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Your Benjamins Have No Power Here

, , , , , | Right | July 14, 2021

My friend and I recently got into beading and painting, and we’ve made a bunch of little bead animals and small paintings for fun. Our town has several sidewalk sales during the summer where you pay a small fee and get assigned a table, and you can sell whatever you bring.

We decide to sign up and do it for fun. The sale will run for three days, and we are both free, so one can man the table and one can wander around, and if we sell out early, then we just pack up.

We bring a few dollars in change but figure we won’t need much, as our prices are fairly low and rounded to the dollar.

We’ve just “opened” and have only sold to one customer before this guy shows up. He’s dressed up in a full suit, way overdressed for a town sidewalk sale. He scoops up a little beaded keychain, which we are selling for fifty cents, holds it up, and then drops a hundred-dollar bill on the table.

Before I even have a chance to say anything, he points his finger at me.

Customer: “Don’t you dare tell me you don’t have change.”

I laugh, thinking this is a joke, but his face doesn’t budge.

Customer: “Give me my change!”

I glance down at the hundred again, then reach up and yank the keychain out of his hand.

Me: “No sale.”

He seems a little stumped that I’ve just done that, and then he reaches for the basket of keychains again. I’m quicker, and I scoop the basket behind the table.

Me: “I told you, no sale. You want to be rude, you can f*** off.”

He did, scooping up his bill and stomping out. I don’t know if it was some power trip, or if he really wanted change without waiting in line at the bank down the street, but my friend got a good laugh about it when I told him about it later.

A Juicy Complaint

, , , , | Right | July 5, 2021

Customer: “Hey, you get up here!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, how can I help you?”

Customer: “I have a problem with your d*** burger!”

Me: “What seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “My burger is super soggy! Do you have a clear explanation for this?! Do you know why it’s soggy?!”

She shoves the messed-up, soggy burger into my face.

Customer: “I’ll tell you why: your burgers are too juicy!”

Me: “Would you like me to remake the food? How would you like it made?”

Customer: “WELL DONE!”

Coworker: “What’s wrong?”

Me: “Turns out she wants a dry, burnt burger.”

We eventually make the burger the way she wants it and I serve it to her. She takes a bite right in front of me and my coworker’s face.

Me: *Anxiously* “How did we do? Was it good?”

Customer: “FINE!”

Actually, her face didn’t say fine; her face was full of disgust, and she decided to leave, speechless, knowing that she had lost.

Allergic To Common Sense, Part 20

, , , , | Right | June 30, 2021

I work in a fast-casual restaurant that mostly serves soups, salads, and sandwiches. Only cold sandwiches by themselves come with pickles unless they are otherwise requested.

I see a ticket order for a hot sandwich, with a note that says, “No pickles, allergy.” Okay, easy enough. I can follow the allergy protocol. But then, I realize it’s the BBQ sandwich, and our BBQ sauce is vinegar-based, so I need to know if her pickle allergy is to the cucumber or the vinegar. I call the customer up to the counter. I’m not a manager, but my general manager is listening to this conversation while working in our drive-thru.

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am. I see there’s a pickle allergy on your order?”

Customer: “Yes, your cashier said it doesn’t come with pickles, but all sandwiches have to have pickles and I’m just allergic.”

Me: “Okay, ma’am. Just so you know, only our cold sandwiches come with pickles, and this is a hot sandwich. But I’ll do my best to have nothing with pickles touch your food. I do need to ask, though, is the allergy to cucumbers or vinegar?”

Customer: “Just to the whole pickle. It doesn’t matter what part. Just don’t get anything pickle near my food and it’ll be fine.”

Me: “Ma’am, if the problem is with vinegar, then I can no longer in good conscience make you this sandwich as it is, and neither can any of the staff, as our BBQ sauce is completely vinegar-based. So is the allergy to cucumbers or vinegar?”

Customer: “Just make my sandwich with everything on it the way it’s supposed to be and don’t give me a pickle! How hard is that?! I’m not allergic to them at all; I just hate pickle juice making my toasted sandwiches all soggy!”

Me: *Twitches* “I’ll have that ready for you in a minute.”

I turned around to make her food and internally screamed.

Allergic To Common Sense, Part 19
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 18
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 17
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 16
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 15

Read The Smoke Signals

, , , , | Right | June 21, 2021

I work at a famous pretzel place in an outdoor outlet mall. It is Father’s Day weekend and people are crawling all over the mall shopping. Our outlet mall has a no-smoking policy, but people still occasionally walk around the mall smoking in plain sight of mall security.

A man has taken a liking to our storefront and has placed himself against our windows to smoke IN FRONT of a food place. I’m shocked to see such a brazen attempt at a smoke break in front of our shop since many elderly people and children come into our shop and walk around the mall frequently.

I’m currently working with my female area manager, a female coworker, and a male new hire we just got.

Me: “Hey, [Area Manager], I’m pretty sure someone is smoking right outside of our shop.”

Area Manager:Seriously?! That’s a first! I’m going to call security on them.”

She calls security and they come over to talk with the guy. Security leaves him and the man picks up his items and suddenly comes into our shop.

Man: *Angrily* “Thanks for calling the cops on me!”

New Hire: *Happy and energetic* “You’re welcome!”

The area manager also responds, sternly and loudly, drowning out the comment from the new hire.

Area Manager: “You can’t smoke within twenty feet of public areas, buildings, or exits within this mall, sir.”

Man: *Irate and condescending* “Well, there are no signs anywhere telling me that I can’t smoke! And whatever, lady!”

He looks towards the cashier.

Man: “Give me an original pretzel and a cheese dip, to go!”

There’s a sign posted on all of the outlet doors saying that certain activities are prohibited, and guess which one was listed under it? Don’t get mad at us because you can’t read a sign.

Also, bold move to also get a pretzel after you berate us about calling security on you, you crazy customer. Also, round of applause for the new hire’s comment. I almost died laughing during the situation, but I kept it together for the most part over my shock.

No ID, No Idea, Part 44

, , , , , | Right | May 31, 2021

Several years ago, cashiers at the store I worked at had to check signatures on credit cards and have customers sign receipts. If the card wasn’t signed, we had to check ID. If ID didn’t match, we couldn’t accept the card. One night, a lovely woman was trying to purchase around $500 worth of luxury clothing and then tried to pay with a credit card.

Me: “All right, ma’am, since the card isn’t signed, I just have to check it against your ID, please.”

Customer: “Oh, it’s actually my husband’s card; I use it here all the time.”

Me: “Okay, so the names will not match. Per store policy, we cannot accept this card unless he comes in with his ID. Would you like to use another form of payment? Or I can put this on hold if you’d like to call him in?”

Customer: “Excuse me?!”

Me: “Our store policy is that credit cards must be signed or we have to match the customer’s ID to the card. Since the card is unsigned and your ID will not match, I am not allowed to take this card.”

Customer: “We have the same last name! I use it here all the time!”

Me: “Smith is the most common last name in the United States, ma’am. That doesn’t mean anything. Regardless, the first names do not match. I am unable to accept this card. If other cashiers allowed you to use it in the past, they were not following our policy. I could be fired for doing so on such a large purchase.”

Customer: “I demand to speak to your manager!”

I page our manager and she comes over. The lady tries to say some nonsense about how I’m awful at my job and how outraged she is, but I just hold up the unsigned credit card and her (non-matching) ID.

Manager: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but our policy states that we cannot accept this card as payment. Do you have another card you would like to use today?”

Customer: “This is unacceptable! You both decided to publicly humiliate me by refusing to accept my completely valid card! You can keep all this crap because I’m never shopping here again! I used to spend thousands of my hard-earned money here every year!”

As she is screaming at us, she snatched her cards out of my hands and throws them in her purse. Then, she shoves all of her purchases across my counter and onto the floor. Even though I know better, I reply…

Me: “Well… technically it wasn’t your money.”

The lady roar-screams at me like a wild animal and stomps out of the store. My manager smacks me across the back of my head with her paperwork — which is totally fine; we have that sort of work relationship — when the lady is finally gone.

Manager: “You handled that correctly, but next time, keep your smarta** comments to yourself.”

Worth it.

No ID, No Idea, Part 43
No ID, No Idea, Part 42
No ID, No Idea, Part 41
No ID, No Idea, Part 40
No ID, No Idea, Part 39