(A woman comes in with a very popular brand of figurines, which is sold at least four stores in our mall.)

Customer: “I was wondering if I could exchange this. My son got two for his birthday. I don’t have a receipt or even know if they bought it here.”

Me: “Unfortunately, we do require a receipt for exchanges.”

Customer: *sounding genuinely surprised* “Really?”

(On the way out she told her son they would go try another store… one that happens to have a big closing, and “final sale” signs everywhere.)

(I work at a fairly large shoe store company where we do a gigantic “buy one, get one half off” sale twice a year. Very often we will have a pair of friends come in; each one gets a pair of shoes, then splits the total. They each pay less than they would have alone for the shoes, even if technically whoever is getting the half-off shoes is paying more than the shoes are actually worth. Usually, people understand this, but sometimes math is hard.)

Customer: “I need to return these shoes.”

Me: “I’d be happy to help with that. So it looks like you will be getting [amount] back today.”

Customer: “But I paid [amount higher].”

Me: “I see you did a split payment for a BOGO sale. You may have paid more, personally, but the amount paid for this item is only [amount].”

Customer: “But I PAID [amount higher]! Why am I not getting [amount higher] back? That’s how much I paid!”

Me: “I’m sorry that this wasn’t explained to you at the time of purchase, but you personally paid more than the price of these shoes. You paid for half the total, not just for your shoes. I can only return the price that was paid for these shoes because the other shoes aren’t being returned.”

Customer: “Where is your manager?”

Me: “I am the manager; that is why I can do a return for you.”

Customer: “The man who sold me this didn’t tell me that! You have to return everything I paid! I am returning my shoes and I want my money!”

Me: “Ma’am, I am returning the price paid for the item being returned. If you want the other $4, your friend has it because they paid less for their shoes with you both splitting the BOGO.”

(The children’s clothing store where I work has a somewhat strict return policy. Without a receipt, we cannot issue a refund or a merchandise credit; we can only exchange the item for a different size. We offer gift receipts to every customer to ensure easier returns. People don’t always take a gift receipt, however, and right after Christmas we get frequent complaints. One lady who is notorious for being rude and difficult comes in to do a return, and of course she has no receipt. She has a couple of small children with her.)

Lady: “I want to return this shirt and get a different one.”

Coworker: “Okay. Do you have your receipt?”

Lady: “No, it was a gift.”

Coworker: *apologetically* “Without a receipt, the only thing I can do is give you the exact same shirt in a different size.”

Lady: *suddenly irate* “But it was a gift from my son’s dad and he already has this one! I don’t need a different size, I need a different shirt!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry. It’s a corporate policy, and we have to follow it. There’s nothing we can do.”

Lady: “This is ridiculous! After all the money I’ve spent here! I’m never shopping in this f****** store again! And I’m going to tell my friends and family not to shop here either!”

(By now, other customers are staring.)

Lady: *in a very dramatic tone* “Come on, [Son], I guess you just aren’t getting a Christmas present this year!”

(Once she was gone, we joked that her “never shopping here again” line was the best news we had heard all day, and that if her friends and family were anything like her we’d rather not deal with them either. We also couldn’t believe she would use her child to try to guilt us into breaking policy.)

(It’s forty years ago and I am working in the men’s department during my senior year in college. A curmudgeonly man drops a load of shirts on the counter and demands a refund. The policy is to collect a great deal of information from the customer, issue a receipt, and have the customer go to the service center to get the actual cash. The shirts are obviously quite old and worn, and the man doesn’t have a receipt. The best I can do is give him $0.99 per shirt. After a bit of a tirade, he decides that is better than nothing.)

Me: *takes out receipt pad* “May I have your name?”

Customer: “I didn’t need to give you my name when I bought these.”

Me: “Yes, sir, but I have to fill out this form to get you your refund.”

Customer: “It’s [Customer].”

Me: “…and your address?”

Customer: “Why do you need to know my address? It doesn’t matter where I live!”

Me: “Yes, sir, but I have to fill out this form to get you your refund.”

Customer: “It’s [Street and number].”

Me: “…and the city?”

Customer: *rolls his eyes as if trying to randomly pick a nearby town* “Fenton.”

Me: “…and the ZIP code?’

Customer: “I don’t know what the ZIP code is! I never mail things to myself!”

Me: “…and your phone number?”

Customer: “Not everyone has a phone.”

(I fill out the form to the best of my ability, and hand it to the customer. He glowers at me for a moment and practically yells:)

Customer: “Well? WHERE’S MY MONEY?”

Me: “If you take this up to the customer service department, they will issue your refund.”

(He storms over to the escalator and begins elbowing people out of the way to get to the top as quickly as he can. I wish I could have followed him, because I knew the customer service department would require that he show a driver’s license or some other official identification to prove who he is and that he lives at his address before they will issue his refund. A few minutes later, as I am about to collect up this guy’s garbage and toss it in our compactor bin, I hear him elbowing his way down the other escalator, with the form I had filled out waving madly in the air. He comes charging over to my counter like some mad bull in a rodeo, snatches up the tattered old shirts that he had obviously been wearing for years, and turns toward the nearest exit. I step directly in front of him.)

Me: “You can have the shirts or the receipt, but you can’t have both.”

(I think that had his hands been free, he may have tried to take a swing at me. As it was, he made a good attempt to crumple up the receipt and throw it at me without dropping his shirts, and stomped out of the store.)

(The company I work for has been around for a few decades, but about two years ago it underwent a name change and rebranding effort. The whole store looks different, to accommodate the name change and new logo, including the outdoor nameplate. The two names are not remotely similar, but the store is in the same location. We also have a 60 day return policy. I am manning the registers when a customer comes in with a bag with the old logo.)

Customer: “Hi, I’d like to return this, please, but I don’t have my receipt.”

Me: “Okay, we can look it up on your card to see if it’ll show up.”

(I haven’t yet seen the bag fully at this point, so I hadn’t noticed the old logo. We try both of his cards, but can’t find any transactions, so I call over my manager to see about getting store credit. Then he puts the items on the counter.)

Manager: “Oh, these are [Old Store Name] bags and barcode labels. We changed name about two years ago, and we have a sixty-day return policy.”

Customer: “Really? I can’t even get in-store credit for them?”

Manager: “Unfortunately, no.”

Customer: “Oh… okay, I guess. Can I leave them up here while I do my shopping?”

(We held the bag up at the front while he shopped, and he ended up only buying a water. I can’t see how he let this stuff sit in his home or car, in the original bag, for well over two years before he finally got around to returning it.)