(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.”

(I work in the bakery department for a popular supermarket chain. It is three days before Christmas, so we are naturally busy and a little low on products. As I am refilling a display, a woman comes up to me.)

Me: “Hi! How can I help you today?”

Customer: “Hi. I’m looking for waffles and I know you sell them here; where can I find them?”

Me: “We sure do; they should be right over here.”

(The waffles she is looking for are already sent to us premade and prepackaged, but they are not a popular product, so we don’t get them regularly delivered, and of course, we have just run out of them.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but it appears we don’t have any more. They’ve all been sold.”

Customer: “Oh, well, can’t you check the back to see if you have any left?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I was just in the back a few minutes ago and I didn’t see any.”

Customer: *still in a nice tone but I can see she’s getting annoyed* “Okay, but will you get them in before Christmas?”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry, but no. Our shipment day is after Christmas and because we don’t get them in often, there is a small chance they wouldn’t even be included.”

Customer: *now annoyed* “Well, then, what am I supposed to do? My family has a tradition of eating these on Christmas morning every year!”

Me: “Well, if you’d like, I can direct you towards our baking aisle for waffle ingredients.”

Customer: “No, I don’t want to make the waffles. I want to buy these waffles!”

Me: “Oh. Then I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s nothing I can do.”

Customer: “I guess you just ruined my Christmas, then.”

(I laughed nervously and apologized again for the inconvenience as she left the store without buying anything. For the rest of my shift, I was in a daze after having been told I ruined someone’s Christmas all because of a package of waffles that, in my opinion, looked very stale and unappetizing.)

(This year, Boxing Day falls on a Wednesday, and our local newspaper is delivered on Thursdays. This takes place on the Saturday before Christmas, and therefore not Boxing Day.)

Customer: “Um, actually, that item is [price]!”

Me: “Oh, did you see it that price on the shelf?”

Customer: “No, it was in the flyer!”

(She shoves it in my face and I take it. It looks like the Boxing Day flyer, but before I say anything about it, I look for the date on the flyer.)

Customer: “What are you doing!? I had it open to the item that’s on sale!”

Me: “I’m just looking for the date to be sure, because this looks like the Boxing Day flyer.” *finds the date* “Yup, here it is; it starts on the 26th.”

Customer: “Are you serious? But the flyer is already out; we got it in the paper on Thursday! You’re telling me you’re not going to honour a price from a flyer that’s already out?”

Me: “Um, yes, because it says right on it that it’s for Boxing Day.”

Customer: “Well, maybe you shouldn’t put the flyer out before the sale starts, then!”

Me: “If we did that, you wouldn’t have gotten it until next Thursday, and by then, the sale would be over.”

Customer: “Oh… Yeah… Right…”

This story is part of the Boxing Day roundup!

Read the next Boxing Day roundup story!

Read the Boxing Day roundup!

Our family went out for dinner one evening. As the waitress came to take our order, we could see that she looked like she was having a terrible day. She looked like she was completely exhausted and worn out. She took our orders and left, returning to the table shortly with our drinks orders. My nine-year-old son looked up, gave her a big smile, and said, “Awesome service!”

Her whole face lit up. From then on, we received VIP treatment, everything was perfect, she couldn’t do enough for us. We asked for her name and told her manager the service was great. Every time we went after that, we asked for her, and every time, we got amazing service and big smiles.

Sometimes just a kind word or two can make such a difference.

Related:
From The Mouth Of Babes, Part 12
From The Mouth Of Babes, Part 11
From The Mouth Of Babes, Part 10
From The Mouth Of Babes, Part 9
From The Mouth Of Babes, Part 8

(I’m working as a cashier in this story. We’re soliciting donations for a program the store runs. This conversation happens at the end of a transaction.)

Me: “Would you like to make a small donation to [Program] today?”

Customer: *eyeing me suspiciously* “What is this program?”

Me: “It helps to set up gardens and provide salad bars at schools so kids can have better access to fresh, healthy food.”

Customer: “Do I look like I care about fat kids?”

Me: “Uh, guess not. Have a nice evening, ma’am.”