Give Them An Inch And They’ll Ask For A Meter

, , , , | Right | April 13, 2019

(I work in a small comic book shop that is on a street that has metered street parking. I am doing my usual daily routine and a car parks outside of the store. Time passes and the meter officer comes around and sees that their meter is expired, waits a moment, and then proceeds to write them a ticket. These are all normal things that happen in this area because people either run out of time or don’t put money in it at all, so I think nothing of it. Then the family comes back, puts their child in the back seat, and then sees their ticket. I look up because the lady is now freaking out at her husband about how they got a ticket. They enter my store.)

Female Customer: “Why did you guys give me a ticket?! I paid!”

(I stare at her for a moment in pure confusion.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t have anything to do with the tickets.”

Female Customer: “We parked right outside your store and had paid the meter behind us! We paid! Take back the ticket!”

Male Customer: “We just made a mistake and paid the wrong meter; there must be something you can do.”

(I’m still massively bewildered that they are coming to me. The woman is angry and yelling at me while the man tries to nicely ask for help.)

Me: “Um… That sucks, but I have nothing to do with the ticket or giving tickets or anything with parking. I just work at this store.”

Female Customer: “Yes! So, you can get rid of the ticket! We were outside your store!”

Me: “I don’t control the parking outside of my store; you’d have to call the number on the meter to try to get help or fight against your ticket.”

Female Customer:What?! Why do I have to call someone! You’re right here!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I seriously have nothing to do with any of the meters or ticketing. I just work at this shop…”

Male Customer: “So, you can’t help us?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry, but there’s a number on the meter.”

Female Customer: “I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! JUST ‘CAUSE WE PAID THE WRONG METER, I NOW HAVE A TICKET THAT I HAVE TO PAY MORE MONEY FOR, AND YOU CAN’T EVEN HELP US OUT?”

Me: “No.”

(Then, in the angriest huff I think she could manage, she pulled her husband out and started yelling more outside my store about how I was no help at all and that this area is ridiculous with our ticketing laws. Then, they drove off after almost hitting an oncoming car. Sometimes, I don’t understand how people don’t understand.)

He’s Been Hood-Winked

, , , , | Right | April 9, 2019

(I’m stocking shelves at the high-end grocery store where I work. There’s a display of items for local high schools for back-to-school, topped with a bust form wearing a hooded sweatshirt. A well-dressed man in his 40s with a local, upper-class accent taps me on the shoulder and points at the bust form.)

Man: “Can you tell me what this is?”

Me: “That’s the mascot for the local high school on the front.”

Man: “No, not on the shirt. This! All this extra fabric!”

(He pinches the hood of the shirt.)

Me: “Oh, that’s the hood, sir.”

Man: “The what?”

Me: “The hood for the sweatshirt. A hood, like goes over your head.”

(I flip the hood up on the shirt to demonstrate. The man walks around the bust form, looking confused.)

Man: “But how would you see? You’d be blind.”

Me: “No, it’s open in the front, sir. It’s just droopy like that because the mannequin has no head. It just goes over your head.”

(The man still looks confused, so I grab a sweatshirt off the pile, pull it on, and put the hood up. He looks at me, confused, then pulls the hood down and back up on me several times.)

Man: “Why would I want this? I don’t understand. Explain this to me.”

Me: “Well, some people just like the way they look. They keep your head warm and they can keep you dry. Right now some people are wearing things with hoods because it is raining.”

(I gesture towards the checkout, where several customers are wearing hooded raincoats. The man looks at them with a look of shock, then shakes his head and walks away. I later see him standing in line at checkout, and he is staring with anger at a mother and child who both have hooded raincoats on. He sees me and steps out of line to come over to me.)

Man: “You can wear a hat.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Man: “You can wear a hat to keep warm or keep dry.”

Me: “Yes, sir, you can.”

Man: “You should.”

Me: “Okay, sir.”

Man: “Wear a hat, not a… er, ‘hood.’”

Me: “Okay, sir.”

(I have no idea how the man made it to his age without ever having experienced any garments with hoods. Especially during cold winters!)

Sick Over A Dollar

, , , , , | Right | January 27, 2019

(At our pharmacy, a particular woman has called in three times this week, asking about her prescription prices and wanting to switch stores, calling us terrible, saying we hate her because we overprice her meds, etc. I had the luck to deal with each phone call. Near closing time, I recognize her voice as I’m checking her out.)

Customer: “Why is my prescription $10? Last time it was $9.”

Me: “It looks like the type of discount card you have says you can only use it six times for this particular medication before it runs out.” *I point out where it’s written on the computer screen, even though I already told her this earlier when she called*

Customer: “Well… well, your $4 list says this should only be $4 for a month’s supply!”

Me: “If you look here, our state has a minimum price on this medication that we can’t go under. Without insurance, we have to charge $10.”

Customer: “You’re a bunch of liars. That’s false advertising. That doesn’t make sense.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I thought we had already talked about this over the phone. That’s something our store can’t change; it’s a state requirement.”

Customer: “You mean I could go to Jersey and get it cheaper?”

Me: “New Jersey’s not on the list, so it’s possible. I know you’ve switched a few of your prescriptions to other stores—“

Customer: “You guys are all snakes. This is ridiculous. It shouldn’t be $10.”

Me: “If you like, I can put the prescription back and you can try to get it filled somewhere else.”

Customer: “NO! I will DIE without my medication TONIGHT.” *this was not a drug that would harm you, even if you stopped taking it for over a week* “I need this NOW. Just give me it.”

Me: *quietly hands her the bag after she’s done throwing her change down on the counter at me*

Customer: “I hope you’re happy. I hope you know you’re scamming me and getting away with it. I could’ve needed that extra dollar. Karma will get you and you’re going to go to Hell.”

(The kicker is she called the next day and complained about me being a b**** and saying I was trying to withhold her medication. The lead pharmacist was on that night, and knew she was the irrational one.)

Unfiltered Story #137201

, , , | Unfiltered | January 27, 2019

(Note: I am an artist and my canvas is shoes. I paint shoes to change the colors, etc..)
Me: Hello what would you need done?
Customer about 17: I need this fixed.
Me: Ok no problem do you want it customized too?
Male Customer: Yes please. I want red and blak etc.. shoe stuff
Me: It is gooing to cost xxx
Male Customer: Wait, so what is a custom?

(I get this question way too much but this particular situaion I found too funny.)

Driving Away Any Tips

, , , , | Working | January 20, 2019

(My girlfriend and I just arrived in Philadelphia. First order of business: getting to our hotel. We head to the first cab in the line, and at first the driver seems all right; he pops the trunk, loads our bags, and asks where we’re heading. That’s about where the professionalism ends. As soon as he sits down, he starts the cab, turns on the meter, and breaks out his phone. The cab sits idle, burning fuel, while he waits for whoever he called to pick up. I consider getting out of the cab and demanding he pop his trunk, but I don’t trust him to notice I’ve even stepped out. Once his friends finally answers, we’re racing off. And I do mean “racing.” This cab has a GPS that notifies drivers if they are speeding, and the only time it stops chirping is when we approach a red light. If we pass stop signs, he most certainly doesn’t care. And at no point does he get off the phone. Thankfully, the cab has seat belts, so we have some peace of mind. As we approach the street our hotel is on, he shifts into the left-most lane and suddenly stops the cab. There are no cars in front of us, and while there is a streetlight, we’re a good two car-lengths shy of it.)

Driver: “Here you are. Fare’s [price].”

Girlfriend: “Where’s our hotel?”

Driver: *points to the building we’re stopped in front of* “It’s right here. This is the restaurant entrance. It’s all connected. The front entrance is further down, and there’s no place to make a U-turn around here.”

(I am tempted to ask why he didn’t take a left turn at the previous intersection — which I later confirmed would have wrapped around the block and easily brought us to the front entrance within about 20 seconds — but following this ride, I am more than happy to get out. I slide out to get the bags, and notice he’s not budging like every other cab driver I’ve ever had would — including himself if we count when we first entered.)

Me: “Would you mind helping with our bags?”

Driver: *shakes his head* “I can’t get out of the cab while it’s on the street.”

(During a more malicious phase in my life, I’d have been tempted to take our bags and run for it just to see how true that was. Instead, after unloading our bags, I do the rational thing.)

Me: “You said it was [Price], right?”

Driver: “Yeah.”

(I don’t remember the exact price, but I remember it required 50 cents exactly. I remember this, because I couldn’t believe my luck. I don’t normally leave my apartment carrying coins unless I’m certain I’ll need them, but on this day I got a soda from a vending machine while waiting for my girlfriend to use the restroom, and I got three quarters in change. Thanks to that soda, I had the means to pay him the exact fare while making it perfectly clear I was deliberately not tipping. And I still learned he could leave the cab while it was on the street, even with the keys still in the ignition, the engine running, and the door wide open. Although, while I was checking us into the hotel, the company informed my girlfriend that was, in fact, something he shouldn’t have done, even if he was displeased with his tip.)

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