Kindness Knows No Language Barrier

, , , , , | Hopeless Right | January 10, 2019

I’m a customer in a pharmacy in Berlin, behind an older man. I don’t speak German as I’m just a tourist, but he is very obviously driving the cashier crazy, pointing to everything five times and asking the price, wasting her time by debating the price, raising his voice, and flailing his arms about. Even though I can’t understand a word he is saying, his rudeness is clear! The cashier is doing a great job of staying calm, but he is visibly upsetting her.

When he finally leaves — some five minutes later, only having purchased one thing — I approach the register, smile, and roll my eyes. As she serves me, she chats away about the customer — made obvious from the things she points to while talking — and it’s clear from the relief on her face that she just needs to unload on someone who understands. I smile and nod and laugh when she laughs, and say, “Ja,” a couple of times, and she seems much calmer and happy by the end of the transaction.

Dear cashier, even though I didn’t understand a word you said, our conversation was wonderful and friendly; we both speak the universal language of “hating bad customers”!

Time To Throw Them Some Shade

, , , , , | Working | January 3, 2019

(I have stopped at a chain pharmacy near my home. I need to pick up makeup for my mother. On my last trip, the manager told me he would order the shade I wanted. Today I overhear a new manager explaining to the cashier that the old manager was transferred to try to fix serious problems at another store. The new manager is covering until the old one comes back. The makeup is still not in stock. I select my other items and approach the cashier.)

Cashier: “Did you find everything today?”

Me: “No. [Old Manager] said he was going to try and get some [Brand] makeup in shade 1C. You still don’t have it.”

Cashier: “We have [Brand] makeup.” *wanders over to shelf*

Me: “Yes, but I need shade 1C. You don’t have it.”

Manager: “What seems to be the problem?”

Me: “[Old Manager] was going to try and get [Brand] 1C makeup for me. You still don’t have it.”

Manager: “Oh, I saw that order. I canceled it.”

Me: “Why?”

Manager: “Because we have [Brand] makeup in a lot of shades. We don’t need that one, as well.”

Me: “But he was ordering it especially for me. You even have a space on the shelf for it.”

Manager: *grabs a much darker shade* “We have 4C.”

Me: “Yes, and I’m sure that’s helpful for someone who needs 4C. I need 1C.”

Manager: “So, you don’t want this?”

Me: “No. Can you replace the order for the 1C?”

Manager: “No, I’m not going to stock that. We have plenty of other shades.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll get it at [Competitor], as well as everything else I need.” *turns to leave*

Cashier: “So, you don’t want this?” *points to items I left on the counter*

Me: “No, not anymore.”

Manager: “It’s racial, isn’t it?”

(I stared at him for a second. He’s the same race I am, but [Old Manager] is a minority in my area. I decided it wasn’t worth the effort, so I just walked out without answering. I’m really hoping [Old Manager] comes back soon.)

The Refunder Blunder Was Hers

, , , , | Right | January 2, 2019

(I’m working in a pharmacy, and we are absolutely slammed and understaffed. There is a register up front for people to check out with items if they aren’t picking up a prescription, and it’s a common courtesy to do so, rather than bother a busy technician. A customer approaches the counter with a full cart of items. I tell her I will be with her momentarily and finish counting the prescription. She huffs and sighs audibly while I finish. I approach the counter and smile.)

Me: “Are you picking up a prescription today?”

Customer: *rolling her eyes* “No, I’m not. I just finished shopping and waited a very long time for a lazy employee to finally check me out.”

(It took me all of about thirty seconds to get to her.)

Me: “I’m sorry about your wait, ma’am.”

Customer: “Good. Now check me out.”

(She unloads her entire cart, and it takes about ten minutes to ring everything out. During this time, a sizable line forms behind her. I only have one coworker in the pharmacy, and she is running back and forth helping customers in the drive-thru and drop-off areas, so production has completely stopped.)

Me: “Do you have a rewards card? I can take a phone number, as well.”

Customer: “No, I don’t feel like digging it out. Just finish the transaction.”

Me: “Are you sure? You won’t get the sale prices without it.”

Customer: “DON’T QUESTION ME! JUST FINISH THE TRANSACTION!”

(She mutters something about incompetent employees while I finish her transaction, which comes to over $300. She pays in cash.)

Me: “Thank you. Have a nice night!”

(She takes a minute to look over her receipt, and comes to the conclusion that she’s been cheated.)

Customer: “Why didn’t I get the sale prices?”

Me: “You refused to let me scan your reward card, remember? I told you that you wouldn’t get the sale prices without it.”

Customer: “But I have one! You should have just given me a discount!”

Me: “Ma’am, unfortunately, we have to actually scan it or type in a phone number in order to give you the sale prices.”

Customer: “Well, then, redo it.”

Me: *astonished* “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “Redo the transaction. RIGHT NOW!”

Me: “Ma’am, I would have to refund the entire transaction and re-ring each and every item in order to do that.”

Customer: “Fine. You should have done it correctly to begin with.”

Me: *defeated* “Will you at least step to the back of the line? There are people here who are sick and need their medications.”

Customer: “NO! HOW DARE YOU? I DEMAND THAT YOU TAKE CARE OF ME, NOW!”

(I begin the long process of refunding her, item by item, and re-ringing the transaction. We’ve now been at this register for so long that many customers have given up and left.)

Me: “The total comes to $290. You saved $10 today.”

Customer: “See, now, that wasn’t so difficult, was it? Next time, do it right.”

(She leaves, smirking at the other customers in line as she goes.)

Customer #2: “What in the blue f*** was her problem?”

You Got Blood On Your Hands

, , , , , , , | Right | December 21, 2018

I am a cashier at a pharmacy, and we get a lot of unsavory characters. An older man walks in and comes to my counter to complain about a battery he bought for his blood sugar tester. Since it’s a new battery, I can only conclude that the plastic is still on. Lo and behold, I open it up and the plastic is still on.

He thanks me profusely and I wish him a good day, thinking that he is satisfied and will be on his way. He puts a test strip in the machine and takes his blood sugar at the counter. I ask him to please wait until he gets home. He says, no, no it’s fine; this will only take a minute. I again plead with him not to do it because it is very unsanitary to have blood on or around my counter. He argues with me the whole time, and when he finishes I make sure he puts his test strip in the garbage himself; I hold the can up for him since it’s behind the counter.

He starts to get angry at me, saying that it’s no big deal and I’m being dramatic. In my head I say, yes, I am being dramatic that a total stranger is pricking himself on the finger, squeezing blood on a test strip, and had to be coerced to even dispose of it properly. After he leaves, still upset, I make sure I grab the disinfectant wipes and clean every part of that counter.

Do Hot Flashes Impair Brain Function?

, , , | Right | December 15, 2018

(I’m a cashier at a pharmacy. One day I come into work and the line is halfway around the store. Two of my coworkers have called out, and when I clock in, one of the two cashiers there goes on a lunch break. It’s just me and the manager trying to get everyone rung up as quickly as possible. The phone rings, so I answer while still helping my customer.)

Me: “Hello. This is [Pharmacy]. How may I direct your call?”

Caller #1: “Yes, I’m looking for [Medicine]. It’s for hot flashes.”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, what kind of medicine is it?”

Caller #1: *getting irritated* “It’s called, ‘[MEDICINE].’ It’s for hot flashes!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I mean, is it some kind of painkiller?”

Caller #1: “It’s called, ‘[MEDICINE]’! It’s for hot flashes!”

Me: *still trying to ring up customers and getting annoyed* “Ma’am, we don’t have a section for menopause. I need to know if it’s a painkiller, or a vitamin, or is it in the cold section — something like that.”

Caller #1: “Okay, listen to me. You know what menopause is, right? You know that women have hot flashes, right? It’s called, ‘[MEDICINE]’! Just look for it—”

(I admit I am annoyed. I’m not about to look all over the floor looking for some medicine I’ve never heard of. I hang up on her and finish ringing up my customer. I think that is the end of that… until a couple of hours later, when another customer calls.)

Caller #2: “I’m looking for [Medicine]; it’s for hot flashes.”

(I ask her the same question.)

Caller #2: “It should be in the same area as the birth control or the feminine products.”

(I tell her I’ll send someone to look for it.)

Caller #2: “Thank you. Actually, my sister called earlier, and she spoke to someone who hung up on her.”

Me: “Would you like to speak to a manager, ma’am?”

(She says yes, so I call my manager to speak to her. Meanwhile, my coworker finds her medicine and brings it to the front. She speaks to the woman to confirm it’s the right one. They speak and she hangs up. My manager asks why she hung up and didn’t transfer the call.)

Coworker: “She said she didn’t really need to speak to him anymore. She just wanted to say sorry for her sister’s behavior.”

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