Give Them An Inch And They’ll Take A Smile

, , , , , , | Right | January 16, 2018

(I work in a small pet store in London. I’m the manager, so I have a fair amount of discretion when it comes to keeping customers happy. A semi-regular comes in with a broken water bottle that she wants to return.)

Customer: “See here? It’s just snapped, and I only bought it recently. Here’s the receipt.”

Me: “That should be absolutely fine. I actually have some bottles coming in tomorrow and we can do a direct swap.”

(I look at the receipt and see that it’s from two months ago.)

Me: “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, but you bought this in May and our returns policy only extends to 30 days.”

Customer: *suddenly turning nasty* “But it’s not like I used it every day! And you can see it’s snapped; that’s clearly a factory error!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

Customer: *screeching now and heading out the door* “That’s fine; you’ll just never see me again. I’ll never shop here again!”

Me: *panicking slightly* “It’s fine, ma’am; I’m sure I can make an exception in your case!”

Customer: *all smiles again* “Oh, fantastic! Right, so, I’ll see you tomorrow! Bye!”

(She left, leaving me totally surprised by her complete turn around. I looked down at the receipt again and realized it was not even for the same d*** product! Bullied and conned by a little old lady in one transaction!)

No Calling Birds, Either

, , , , , | Working | January 11, 2018

A few Christmases back, I decided to get my wife a bird. She already had a female finch, so I was going to get her a male one of that particular variety so she’d have a breeding pair.

About ten days before Christmas, I go to the big chain pet store in town, purchase the bird, a cage, food, and so forth, and take it to my office to spend the days up until Christmas. When I come into work in the morning, I find the bird dead on the floor of the cage. I take it back to the pet store, explain what happened. The guy says that birds are sometimes fragile, this happens, apologizes, and gives me a new male finch. I take it to my office, clean and sterilize the cage in case there’s something viral, read up more carefully on bird care, install the new little guy, and proceed, enjoying having a bird by my side while I work.

The next morning… dead bird again. I take it back, and the guy is a bit huffy, but gives me another one. I also buy bottled water and a different brand of food, just to be safe. On the way back to the office, I buy one of those smoke detectors that detects carbon monoxide and gas leaks, and at the last minute, decide instead to take it to stay at a neighbor’s house.

The next morning, I get into the office. The detector’s clean. I’m getting to work, and the phone rings. It’s the neighbors. Guess who’s dead? So, I take it back to the store, the guy refunds my money, tells me I’ve run through his entire stock, and icily tells me not to come back, ever. I icily tell him I’m not in the market for near-dead finches.

I get on the phone, and locate a store that has what I need, although forty-five miles away, and go get it. I take the FOURTH finch back to my office, get it set up, and the next morning… LIVE finch! Hooray!

The time passes till Christmas Eve with the finch happily singing in my office, and I take it home. I smuggle it into the house, and give it to one of the kids with sotto voce instructions to hide it in his closet. About an hour later, he comes down to get me, in tears, and leads me up to his room. Pieces of the cage, and an assortment of feathers, is strewn around the room, with a smug cat sitting there and no sign of the finch.

My wife never did get that finch. I guess sometimes it’s inferior merchandise, sometimes it’s a clueless customer, and sometimes, fate just decides somebody’s not going to get a finch for Christmas.

Perhaps The Dogs Knew What They Were Doing

, , , , | Right | January 9, 2018

(A woman comes up to the register and complains about how her dogs’ food isn’t where it should be.)

Me: *trying to sympathize* “Well, we are doing a big reset on our dog food section, and it takes a couple days to take everything down and put it back in its new place. I’m sorry that you had a hard time finding it; next time you come in, it should be where it’s going to stay!”

Customer: “It’s always something here! I’m so tired of the drama in this store!”

Me: “I’m sorry if there was any difficulty with the food.”

Customer: “It’s not just the food! It’s the employees, the other customers, everything! Every time I come here, there’s drama. So, you know what? I’m not coming here anymore!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Customer: *grabs items* “I’m never setting foot in this store again!”

(The customer leaves, but a minute later returns.)

Customer: “My dogs locked my keys in my car! I need someone out here to help me, now!

(The customer goes back outside. [Customer #2] is being rung up.)

Customer #2: “And she says the store has drama?!”

Carted Off To A New Home

, , , , | Hopeless | January 9, 2018

I went to get some supplies at a pet store while they were having a pet adoption event. When I went by the cat cages, the workers were talking about a cat named Morris who was missing. Apparently, he was good at getting the cages open.

I got my supplies and decided to look at the aquariums, and I noticed a huge, fluffy, grey cat sitting on a shelf with the aquarium decorations. A couple with a cart stopped in front of the cat but didn’t notice him, since they were looking at the other side of the aisle. The cat nonchalantly climbed down and sat in the kids’ seat of the cart like he knew exactly what he was doing, and waited for them to turn around. They were surprised when they turned around, but they started petting him, and when I left the store they were filling out the paperwork to adopt him.

Sometimes pets pick their people, instead of the other way around.

Mouse Versus Evil

, | Right | January 5, 2018


(I own a small, local pet shop. We have a variety of small pets, including rodents like rats and mice. We breed all of our animals ourselves, and I personally couldn’t bear knowing they’d be eaten, so I do not sell feeder mice. I do, however, sell a variety of frozen rodents, as big as rabbits. Due to owning the shop, I refuse to sell to certain people if they tell me they’re using my animals as food or they’re going to put them in very incorrect conditions. If they claim they’ll put one in a large cage but try to buy a cage meant for smaller animals, I won’t sell. I’ve just opened up shop when a woman walks in. She seems polite enough, though a little strange. She goes to the mouse section and looks at a cage of female mice.)

Woman: “I want one of these.”

Me: “Ma’am, these are actually female mice. I’d highly suggest getting two, or getting a male if you just want one. Sorry if I’m coming off as rude.”

Woman: “Oh, it’s no bother. I’m just getting one to feed my ball python.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t sell mice to you as feeders.”

Woman: “Uh, actually it’s just a pet.”

Me: “Ma’am, you’ve led me to believe you’re going to feed her to your snake. I can’t sell you any mice, but I can sell you supplies for a pet mouse and you can but your pet mouse somewhere else? I could sell you frozen mice.”

Woman: *huffily* “Well, fine. I don’t want ANYTHING from your rotten store! My baby will only eat live! I’m going to [Chain Pet Store That Takes Horrible Care Of Their Animals]!”

Me: “You’re free to go there, ma’am. Apologies.”

(She storms off. About an hour later, we’re a bit busier and I have two workers working with me. I’m walking around giving people advice and asking if they need help, one coworker is working the register, and my other coworker is cleaning out cages and feeding. A man walks in.)

Man: “Yes, I’ll take one male mouse, please.”

Me: “Okay, sir! Might I suggest this 10-gallon fish tank? I have packs made with everything you need for a mouse. It’s $120 and includes a mouse.”

Man: “I’ll take that.”

(I sell it to the man and he leaves, I think nothing more of it. The next day, the woman triumphantly stomps in, holding printed out pictures with her and a little box.)

Woman: “My snake didn’t like your stupid mouse, but look!”

(She showed me several horrible pictures of her holding the mouse I sold to the man. One was of her dangling it by the tail over boiling water, dangling it by the tail over her dog, the mouse flying through the air while they play catch with it, and the last photo was it swimming in the toilet. She dropped the box in front of me, ranting about how she really showed me. I motioned my coworker over and walked in the back to make a call about animal abuse. When I walked back out, she was still there, and we continued to stall her until the police arrived. She got a short sentence, one month, and had to do community service. She’s banned from owning any rodents and, of course, is banned from my store. She left the box when she was arrested, and what did I find inside? The mouse. He was still alive, though soaking wet, bruised, and a little cut up. I kept him personally, and he’s still alive to this day.)

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