Sorry Not Sorry

| Awesome Customers, Awesome Workers

(I have come to a department store to return some things I ordered online. I gave myself plenty of time since I know the process is probably a little complicated and this is a busy store. I approach a service desk in the women’s clothing department.)

Employee: “Hello!”

Me: “Hi there! I have a pile of online orders to return. Is this the right place to do that?”

Employee: “Oh. Um… I’m not sure how to do that. This is only my second day. Is it okay if I walk you over to another desk?”

Me: “Sure! No problem. Sorry to be complicated.”

Employee: “Sorry about that. I wish I knew how to help you.”

Me: “It’s fine, no problem. I have plenty of time.”

Employee: “Okay, the desk is right over here. Sorry again.”

Me: “It’s perfectly okay! I totally understand.”

Employee: “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Me: “Look, it’s really fine. I promise. I am not in the least put out. You did fabulously.”

Employee: “Oh! Well… wow. Thank you for being so nice about it!”

Me: “Of course. Like any decent human being with half a brain could be upset about something like that.”

Employee: “Sorry, I’m just not used to people being nice… Everyone else I didn’t know how to help has yelled at me…”

(I do NOT miss working in retail, because of horrible, selfish people who yell at associates for things far beyond their control. I hope that employee had a better day!)

Their Ballooning Criminal Ambitions

| CA, USA | Bizarre, Criminal & Illegal

(My brother opened a tasting room just off a main street in our town. Since he’s the owner, occasionally my parents and I will help out and are doing so when this happens. Note that we have an A frame sign on the sidewalk with a balloon to catch customer’s eyes.)

Mom: “Is he really doing that?”

Me: *I come out of the office* “Doing what?”

Mom: “Someone stole our balloon.”

Me: “Really?”

Mom: “Yeah, he was stealing it for his girlfriend. I saw them running away, and she was holding it.”

Dad: “Let them go. It’s better to have them keep the stupid balloon rather than come back the next day with a brick through your window.”

(We would have given them the balloon if they just asked, but who would be so desperate to steal a balloon?)

No Special Excuses For Bad Behavior

, | MT, Canada | Bad Behavior, Health & Body

(A customer comes in with two five- to nine-year-olds and one that is likely two, in a stroller. Her kids are being s***s and almost breaking things. I approach.)

Me: “Hey, would you mind asking your children to stop? If they damage store property, you’ll have to pay.”

(She scoffs at me and her kids keep at it.)

Me: “Excuse me, I asked you once. Please tell your children to stop.”

(She doesn’t, so I approach her kids. She starts yelling at me.)

Customer: “How dare you ask them to stop! They’re just plastic things!”

(I explain yet again she’d have to pay for damaged property. She starts yelling so I ask her to leave the store if she isn’t going to listen.)

Customer: *freaking out* “What is your boss’s number?! My child is special and he does not understand. How dare you be so rude to ask me, a paying customer, to leave?!”

(We get to the front counter and she starts involving my coworker and other customers. She leaves without getting the number. I step outside to chill. She comes out and says to my face:)

Customer: “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d assume you had autism.”

Already Covered In Enough Trash

| Riverbank, CA, USA | Bad Behavior, Bizarre

(The guys responsible for herding and organizing the carts also empty the garbage cans near the entrance, usually by tying off the bags, putting them in a cart, and wheeling them through the store to the back. It’s not usually a problem, but on this day the bag broke and leaked stinky trash water all over the floor. I was on my hands and knees wiping up the spill when our store operator came over to me to say there was an insistent customer in my department: the lingerie department.)

Me: *wearing rubber gloves obviously soiled with trash remnants* “Hello, sir, how can I help you?”

Customer: “I’m looking for some lingerie for my wife and I want you to help me pick some out.”

Me: “Tell me more about what you’re looking for. A matched set, a nightgown, lace, satin?”

Customer: “Why don’t you tell me what kind of underwear you like?”

Me: “…I’m sorry?”

Customer: “She’s about your size; if you wanted to look real sexy, what would you wear?” *remember: I’m wearing trash-covered rubber gloves*

Me: “Sir, I can point you to different items in the department or help you get another size or color, but I can’t choose an item for you.”

Customer: “C’mon… I just want you to help me find something that would look good on a woman like you!”

Me: “Sir, I’m covered in trash juice and we have a main aisle blocked off waiting for me to clean it. If you need help finding something, you can talk to [Coworker] in the jewelry department.”

(I walked away while he contemplated the 6’2″, 300 lb worker at the jewelry counter. The last I saw of him he was scurrying away from my coworker muttering something about not needing any help.)

Has Some Bag Boy Baggage

, | UT, USA | Bad Behavior, Bigotry

(I have just been operated on to remove a cancerous tumor. It was a minor surgery, but the location of the incision made walking somewhat uncomfortable, so I use a cane for a few weeks. On my way back to the computer department from a break, a woman stops me…)

Customer: *speaking slowly, carefully enunciating every syllable, and condescendingly polite* “Excuse me, young man.”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “Can you find someone to help me? I need to pick up a ROU-ter. It’s a thing for my com-PU-ter.”

Me: “Sure! Do you—”

Customer: “Someone in HERE—” *gestures at the computer department* “—might know about it.”

Me: “Got it. Are you looking for a wired router, wired gigabit, wireless B, wireless G, or wireless N?”

Customer: “Oh. Oh!” *she suddenly speaks normally* “Oh, I’m sorry!” *she gestures to my cane* “I thought… I thought you were, like, just a bag boy or something.”

Me: “Right… Let’s go look at those routers.”

(After that, she was like any other normal customer. I didn’t bother to comment on her ignorant assumptions that using a cane or that having a job as a “bag boy” was an indication of a mental handicap.)

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