I was working the close shift alone at a pet supply store, and two women came in about a minute before closing. There was nothing I could say; I just had to wait for them to leave so I could close the store.

Me: “Do you ladies need any help?”

Women: “No, thanks.”

They looked at every collar, leash, and harness possible before finally choosing one of each about thirty minutes later. I worked the open shift the next day, and the women were waiting for me already, demanding to return everything they had just purchased — without a receipt or tags, of course.

I’m the acting service manager at a major supermarket. It’s 3:00 pm on a busy Friday afternoon and I’m attending to the customer service desk. A lady walks up and I can tell by the look on her face that this is not going to be great.

Me: “Can I help you?”

Customer: “Yes! I came through before and bought this banana and the stupid girl charged me twice.”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. Let me fix it for you.”

I take her receipt and scan it to do the refund.

Customer: “Don’t you guys ever answer your phone? I’ve rung six times to try and sort this. Now I’ve had to waste my fuel and come all the way down here!”

Me: “I’m really sorry, madam, but it’s down to us here at the service desk to answer the phone and it’s been a really busy afternoon, so I haven’t been able to answer the phone.”

Customer: “Hmph… ridiculous!”

Me: “I’m really sorry about the hassle. Here’s your refund. Have a nice day.”

The customer snatched the money and stomped off. The total amount of her double-charge refund? Forty-five cents! Lady, the cost of the phone call and fuel would be more than that refund!

Related:
Refunder Blunder, Part 57
Refunder Blunder, Part 56
Refunder Blunder, Part 55
Refunder Blunder, Part 54
Refunder Blunder, Part 53

I’m working in a grocery store. A lady waits until I finish ringing up and bagging all her groceries and then asks:

Customer: “Can I get a refund if I don’t like how the food tastes?”

Me: “No. We only do returns if the actual product is damaged or spoiled. Otherwise, our particular store only does exchanges. Even so, we wouldn’t take back opened food just because you don’t like the taste.”

Customer: “So, if I pay cash money for this stuff, you’re telling me I can’t get my money back?”

I assume this is the standard everywhere, so I don’t understand why she is mad.

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “Then I don’t want any of this.”

And she turned and walked out. My manager had to re-shop it all.

We get a new manager in our little section of a certain magical kingdom. He has been with the company for several years and has previously worked at table service restaurants at some of the swankier hotels.

There’s an unruly guest at one of the registers next to mine. The guest came up and told [Coworker] that our custodians had thrown away three trays of her food, and she wanted it replaced. That, to both me and her, immediately sent up a red flag. At a park as busy as ours, NO ONE would leave a table full of food unattended for any amount of time.

Coworker: “Do you have the receipt for your order?”

Guest: “My sister took it on a ride with her.”

Again, red flag.

Coworker: “Okay, how was the meal paid for?”

Guest: “I don’t know; my dad paid for it.”

Coworker: “Then I’m afraid we can’t replace the food.”

The guest throws an absolute fit and [Coworker] has to go get the manager. The manager steps forward to address the situation.

Manager: “Yes, I’m the manager here. How may I help you?”

Guest: “Yes, I was here, and the cleaners threw away three trays worth of food, and the girl that was here earlier was giving me a hard time about getting it replaced.” 

Manager: “Okay, do you have a receipt?”

Guest: “No, my sister has it on a ride.”

Manager: *Looking a little doubtful* “Okay, do you know which register your ordered from?”

Guest: “No, my dad did it.”

Manager: “Okay, well, I need some information so we can replace your order properly, so, which ride is your sister on? Or, perhaps you can go get your dad?”

Guest: “Really? Can I speak to the real manager?”

Manager: “I am the manager, and I’d be happy to help you.”

Guest: “But it’s just food. Our food got thrown away and we need it replaced, and we’ve already had a long wait and a hard time with the other girl, so will you just replace it?”

Manager: “At this point, without a receipt, no, I cannot.”

Guest: “My brothers and sisters are starving! I thought this was [Theme Park], where dreams come true and magic happens!”

Manager: “So starving they went back on the rides, to wait in line for at least another hour before eating? Please come back with the receipt and your father, because at this point, the magic can’t happen.”

The guest sputtered for a few seconds and then stormed off in a huff. She never returned.

I have been working at a local Chinese takeout for the past year. If we had a manager, I would be a manager, but our chain of command is: boss man, then top cashier, and then cashiers, drivers, and cooks. This means I’m regularly tasked with things a manager would handle, such as training, supply orders such as utensils and sauces, and most notably, handling all refunds.

It’s a pretty slow evening on my 5:00 to 11:30 pm shift when a customer calls to place a delivery order. All is going well until I inform him of our standard delivery time: forty-five minutes to an hour. Well, he will not have this!

Customer: “Cancel my order! Too long!”

Me: “Sure thing! Just to clarify, since you had us charge you for your delivery ahead of time, it will be a couple of business days before it actually reflects on your account.”

This is where all h*** breaks loose.

The customer does not simply demand his money back.

Customer: *Screaming* “I will be down immediately, and you will be handing me money from the register.”

He hangs up as I mentally prepare for his assumed arrival.

He arrives fifteen to thirty minutes after our “friendly chat” and is still just as “friendly”! He again demands his money, so I attempt one last time to explain that his money is indeed on its way to his account, but to no avail.

In earshot of all our waiting customers, the customer dials 911.

Customer: “I’d like to report a theft at [Restaurant].”

Of course, the cops speed over — we sit very close to the local police station — and the customer gets to them first, so I let them chat. A cop then comes to me, explaining that he knows the issue now and doesn’t need further assistance! I see him go over to the customer once more, some words are exchanged, and out the door the customer goes, no register money in tow, thankfully.

Not too dramatic of an ending, but the kicker? The cop comes back to me one last time.

Cop: “You wouldn’t believe how many grown adults don’t understand how refunds work.”

Actually, Officer, I BELIEVE YOU!

That customer has yet to be seen or heard from again, and this was approximately six months ago. Victory!