Returns From The Dead

, | Pasadena, MD, USA | Right | May 30, 2014

(At the auto parts store I work for we offer free battery charging for any car/truck/boat batteries as long as they do not test bad.)

Customer: “I’d like to get this battery charged please.”

Me: “Okay, let me just test it real quick.”

(This battery looks like crap, but it’s not leaking so I go ahead and test it.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but this battery is not good. It has a bad cell in it. I can’t charge it.”

Customer: “What do you mean it’s bad?! This battery is pretty much new. You need to charge anyway.”

Me: “Not gonna happen. It is actually dangerous if I try to charge this.”

Customer: “I demand you charge this right NOW!”

Me: “No. Your battery is dead; no amount of charging is going to bring it back. You will need to get a replacme—”

Customer: “I SAID, CHARGE IT!”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Well, I demand to—”

Me: “I am the manager. I will NOT charge this battery. It has a bad cell, and there is no way this battery is anywhere near new. Judging by the inch worth of grease around the case and the ungodly level of corrosion on the terminals, I would say this battery is at least 7-8 years old. And If I were to attempt to charge this over sized paperweight, there is a chance it could explode and cause serious damage to the people around it.”

Customer: “But—”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “But—”

Me: “Not happening.”

Customer: “Crap… but I can’t afford a new battery.”

Me: “Look, give me a chance to check the back. We do have a used battery program, and I may have one in stock.”

(I walk in the back and find a used battery that fits the customer’s car.)

Me: “I found this one in the back. Now it is classified as used, but that just means that someone returned a battery with no problems to it, but we can no longer sell it new.”

Customer: *brightens* “Really? How much?”

Me: “$43.”

Customer: “Really? That’s great! I was worried that I was going to have to spend hundreds on a new battery. Thank you so much!” *buys battery and leaves*

Me: *to coworker* “Why do people always demand we bring dead things back to life?”

Coworker: “I don’t know, but let me know when you figure out how to do that.”

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Having The Finale Word

| USA | Working | May 29, 2014

(I’m window-shopping when I see a small row of DVDs of one of my favorite shows. I pick up the newest one, seeing as it’s the last copy on the shelf and it’s a fairly popular show. As a note, the most recent season was split into two parts, A and B. This happens at the checkout.)

Employee: *sees ‘Part 1’ on the DVD case*  “Aren’t you going to pick up part two?”

Me: “I know you guys don’t have it, so I wasn’t going to look for it.”

Employee: “Of course we do! It’s in the TV on DVD section.”

Me: “I know for a fact you don’t. Nobody has it. Can you not pressure me into trying to buy something you don’t have?”

Employee: “Well, how do you know we don’t have it if you’re not even going to look for it?”

Me: “Generally DVDs don’t go on sale until after the season’s finished, and the finale airs tonight.”

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Inventing Inventory Venting

| Moreno Valley, CA, USA | Working | May 28, 2014

(I am hired by a local comic shop, where I buy my comics and role-playing games, to be a part-time employee handling their gaming section. I knew from past experience that the boss there could be a bit of a d***. I work there, three days a week, for several months, increasing the size of their gaming section from about 10% of their income to about 30%. I set up an inventory system, remodel the section, put together a bulletin board for gamers… I rocked it.)

Boss: “I like your new inventory system. There seems to be a lot we don’t carry, though, that you have on this list. Put together a list of what we should order.”

Me: “Okay, easy enough. That’s why I set up the inventory system in the first place.”

(I go through and write up a complete list, with order numbers, and have it ready by the end of the day.)

Me: “Hey, [Boss], here’s that list. I put the most basic stuff first, for the first order, and listed the rest in decreasing order of importance.”

Boss: “Huh? Just order all of it.”

Me: “Uh, no? It’s a lot of stuff. I don’t feel comfortable with that.”

Boss: “Whatever. Fine, I’ll look it over.”

(A week later…)

Me: “Did you look over that order?”

Boss: “No, not yet. I’ll look it over before the next order.”

(This goes on for three weeks. On week four, he comes to me and says:)

Boss: “Hey, I put in that order for you. You can stop bugging me about it.”

Me: “What did you order?”

Boss: “What you put on the list.”

Me: “Which part?”

Boss: “The list you gave me..”

Me: “Uh-oh.”

(The order comes on Thursday, and the UPS guy wheels in three big boxes. We usually only get one.)

Boss: “D***, this is a big order.”

UPS Guy: *laughs* “Yeah, this is only the first part.”

Boss: *looks at me with a quizzical look* “How much did you order?!”

Me: “Not a d*** thing. I told you several times, I wasn’t comfortable putting in the order, and you needed to review it, and only order what you wanted for the first part.”

(By now, the order is in, ten boxes. The invoice shows the cost, several thousand dollars, where we have never had an order go over $500. The boss starts cussing me out.)

Me: “You always complain that no one gives you notice. Well, here’s mine. Get a new guy to handle this, because after today, I am done. I don’t need this from you, or anyone else.”

Boss: “Get out. I don’t want you here. GO AWAY!”

Me: “You know, [Boss], there is awful lot of product here that you have no idea how to stock on the shelf. Why don’t I put it away, and then I will go…”

Boss: “NO! GET OUT!”

Me: “I will stay and put it away, and I will even clock out first, just so the customers don’t have to deal with the mess.”

Boss: “GET THE F*** OUT!”

Me: “Okay.”

(I find out from other employees that he has told them if I am seen in the store, the person on duty will be fired for allowing me in. Meanwhile, I am in every week, and still get my employee discount from everyone. Half of what I put on that list sold out within six months, the rest within the year. Three years later, I am in the store when he walks in. The guy on duty gets pale, remembering that he may just be getting fired.)

Boss: “Hey, [My Name], can we talk? I want to apologize for being such an a**hole about the order thing. I am thinking about opening a store just for gaming, and want you to manage it. I would let you handle the whole thing; I would just be the money guy. You want in?”

(It was an awesome offer, and I hated to turn it down, but I did. As I walked way, I could see that the two employees, and Boss’s brother, were all standing there with their jaws on the floor. They had never seen Boss apologize before…)

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A Sizeable Lack Of Information

| Gaithersburg, MD, USA | Right | May 28, 2014

(On a slow evening, a customer comes in and immediately approaches me at the counter.)

Me: “How are you this evening, ma’am? Is there anything I can help you find?”

Customer: “I’m looking for sweater for my daughter.”

Me: “Okay. What size is she in? And is the sweater for any particular occasion?”

Customer: “Well, she’s petite and slim. Really small for her age.”

Me: “Well, what size shirt does she wear?”

(It’s really hard to sell to a customer when you don’t know what they are shopping for.)

Customer: “She’s petite and small.”

Me: “Well, how old is she?”

Customer: “She is small for her age.”

Me: “I understand that, but if I don’t know what size she is in, I can’t show you what I have available in that size.”

Customer: “She is slender and petite.”

(Giving up, I show her the only sweater I have in stock for girls.)

Me: “Okay. I have this one here. It’s great for the spring time and can be dressed up or down depending on the occasion. The biggest it comes in is a 5T.”

Customer: “Oh, that’s too small.  She’s a size eight.”

(The customer left the store telling me I should’ve known what size she was looking for.)

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Management Concern Is A Car Wreck

| NJ, USA | Working | May 27, 2014

(The manager at my store is typically very friendly and affable, as long as you show up. However, he has a reputation for being extremely unsympathetic to anyone who calls out of their shift, ranging from apathy to outright anger.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. How may I help you?”

Coworker: “Hey, this is [Coworker]. I’m going to be out a few days. I was in a car accident.”

Me: “Oh, no. What happened?”

(She explains that she was rear-ended while at a stop light, which knocked her out into the intersection and caused another car to hit her. She’ll recover fine, but she’s got minor whiplash and some nasty cuts and bruises from shattered glass and getting banged around, and may have some broken bones in her arm. The manager happens to be passing by and I relay the information.)

Manager: “Oh, no! Please let me speak to her?”

Me: “Oh, uh, sure!”

(Surprised at the actual care in his voice, I hand the phone over to him. These are literally the first words out of his mouth.)

Manager: “When are you going to be able to come in?”

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