Praying For Good Service

| Georgetown, TX, USA | Working | April 17, 2016

(I have just finished a short consultation with an employee, right next to the door to what I assume is the back area. I am wearing a T-shirt with a stylized praying mantis on it, and the mantis looks vaguely like it is about to hug someone and then eat their face.)

Employee #1: “…so I’d definitely recommend this or this food for your fish.”

Employee #2: *walks out of back area and sees me* “Dude, your shirt is scary.”

Employee #1: *shooing motion* “Dude! Be polite to the customers!”

Me: “Sure is! Thanks!”

Dying To Hold A Puppy

| Minneapolis, MN, USA | Right | April 15, 2016

(I go into a pet store in a mall with my younger sister, who is probably seven. They have puppies and kittens on display.)

Sister: “Can we hold one of the puppies?”

Employee: *sizing us up, realizing we’re siblings and not parent and child* “I’m sorry, little girl, but we can only let you hold the puppies if your mom is here with you.”

Sister: “OUR MOM IS DEAD!”

(She stomped out of the store, dragging me behind her. Our mom was actually not dead and was just shopping a few stores down.)

Customers Without Filters, Part 2

| OH, USA | Right | March 25, 2016

(I work in a pet store where I sometimes deal with filters for fish tanks. They are arranged by brand and tank size, i.e. 20 gallons, 55 gallons. I am occasionally called upon to deduce what type of filter or filter cartridge a customer needs. An old man comes up to me with a filter in a plastic shopping bag.)

Customer: “I need this filter.”

(I proceed to inspect the filter looking for identifying marks, like brand and size. There are absolutely none.)

Me: “Hmm… do you know what brand this is?”

Customer: “Lake… land?”

Me: “That doesn’t sound familiar. We must not carry it. Let’s see if we can find something that’ll fit your tank. What size is it?”

Customer: *points to filter* “That size.”

Me: *utterly nonplussed* “Five… gallons?”

Customer: “I don’t know; it’s that size.” *makes vague gestures of dimension*

Me: “Well, that seems like three to five gallons. We don’t have many filters for something that small, but let’s see what I can find.”

(I walk to the aisle with the filters and pick up the one filter we carry for tanks that small. He looks at it.)

Customer: “This isn’t the same filter.”

Me: “I know, but this is the only one we carry for the size it sounds like your tank is.”

Customer: “But I want THIS filter.”

(He wanders further down the aisle to look at the other filters and I help a few other customers. He walks back up to me.)

Customer: *smugly* “I found the filter. You should really know your merchandise.”

Me: “Oh, you did? Where was it?”

Customer: “There. It’s that brand, but it doesn’t look like those.”

Me: “The smallest size we carry in that brand is 20 gallons, and that’s too big for your tank.”

Customer: “But it’s the same brand.”

Me: “We just don’t have that filter. I showed you the one filter we have that would fit your tank.”

Customer: *very exasperated* “Well, can I special order it?”

(I explain that it’s just not something our store as a whole can do, especially if I don’t even know WHAT KIND of filter it even is!)

Customer: “I don’t like that answer.”

Me: “I’m… sorry? Would you like to talk to a manager?”

Customer: “That’s not a good answer. You should get some more training.”

Me: *I’m so done* “Thank you.”

(We walked off in opposite directions and I was so frustrated I went in the back and kicked a box. For the record I’ve been there over a year and I’m the assistant manager of the dang department! I’m not a wizard!)

 

Flea, You Fools!

| PA, USA | Right | March 25, 2016

Customer: “I need flea medicine.”

Me: “Okay, sir, one second.”

(I grab the key for the flea control case and walk over. I unlock the case.)

Me: “Okay, what do you need?”

Customer: “Flea medicine.”

(I stare blankly at the customer for a moment before gesturing to the case which contains multiple different brands of flea control, all for different sized dogs and cats.)

Me: “Sir, there’s six different brands in here.”

Customer: “Uh….”

Customer’s Wife: “D*****, you can’t do anything yourself!” *to me* “I need a four-pack of [Brand] for an 80-pound dog.”

Me: “Thank you, ma’am!”

Wish You Could Vet The Customers, Part 2

, | Argentina | Right | March 18, 2016

(I am at a pet shop that has as a veterinary clinic in the back, looking for a kennel for my dog. A lady is at the counter complaining to the only employee there, so he can’t come help me, but I’m no hurry, so I wait.)

Lady: “But my dog won’t eat this food. Don’t you have [Brand #1]?”

Employee: “Sorry, ma’am, we only have this [Brand #2].”

Lady: “But he won’t eat it! Is there any way to make him eat it?”

Employee: “He might need time to get used to it.”

Lady: “But even if I give it to him, he won’t eat it!”

(This goes on for about five minutes, with the employee telling her there’s nothing to be done if the dog doesn’t want that food and the lady complaining because they don’t have the brand she always takes and asking if there’s a way to get her dog to eat the food. Finally, the lady changes tactic.)

Lady: “I want to speak with [Vet]. Maybe she’ll know a way to make him eat it.”

Employee: “Sorry, she isn’t here now, but the other doctor is in.”

(The other doctor is a tall, sixty-year-old man with a grey beard who clearly doesn’t appreciate being called from the back to attend to this issue, but he speaks to the lady nonetheless.)

Vet: “What seems to be the problem?”

Lady: “Well, you don’t have [Brand #1], but my dog doesn’t like [Brand #2] and he won’t eat it…”

(Meanwhile, the employee comes to show me the kennels and I pick one. All the time the lady keeps arguing with the vet about ways to make her dog eat the food.)

Vet: *visibly tired of her insistence* “Look, the only way to make him eat it is if you starve him until he has no more choice than to eat it.”

Lady: *she doesn’t seem very happy with this reply, but she takes the dog food to the counter to pay for it* “Are you sure you are a vet? I have never seen you here before.”

Vet: “Yes, ma’am, I have been for forty years. I just stay in the back most of the time.”

Lady: “Why?”

Vet: “Because I’m too old for this s***.”

 

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