Must Have Just Come From The Dark Side Of The Moon

| CA, USA | Extra Stupid, Theme Of The Month

(I am a customer in a store known for employees wearing uniforms of tan khakis and red polo shirts. I am shopping for just a birthday card when another customer comes up to me.)

Customer: “You! CLEARLY you are a manager here. I’m trying to find some printer paper. Can you help me?”

Me: *looks down at my blue jeans and Pink Floyd t-shirt* “Uh, actually I don’t work here, so I can’t help you.”

Customer: *gives me a blank stare*

Me: “I’m just looking for a card for my mother?” *shows him the cards I’m holding in my hand*

Customer: “Oh! That’s why you don’t have a shopping cart, because you don’t need one for something small like that!”

Me: “…yeah. Good luck finding what you need.”

(Don’t know why no shopping cart + rock band shirt = manager in his mind).

Driving 100 km In Another Man’s Shoes

| Roermond, The Netherlands | Bizarre, Crazy Requests

(I work at the customer service desk in a big outdoor/camping store. One of my jobs is to handle returns. Today, a guy comes in. I greet him.)

Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, hi. I bought shoes here a while ago and they’re damaged. I want new ones.”

Me: “All right. Did you bring the shoes with you? I would like to take a look.”

(The customer nods and bends down. I know what is about to happen and so does my coworker. I can tell she’s about to laugh and she walks away to make sure the customer doesn’t see her. He takes one shoe off his foot and put it on the desk. It’s smelly and feels warm.)

Customer: “There, you see? It’s damaged!”

(I ask to see his receipt and look up the procedure for this particular brand of shoes. As it turns out, I can’t give him new shoes, but instead, I have to send his shoes in for repair.)

Customer: “But how am I supposed to do that? I can’t go home without having shoes on! I need you to give me new shoes and I want a refund for the money I spent on gas! I drove over 100 km to get here!”

(At this point, I notice his t-shirt. It’s a shirt from a local amateur soccer championship in a town very near to where we are. 12 kilometers, tops.)

Me: “No, sir, I am afraid I can’t do that. I would love to send your shoes in for you. It’s no problem if you decide to come in another time. The procedures won’t change.”

(The customer then, angrily, took his shoe back, grunted and moaned, and hopped away on one leg.)

Differing Degrees Of Snobbery

| Memphis, TN, USA | At The Checkout, Extra Stupid, School

(I’m a cashier at a small, high-end grocery store. One day, towards the end of my shift, a middle aged man and a girl, around 11 or 12, walk up. Note that I appear around five years younger than I actually am and took the cashier job out of necessity.)

Me: “That’ll be $25.62, sir.”

Customer: *ignoring the other customers waiting behind him* “Are you in school?”

Me: “I… excuse me?”

Customer: “Are. You. In. School?”

Me: “Well, no, I already—”

Customer: *talking to the girl* “See, this is why you gotta study hard! I don’t want you working some crap job because you didn’t go to college.”

Me: “Um, sir? That’ll be $25.62.”

Customer: *slams $30 into my hand*

(I get his change and hand it to him along with his receipt. As the next person in line starts putting their items onto the counter, he stands in place and starts counting his change.)

Customer: “You shorted me.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. How much did I give you?”

Customer: “This is why you have to work a crap job like this! Because you can’t even count right!”

Me: “Sir, I need to see how much I gave you so I can give you the right amount.”

Customer: “You gave me $4.38.”

Me: “…that’s right. It should be on your receipt.”

Customer: “No, I need a five.”

(I print out another copy of his receipt and show him that his change was correct. He stands there and argues with me, so I call over the manager to talk to him. The conversation takes a while, so when my next customers are done, I stroll over.)

Manager: “I don’t know how else to tell you… that IS the amount you’re owed.”

Customer: “No, it’s basic math! Can’t anyone here do basic math?”

Me: “Here.” *I pull out my phone and show him on its calculator* “It all adds up to $30.”

Customer: “What do you know?! You didn’t even go to school!”

Manager: “I thought you went to [Well Known Private College]?”

Me: “I did. I have a bachelor’s from there.”

Customer: *stunned* “What? How? You’re a kid.”

Me: “I’m 25, sir.”

Customer: “Why didn’t you say so! I guess it’s okay, then.”

(He and the girl finally exit.)

Manager: “…that’s the kind of man who gives his credit card number to a prince of Nigeria.”