who was just slightly larger than average toddler, walked over to her, prised her mouth open, took the remains of his crisp out of her mouth, and ate it himself before walking back to his original position to finish his crisps. And that is why my brother became exempt from the snack-stealing rule.

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