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Suffering From Organic Failure

, , , , | Right | April 15, 2014

(I work in a photo lab as well as sales. We often get students from the local college picking up their film and photo paper from us since we give specialty bulk deals to students and teachers. One afternoon, I am working the lab on my own when I spot a customer wandering through the paper aisle. She looks confused and slightly annoyed, so I decide to try and help, as the other salespeople are busy.)

Me: “Hi there! Is there anything I can help you with?”

Customer: “Where do you keep your organic black and white photo paper?”

Me: “I’m sorry, organic photo paper?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “As in… black and white darkroom photo paper that is not chemically treated?”

(I’m confused by this, as photo paper is always chemically treated. Photos are developed in darkrooms through a chemical reaction process.)

Customer: “Yes. I would like to find some for my Photo 101 class I’m taking this fall. Should be a hoot! I’m vegan, which is why I ask.”

Me: *dumbfounded* “Right.”

Customer: “Also, where do you keep…” *checks list* “…darkroom developer and fixer?”

Me: “On your right, the big brown bottles. They’ll be labeled.”

(She walks over and finds them. When she reads the labels, she frowns.)

Customer: “Wait… These have chemicals. I asked for organic ones!”

Me: “You want organic photo developer and fixer?”

Customer: “Yes! Why is that so hard to understand?!”

Me: “Ma’am, I think you’re a bit ahead of the curve on that front. But if you can be the first to develop it, I’ll be the first in line to buy.”


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Bigotry Comes In All Shapes And Sizes

| Right | April 14, 2014

(I work in a store that sells only plus-sized clothing. There are signs about it throughout the store, and the sizing system is clearly different from other stores. A pair of very skinny girls walk in.)

Girl #1: “Whoa, look at all the fat people in here.”

Girl #2: “Dude, shut up.”

Girl #1: “What? I can outrun them if I have to.”

(I approach them before Girl #1 causes any trouble.)

Me: “Hello, ladies. Is there anything in particular I can help you find? Looking for a gift for someone?”

Girl #1: “Yah, where are your leggings?”

Me: “They’re right over here on this rack.”

Girl #1: “What’s this? 1X? 2X?”

Me: “That’s the plus size sizing system.”

Girl #1: “Do I LOOK like I’m OBESE?!”

Me: “I assumed you were in here buying for someone else.”

Girl #2: “[Girl #1], I told you this is a plus-size store.”

Girl #1: “So you don’t have a size two?”

Me: “No. Like your friend said, we only sell plus-sized clothing.”

Girl #1: “This is discrimination against people who actually CARE about their bodies! You should carry NORMAL clothes too!”

(Another customer overhears her little outburst.)

Customer: “You really don’t have to shop here, kid.”

Girl #1: “Well, maybe I wante—”

Customer: “I’m sick of hearing that sort of attitude. I go to any other clothing store, and I can’t find anything that’s my size because I’m too big. There are dozens of stores at this mall that sell your size, but only one the sells mine. Guess what, kiddo? I didn’t CHOOSE to be fat! I have a genetic disorder that causes me to gain weight no matter how much I work out.”

Girl #2: “Come on, let’s just go elsewhere. I’m so sorry for my idiot friend’s behavior.”

Girl #1: “Why are you standing up for them?”

Girl #2: “You know I used to weigh twice what I do now. I worked my a** off to lose over 100 pounds. I don’t see why the f*** we even came in here! I told you we wouldn’t find anything! So cut it with the fat discrimination and let’s go elsewhere, you idiot!”

(Girl #2 came back later to apologize again.)

Unwarranted Unhelpfulness

| Working | April 13, 2014

(My mom is calling a store’s service desk.)

Customer Service Rep: “Hello, service desk.”

Mom: “Hello. We purchased a microwave last July and it died. We’ve contacted the manufacturers and they are sending us a reimbursement check under the manufacturers warranty. What we wanted to know is if the extended warranty that we purchased can be transferred to the new microwave that we are buying.”

Customer Service Rep: “Well the in-store warranty on the microwave is only 90 days and so if it’s within the 90 day period… You will have to call the warranty company.”

Mom: “Okay. What’s the name of the extended warranty company, or, can I have their phone number, please?”

Customer Service Rep: “It is on your service contract.”

Mom: “We did not get a service contract. When we checked out she asked if we wanted the two year extended warranty. We said yes, and she rang it up, and we left the store. She said nothing about a service contract brochure. She did not hand us anything or tell us to go to the service desk.”

Customer Service Rep: “Oh. Well, she should have sent you to the service desk to pick up a service contract.”

Mom: “Well, she didn’t tell us and we didn’t get one. Could you give me the telephone number of the extended warranty company so I can just call them?”

Customer Service Rep: “I don’t know which company that would be. Did you look on the back of your user manual? It has a phone number there.”

Mom: “Yes, I did. We called the phone number and that is the manufacturer’s phone number and not the phone number for the extended warranty. I would like the number for the folks who handle the extended service contract.”

Customer Service Rep: “You were supposed to get an extended warranty when you checked out. They were supposed to send you to the service desk to pick up an extended warranty and then you can call and register with them.”

Mom: “I understand that, but it never happened. She did not send us to the service desk. We did not pick up an extended warranty.” *pause* “A question?”

Customer Service Rep: “Yes?”

Mom: “This is the service desk, correct?”

Customer Service Rep: “Yes, this is the service desk.”

Mom: “Okay. Do you have the extended warranty brochure at the service desk?”

Customer Service Rep: “Yes, I do.”

Mom: “Could you pick one up?”

Customer Service Rep: “Sure.”

Mom: “Could you please read me the telephone number that is on the warranty

brochure?”

Customer Service Rep: “Oh, sure. The number is [number].”

Mom: “Thank you.”

Don’t Know What They’re Playing At

| Working | April 12, 2014

(In the middle of the year, I pre-ordered and paid for a PlayStation 4 for my husband’s Christmas present. Because of my schedule, I asked for pick up the week before Christmas. On the 23rd of December I finally get an email saying it is in store and ready to go.)

Me: “Hi. I’m here to pick up a pre-order. Here’s my receipt.”

Cashier: “Uh-huh. We’re sold out of PlayStations.”

Me: “No, I pre-ordered it. I just got the email saying it was in store this morning? So, I’m here to pick it up.”

Cashier: *still holding my receipt* “Look, it’s a popular console. Maybe you should think ahead next time? I mean, seriously.”

Me: “Excuse me? I want to speak to a manager. Now, please.”

(The cashier huffs, rolls her eyes, and throws my receipt on the counter, and then finally pages for a manager.)

Manager: “What’s up?”

Cashier: “This girl’s looking for a PS4 and demanded to see you when I told her we were sold out.”

Me: “Um, no. I have a pre-order. I can even show you the email on my phone saying it’s ready to be picked up. I asked to see you because your cashier was rude.”

Manager: “Look, we sold them. All of them.”

Me: “Even the pre-orders? Like, my pre-order? That I was told to come and pick up?”

Manager: *shrugs* “Yeah?”

Me: “Are you kidding? I just got the email saying it was here! Look, can you at least try other stores?”

Manager & Cashier: “They’re sold out too.”

Cashier: “Look, next time just be prepared. They’re back ordered till February.”

Me: “Look, I’m not trying to buy one. I am here to pick one up I purchased six months ago!”

Manager: “We sold out. [Cashier] is right. You really should’ve thought ahead.”

(On the plus side, my cousin’s girlfriend, who works at another location of the same store, saw my Facebook update about the situation. She said they had some at her store and put one aside for me. I made her brownies.)

No Longer Requires Baby-Steps

| Related | April 12, 2014

(I am three years old. My mother and I run into someone she knows who is pregnant, and that I had not seen since before she was pregnant.)

Woman: “There’s a baby in my tummy. That’s why it’s so big.”

Me: *in a know-it-all tone* “No, the baby is not in your tummy. It’s in your uterus.”