, , , , | Right | June 15, 2021

It is the 1990s. A customer walks up to me to ask about a small CRT tube TV table on wheels.

Customer: “Do you have this in black?”

Me: “Usually, but we’re out of stock in black, we should have some next week or so.”

Customer: “What about this box?”

Me: “It’s not black, it’s brown.”

The box says, “Oak,” but it is a cheap imitation of oak.

Customer: “Okay.” *Walks away*

Five minutes later, he reappears with hate in his eyes, telling me that I lied to him. I really don’t understand what he is talking about. So, he goes to the clean, pristine, factory-sealed box of the “oak” version of the table, opens it, pulls out a plank, and shows it to me.

With an open box, there are going to be about forty customers asking for a discount on that piece of already inexpensive furniture right after this idiot, so I’m not happy.

Customer: *Angrily* “You said this was brown. It’s oak!”

Me: “Didn’t you want black?”

Customer: “Yes!”

Me: “Then what does it matter that I wasn’t precise?”

Customer: “You lied! It isn’t brown, it’s oak.”

Me: “What is oak?”

Customer: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Well, oak is wood, right?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Generally speaking, what color is wood?”

Customer: “Brown!”

Me: “Well, if oak is wood and wood is brown, and you want black…”

Customer: “It’s not brown, it’s oak!”

This particularly idiotic customer left with a profoundly bewildered look on his face.

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I Don’t Work Here; YOU Work Here!

, , , , , | Working | CREDIT: OldManInShower | June 15, 2021

I am a promoter for a company with a wide range of products; I promote their product in another company’s store. I am usually near the front of the store, pitching whatever new products my company has to people as they pass by.

The number of times people have come up and asked me for help is STAGGERING. But most of the time I help, because I usually know more or less where everything in the store is, or I know where to find someone who does.

I am standing in front of the brushware and cleaning section, promoting a spin bucket mop, when a manager walks up to me with this confused-looking old man trailing behind.

Manager: “Where is the laminate floor cleaner?”

Me: “Sorry, I have no clue.”

I have only been here for a week, so I really have no clue.


I am really taken aback by this sudden tirade so I reply super quietly.

Me: “But I work for [Company], not [Store].”


She then looked back at the customer, SIGHED DRAMATICALLY, and walked into the aisle to check for herself. How the h*** could she be so rude to a customer like that? This poor old man followed her like an unloved toddler while she looked through all the cleaning products. Not finding what she was looking for, she told him she would find someone to assist him and then stormed off.

This poor old man was left looking around, all confused, checking back to his shopping list like it would tell him where to go.

Five minutes passed, and I realised that help was not coming from the manager, so he was well and truly abandoned. I went to the promoter for another company and asked him to help, since he had been working there for a month already and was friends with the employees. He called someone to come help, and within seconds, the old man was being led off to another section by an employee.

I later found out the manager works at a desk and has zero clue how the rest of the store works.

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Talking Down To Toxic Males On A Level They Understand

, , , , , | Right | June 14, 2021

In the late 1990s, I work in a popular body care shop during and after college. As a guy, I start off working back stock but eventually move onto the sales floor for more hours. My girlfriend works at the store joined to mine. I usually enjoy being the only guy on the payroll, and I think most of the customers enjoy that, too. MOST of them.

A group of high-school girls enters with boyfriends in tow.

Me: “Hi, everyone, welcome to [Store]. I’m filling shelves back here, but please let me know if you need anything.”

The girls shop for a while, asking questions from time to time. The boys leave to sit outside, clearly bored, but they come back in as I finish ringing out the girlfriends. One boy speaks to his girlfriend as they leave.

Boy: “Glad you’re done. I couldn’t stand watching that [slur] help you.”

Me: *Knowing my manager has my back* “I just got paid for twenty minutes of hanging out with your girlfriend while you sat outside, and now I’ll head back to the stockroom where my own girlfriend is taking her break. I think I came out ahead on this one.”

He did not seem to appreciate the comment, as his friends laughed him out the door.

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“Personal Issues” Apparently Means “Running From The Law”

, , , , | Legal | June 14, 2021

It’s the grand opening of a new store in the chain, about forty miles from my store. All the bigwigs are there, as well as most of the store managers from my district.

I got a text this morning from my manager, asking me to resend an email to the district manager because the system was down when he tried to send it last night.

The email went something like this.

Manager: “I’m taking the weekend off. Having personal issues. Please apply my personal time. If this is a big deal, consider it my two-week notice.”

Thing is, he is due at the new store tomorrow to help with the grand opening. It should be no surprise that the district manager is furious. I get a call from her later that morning saying that [Other Store Manager] will be coming and I am to help him however I can.

Then, things take a new turn.

[Other Store Manager] shows up and asks for the last two months worth of credit signature slips. Surprised, as I only thought he was going to help cover the store, I show him where to find them.

As it turns out, when the manager buys gasoline, he manually enters the credit card number and then scribbles on the slip. I asked him about it last month, and he told me it was a company card from his “other job” that he has permission to use.

Well, apparently, he didn’t have permission.

After [Other Store Manager] gathers all the slips and compares them to a valid slip where the card was scanned by the cardholder, he calls the district manager, who comes in and calls the police.

Turns out [Manager] is on probation for theft and immediately started stealing again as soon as he got this job.

The district manager changes the safe combination and the office PC password and re-keys the security tape box. 

We now have orders to call the police if [Manager] comes into the store. I kind of doubt he will, though, as I suspect that he got wind of something stirring over this and just disappeared — by the barest skin of his teeth, apparently.

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Someone Gave This Man A Gun?!

, , , | Right | June 14, 2021

We’ve recently been getting calls from someone saying their credit card was used at our store, but they’ve never been here. Every time, we give them the corporate customer service number and tell him to call them. After a couple of days of explaining that we can’t do anything at the store, he gets angry. I get another call from him.

Caller: “LISTEN HERE! Someone STOLE my information and spent MY money at YOUR store! It’s YOUR job to fix it! I WILL call the police!”

Me: “Sir, as I said, the corporate office is the only one with the ability to fix it.”

Caller: “WELL, I CALLED THEM! They said to call you!”

Me: “Sir, there is literally nothing I can do to help you other than provide you with their phone number. I am not authorized to do a return of this nature, only corporate.”

Caller: “YOU’RE A F****** LIAR! They said you WOULD put the money back on my card!”

Me: “Sir, if you keep yelling at me and using that language, I will hang up.”

A new email pops up on my system. It’s from Loss Prevention, regarding the situation. They explain that the caller has to contact the card issuer to report fraud, and THEN they can help with returning the money.

Me: “Sir, I have gotten an email from corporate. Before anyone at this company can do anything to help, you have to call whoever your card is through. Until they contact us regarding things, our hands are tied.”

Caller: “No! I’m not calling anyone f****** else! Your s***ty store let someone use my card!”

Me: “There is nothing this store or company will do until you call them.”


Me: “I’m sorry?”

Caller: “I’ll bring my f****** shotgun! I’m not gonna wait and call every g**d*** number in the world to get this fixed!”

Me: “No, sir, you are not.”

Caller: “EXCUSE ME?!”

Me: “Sir, we have caller ID. I’ve used your number to pull up your account. If you’re threatening me, I have your address right here to give to the police.”

Caller: “I… Well… I want my money!”

Me: “Then call your card provider. Do not call this store again. If you show up here demanding your money, I will call the police. If you call and threaten me or anyone else at this store again, we will call the police.”

Caller: “Yes, ma’am.”

He hung up. Luckily, nobody at my store has had to deal with him since.

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