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This… Is… Spyware!

, , , , | Right | December 9, 2008

Customer: “Hi, my son says that I have Spartans on my laptop and I should bring it to you guys.”

Me: “Ma’am? Spartans?”

Customer: “Yes, I called my son at school and told him that screens keep popping up all the time, and he said that I have Spartans.”

Me: “Oh! You mean trojans! That’s a possibility; let me run this analyzer on your laptop real quick and we’ll see what’s going on.”

Customer: “Young man, my son is in college and he says it has Spartans. You just stand here in a little uniform and make minimum wage. I think my son knows what he is talking about.”

Me: “You’re right, ma’am. I was hoping to run a diagnostic and find out that it wasn’t Spartans, but just by looking at the login screen, I can tell that you probably have about 300 of the little guys running around.”

Customer: “300?! Is that bad?”

Me: “It’s horrible. They cram themselves into a bottleneck and kill wave after wave of data, until there is a wall of dead programs blocking any more traffic through your computer.”

Customer: “Oh, that just figures. I’m going to go buy a new computer.”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I think that would be best.”

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One Annoyed Paranoid

, , , | Right | November 19, 2008

(I work at the photo department and am checking out a customer with a “Happy Birthday, Grandson!” birthday card.)

Customer: “Hello… I only have this one birthday card.”

Me: “Okay, that’ll be $3.15. I just need your signature on the line, please.”

(The customer begins to sign her receipt, then pauses. She looks closely at the slip, then looks up at me, angry.)

Customer: “Now how does this know who I am?!”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “It has my name on it! Right here, below the line! I have never shopped here before. Where did you get my information?”

Me: “Ma’am, the information comes from your credit card.”

Customer: “Well!”

(She signs the slip and gives it to me. I put the slip in the register drawer.)

Customer: “And what are you doing with that? It has my information on it. You can’t just keep it!”

Me: “Umm, we have to keep it. That’s how you pay for things…” *register prompts for a zip code* “… and may I get your zip code, please?”

Customer: “Why do you need my address?!”

Me: “Well, American Express needs it. It’s a security measure, and it doesn’t need your whole address, just the zip code.”

Customer: “This is identity theft! Give me back my signature!”

Me: “Um, I promise you, I am not. I can’t open the drawer mid-transaction, but I can call a manager to cancel your transaction.”

Customer: “You aren’t a cashier! How do I even know you work here?!””

Me: “Well, here’s my name tag. And my picture is on the wall.”

Customer: “If you work in the photo department, that could be Photoshopped! You do not work here! I want a manager!”

Me: “Umm, okay…” *calls the manager*

Manager: “What can I help you with today?”

Customer: “This thief is stealing my personal identity!”

Manager: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “I want my signature back! She is asking too many questions!”

Manager: “Okay, I will take it from here. So what is your zip code?”

(My manager takes care of the rest of the transaction. The receipt then prints out…)

Manager: “Here you go! Tell your grandson to have a happy birthday!”

Customer: “AND HOW DO YOU KNOW MY GRANDSON!? YOU PEOPLE STOP AT NOTHING! I AM REPORTING YOU! THIS IS ILLEGAL!” *continues yelling all the way out the door*

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Label Whores

, , , | Right | November 10, 2008

Customer: “I saw in your flier that y’all sell Swarovski crystal beads. Where would I find those?”

Me: “In the beading aisle, ma’am. It’s the third up from the back, and the beads should be at the end nearest the wall.”

Customer: “I already looked there! There aren’t any!”

Me: “Oh, here they are, right here.”

Customer: “Wait… are you sure? Those don’t say Swarovski on them.”

Me: “Yes ma’am, they do, right here.”

Customer: “Show me the ones that say Swarovski on them!”

Me: “These ones right here, ma’am.”

Customer: “No, no, no! The ones that SAY ‘Swarovski’ ON THEM! Not on the cardboard!”

Me: Wait… you want them to say Swarovski on the bead itself?”

Customer: “Yes, of course!”

Me: “Ma’am, these beads are tiny. There wouldn’t be room to write ‘Swarovski’ on them even if they wanted to or could. ”

Customer: “Well, then, why bother?”

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So Much For A Discount

, , , | Right | November 5, 2008

Me: “Hi, is there anything I can help you find today?”

Male Customer: “Well, yeah, I’m trying to get something for my wife. It’s her birthday.”

(He finally decides on a sweater.)

Me: “Okay, now what size would you say your wife is?”

Male Customer: “Um, well, she’s kind of small… maybe about your size. What size are you?”

Me: “Well, I’m a small, so if she’s a similar height and build–”

Male Customer: “She’s about the same size, I guess… except thinner and with bigger boobs.”

Me: “…”

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How Nicknames Are Born, Part 2

, , , | Right | November 3, 2008

Customer: “Hey, can you tell me where the rope is? I’ve been looking all over for it, but can’t seem to find it.”

Me: “Oh, yeah, it’s just over this way.”

(I lead him to the hardware aisle, and halfway down there’s a big sign that says “Ropes” with a picture of a rope on it.)

Me: “Right down there. There’s actually a sign there that says ‘Ropes.'”

Customer: “You’re f***ing douche bag, you know that?!”

Me: *laughs, thinking he’s joking*

Customer: “That was intentional, and I WILL talk to your manager!”

Me: “I apologize–”

Customer: “Anytime you wanna come to my house, you just lemme know, Dingleballs!”

(And from that day forward, my nickname at work was “Dingleballs.”)


This story is part of the Customers-Ignoring-Signs roundup!

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Read the Customers-Ignoring-Signs roundup!

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