Don’t Drink The Lemonade!  

, , , | Right | December 29, 2019

(A customer has just given his order and is waiting at the counter as I ready his drinks. Note that it has been a particularly busy day and I have not been able to tidy up my station for a while as we aren’t allowed to when there are customers waiting.)

Customer: “Oh, my God! Is that somebody’s blood?”

(He has exclaimed this with alarm and is pointing towards the end of the counter which is right beside the iced beverage machine. Naturally, I go over to investigate straight away.)

Me: “Sir, that is raspberry flavouring syrup. We use it for our iced lemonades.”

Customer: “Well, it looks really realistic!”

(After he left, I took the time to wipe up that particular spill!)

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This Is Not The Underaged Drinker You Are Looking For

, , , , , | Working | December 27, 2019

It’s worth noting that I have a fairly young face and, although I am 25, I am still a student and tend to hang out at bars frequented by students. I am in a well-known student bar with a group of friends and one of them has brought up the topic of Star Wars. Being quite the nerd, I get into an excited discussion with one of my friends speculating about the new Star Wars movie. While we are talking, a server comes up to take our orders.

My friends go around the table giving their orders. The server doesn’t bother to ID anyone because we are all obviously over 19. The server takes my order and then I dive right back into my discussion on Star Wars.

The server gets about three feet from the table and then stops, turns around, and comes back. She taps me on the shoulder and asks to see my ID. I am a bit bemused, not just because I hardly ever get carded anymore, but because I am pretty obviously the oldest person in the group.

Not wanting to cause trouble, I dig out my driver’s licence and hand it to her. She looks intently at it while I continue my conversation. Then, she hands back my licence and asks me if I have a second piece of ID!

I am having a hard time containing my laughter because the server is probably five years younger than me, at least. But I dutifully pull out my Health Card and show her.

She looks at it, checks that the names match, and gives it back. She grudgingly brings me my drink, but for the rest of the night I keep catching her watching me suspiciously.

I don’t know if she thought I was nervous because of how excitedly I was talking or if she just couldn’t comprehend someone over the age of 18 liking Star Wars. Either way, we all had a good laugh about it and tipped her well for her “diligence.”

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Last Christmas, I Gave You My Water Bottle

, , , , , | Right | December 25, 2019

I am assigned to the Christmas aisle one day; it is the end of November so the aisle constantly looks like a herd of wild animals tore through it and needs a lot of attention. I have a cart with me since, while I’m cleaning up, I also collect damaged products and returns — things people decide they don’t want anymore and set down wherever. I have my beat-up metal water bottle in the child seat.

I get called up to cash to help ring up the big flow of customers, and when it’s died down I go back to the aisle. I notice my water bottle’s gone a little later on, and, having horrendous short term memory, I convince myself that I set it down on a shelf or at the cash during my shift at some point. I scan the aisle top to bottom and I look all around cash and in the break-room with no sign of it. I have a brief thought that a customer moved or took it, but I quickly banish it because what weirdo would take an old metal water bottle with paint peeling off it from a cart full of broken Christmas ornaments and garbage? 

I have to get back to work, so I let my coworkers know to keep an eye out, hoping it will turn up, like most things I lose do, and get back to my duties.

The store closes, and after a half-hour of cleaning and putting returns back, it’s time for me to clock out. For some reason, I cross through the toy aisle, one aisle over from where I had been the whole day, and I see it.

My water bottle is sitting on a shelf, in this aisle that I have not stepped foot in the whole day, with less water in it and a missing lid. 

I obviously throw out since it is useless without the lid, and I tell the story to everyone. I still don’t understand what would possess a person to do that. Were they dying of thirst and didn’t think to either ask to use our bathroom tap or to purchase our 50 cent bottle of water?

I don’t know, man. I spent a good amount of that night convincing myself that I’d done something odd because people don’t take random water bottles they see. 

So, I guess what I’m learning as I come up to six months working in customer service is… don’t give people that much credit.

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Unfiltered Story #180428

, , | Unfiltered | December 25, 2019

(I work in the meat department of my local grocery store. There is a fantastic deal on a certain brand of turkeys but we have sold out. There was some miscommunication between the truck and our store so we were telling customers the turkeys would be in tomorrow when they were actually going to be in the day after tomorrow. I’m working the closing shift on “tomorrow” when an older lady comes in.)
Old Lady: Do you have any more [Brand] turkeys? The butcher yesterday said there would be some in today.
Me: Unfortunately ma’am there was a miscommunication with the truck so the (she cuts me off)
Me: I’m sorry but no. They’ll be in tomor-(cuts me off again)
Old Lady: F*** you, you f******* liar. You’re hiding turkeys in the back. I’m going to [Next town over] and never coming here again.
Me (used to these kind of customers, I kick out my sarcasm): I’m sure [competitor] will still be open by the time you get there. Have a wonderful trip ma’am.
(Guess what, she was back the next day because [competitor] was out and was not getting another shipment)

Not The Sharpie-est Tool In The Box, But A Tool Nonetheless

, , , , , , | Right | December 23, 2019

(I work at the customer service desk at one of the biggest department stores in Ottawa. It’s the night before Christmas Eve, and we closed about ten minutes ago. I have a customer come up to me saying the vending machine near our front doors ate his money. This would not normally be a problem; we would fill out a form, give him money from the till, and he would be on his merry way. The only issue is that he paid by Visa. I go to ask my supervisor what we should do; she just says to give him cash. I go back to the customer.)

Me: “My supervisor said to just give you cash, so just come on over to the desk and I can help you out.”

Customer: “I was checking my Visa statement and it said it took $6.00, which is outrageously expensive for a bottle of pop.”

Me: “My apologies, sir. I’ll give you the money back, and we’ll contact the vendor.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous. I always come to this store and this machine always steals my money. It’s been doing this for twenty years and this store never does anything about it.”

(Our specific location has only existed for about seven years.)

Me: “Unfortunately, we actually can’t do anything about it other than contact the vendor; we can’t even refill it. All I can do is give you your money back and contact the vendor.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous. I’m going to take a Sharpie and write, ‘broken,’ on the f****** thing.”

Me: “I can’t allow you to do that. If you just come over to the desk, I’ll give you your money back.”

Customer: “I’m going to grab a f****** Sharpie.”

(The customer walks away. I walk over to my manager who is watching the doors near the machine.)

Me: “There’s a guy who says he’s going to grab a Sharpie and write on the vending machine.” 

(Our head loss prevention officer — who has apparently been behind me the whole time, and is not a small man by any means — comes up behind me.)

Loss Prevention Officer: “No, he’s not.”

Me: “All right, then. I’ll just get his money ready in case he comes over.”

(I go back to counting my cash. The guy actually does grab a Sharpie, open it, and run towards the machine. Our Loss Prevention Officer stands between the customer and the machine, and then the man goes off on him and tries to attack him. He eventually gives up when the Loss Prevention Officer won’t budge, throws the opened marker on the floor, and storms out… without his money.) 

Loss Prevention Officer: “Maybe we should use the $6 to pay for the marker.”

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