Fishing For Tramps

| Titusville, FL, USA | Right | May 15, 2014

Customer: “What do I need to fish saltwater for shrimp?”

Me: “Just a saltwater fishing license.”

Customer: “No crawdad or lobster permit?”

Me: “Nope, just the saltwater license for $17.50.”

Customer: “Well what about freshwater? Will I need a tramp stamp for trout?”

(Right after that, he realized what he said. His friend and I were both laughing.)

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Abuse With The Shoes

| England, UK | Right | May 15, 2014

(I work on the children’s department of a shoe store. We ask customers to take a ticket when they come in so everyone can be seen to in the order they arrived. There are three other staff members available to come serve customers if it gets busy.)

Manager: “Can you go check everyone’s ticket numbers and make sure the ticket counter is up to date?”

(There are four sets of customers on the floor. I explain to each that I am checking the numbers to see which order they are to be served in. They all politely show me their number and wait their turn. I’m asking the third customer when the fourth approaches me.)

Me: “I’m just checking the ticket numbers. May I see yours?”

Customer #3: “Of course. Here you—”

Customer #4: “I want this shoe in a five.”

(She proceeds to shove a children’s boot into my hand and stare at me. I don’t see a ticket in her hand or a child with her and assume she just wants to take a pair without fitting.)

Me: “Okay, I’ll call one of my colleagues from the back to get you these as I’m currently sorting out the customers with tickets.”

(She looks angrily at me, grabs the boot, slams it back down on the shelf where she found it and proceeds to storm past me towards the door.)

Customer #4: “This is horrid customer service! You should be ashamed! You’ve lost a customer and you’ve lost a sale!!”

(I stand there speechless and confused then look towards the third customer again.)

Customer #3: “I don’t know what just happened either.”

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Some Customers Will Even Pull Your Hair Out For You

| TX, USA | Right | May 14, 2014

(I am trying to fix the printer on a self-check out machine. I am a girl with long hair pulled back in tight braids and a bun. A loop of hair has snagged on a lag screw on the raised portion of the screen.)

Me: *calling coworker on the phone* “Hey, I got myself stuck in the self-check. Can you come help me?”

Coworker: “Sure.”

(A customer pulls up to her station with a large order. I can’t see her and she can’t see me, so I wait patiently, bent completely over.)

Customer: *walks up to me* “Can you check these out for me?”

(The customer hands me a bunch of bolts.)

Me: “I would be happy to, sir, just as soon as I get unstuck from this machine.”

Customer: “Have you called anyone to help you yet?”

Me: “Yes, sir. She should be here in a moment.”

(There is a very long awkward pause, while the customer just stands there looking at me.)

Customer: “Well….she’s not here yet. I guess I could help ya out.”

Me: “I would appreciate that. Thanks!”

(The customer proceeds to yank violently on my hair. A few strands come completely out of my head. Finally, the loop of hair comes off the lag screw.)

Customer: “There. Will you ring me out now?”

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Not Even Initially Correct

| FL, USA | Working | May 14, 2014

(The owner approaches me with a check that was processed through the register. Every check that is processed has the cashier’s initials on it so that the cashier who processed it can be identified in case something is wrong. It just so happens that my first initial is the same as the owner’s daughter, who also works as a cashier.)

Owner: “[My Name], can you tell me what is wrong with this check?

Me: “That those aren’t my initials?”

Owner: “What? Oh. Very good, then.” *walks away*

No Holding Back

| St. Louis, MO, USA | Right | May 13, 2014

(I work at a popular lingerie store that also sells a line of young women’s clothing. It’s nearly closing time on a Sunday night when a teenage girl and her mother come in.)

Me: “Hi. Welcome to [Store]. What brings you ladies in tonight?”

Mother: “Yes, I called earlier today about a hoodie y’all sell. I was told you had several.”

Me: “Sure, I can help you with that. Which hoodie was it?”

(The mother produces a picture of the hoodie from our website. I recognize it as a style that we have not had for a few days, due to the style’s popularity.)

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. We haven’t had those in for almost a week. The few we did have sold out between yesterday and today. I can order one online for you, though, and you’ll get free shipping right to your house.”

Mother: “This is unacceptable! I called at nine this morning, and the girl told me you had a bunch!”

Me: “Are you sure you called today, ma’am? We don’t open until 11, and nobody was here before 10.”

Mother: “Well, maybe it was 11. I don’t know. But you still should have saved one for me!”

Me: “Did you put one on hold? If so it’s still in our closet.”

Mother: “I don’t know.” *speaking to daughter* “Did you put one on hold?”

Daughter: “Yeah, it should be under Kelly.”

(I check the closet. The hoodie is definitely not there.)

Me: “That’s weird. It should be here.” *to mother* “And you called today, you said?”

Mother: “Well, no. It was my daughter who called.”

Me: *to daughter* “And you called today?”

Daughter: “No, I called Thursday. Maybe, Wednesday. No… I think it must have been Monday. Yeah, Monday.”

Me: “So, you called on Monday? And you put a hoodie on hold? Did they tell you that we only hold merchandise for 24 hours?”

Daughter: “Um, idk, maybe?”

(Yes, she really said ‘idk.’)

Mother: “It shouldn’t matter when she called! You should have held it for her!”

Me: “Well, unfortunately, we don’t have the space to hold product for that long, especially over a weekend. Plus, it’s not really fair to other customers. But, like I said, I can always look online and see if we can get one shipped to you.”

Mother: “No! Go into your back room and find one.”

Me: “I’m really sorry, but we don’t have any more in the stock room; I’ve checked several times today for other customers. I can check again, if you’d like, but you’re going to be disappointed.”

Mother: “GET ME YOUR MANAGER! I’M GOING TO GET YOUR A** FIRED!”

Me: *losing all patience* “Sure, but I’m going to have to ask you to please watch your tone and language.”

Mother: “You little b****! How DARE you speak to me like this? First you sell my daughter’s hoodie to some tramp, I’m sure, and then you refuse to do anything about it. MANAGER! NOW!”

(I radio to the back for my manager.)

Me: “She’ll be out in just a minute. Again, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

Mother: “I bet you are! I drove an hour to come to this store just for this hoodie because you lied to my daughter and told her you had a product you clearly don’t have! This is incorrigible.”

Me: “What’s incorrigible is your attitude right now. I’m very sorry about all this, but your daughter did call our store nearly a week ago about a product. Of course our inventory is going to change between Monday, when we get all our shipment in, and Sunday just before close. If the hoodie was that important, perhaps you should have come out sooner. I can only apologize so many times for something that is outside of my control. Additionally, we are now closed, and have been for several minutes. However, I would still be willing to call another store or order this hoodie online. Alternatively, you could leave and come back at another time, and perhaps we’ll have some in then.”

Mother: “Well, I never! All right, here’s what I want you to do. I’m going to give you my number, and you are going to call me when you get more of these hoodies in. Then, you are going to send me one to my house free of charge. Do you understand me?”

(My manager comes around the corner with a look on her face that clearly indicates she had been listening.)

Manager: “Of course, ma’am. Let me take down your name and number, and I will be sure to talk with my associate about all this.”

(The woman smugly gives my manager her info, then she and the daughter leave. I wait by the registers while my manager pulls and locks our gates.)

Me: “Am I fired?”

Manager: *crumples up paper with the customers info* “Like h*** I’m catering to that b****.”

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