“It’s Not Fair” Is Fair Game To These Mothers

, , , , | Right | November 12, 2019

(I am browsing with my baby in a children’s consignment store that will buy your old children’s items and sell them there. You sign in at the consignment desk, leave your items, and then the staff will call you with an offer once they get a chance to evaluate them. It is written in bold letters on the sheet that items cannot be left overnight or they will be donated, because the store is absolutely packed already. There is a woman standing at the consignment desk starting to raise her voice at the cashier, so I overhear her.)

Woman: “But it is not fair!”

Cashier: “That is our policy, ma’am. When you signed the sheet here, you agreed to the terms.”

Woman: “But it is not fair! Get me a manager!” 

(The cashier brings the manager.)

Manager: “How can I help you?”

Woman: “I brought big bags to you, lots of good, and they are gone!”

Manager: “Yes, because you left them overnight, so they were donated.”

Customer: “I never agreed to that!”

Manager: “Yes, when you signed here, you agreed to pick up your items that we didn’t accept, or they would be donated.”

Customer: “I did not read that! That is not fair!”

Manager: *slightly annoyed* “Do you always just sign things, or read them?”

Customer: “No! Where are my things? Where do they go?”

Manager: “A lady picks them up to give to a nonprofit–“

Customer: “Then do I get a receipt? Like… like when you give a car, or something? Why were they donated? I should get money; I brought them to sell!”

Manager: *pulls up the customer’s record* “We couldn’t take your items because we had too many. We tried to contact you yesterday to tell you. When you didn’t get back to us, your things were donated this morning.”

Customer: “But… it is not FAIR!”

(Unfortunately, my son decided he’d had enough at that moment so I didn’t get to stick around to see how it ended. I can’t imagine she got anything, though, except a lesson in reading before you sign. The staff are mostly veteran moms used to dealing with tantrums.)

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Unfiltered Story #174576

, , , | Unfiltered | November 3, 2019

( I work as a waiter in a popular “fancy” restaurant. It is my third day on the job. I am currently serving a man and his wife.)
Me: Hello! My name is (My Name), and I will be your server tonight. Our wine of the day is-
Wife: Wait, you serve alcohol? YOU SERVE ALCOHOL? I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW WE ARE AGAINST ALCOHOLIC DRINKS!
Man: Yeah! We demand that you stop serving alcoholic drinks and that you never serve it again.
Me: (Taken aback) Um… It’s not my choice to stop a certain product… You’ll have to talk to the manager or owner…
Man: WHAT THE F**K! WE JUST WANT TO HAVE A NICE MEAL AT A NICE RESTAURANT THAT DOESN’T SELL F*****G ALCOHOL!
Me:… I don’t think there are any nice restaurants that don’t sell alcohol. The only restaurants with no alcohol are some kid ones, but they aren’t very nice.
Woman: OH MY GOD! WHAT DOES IT TAKE?! WHAT DOES IT TAKE TO GO TO A NICE RESTAURANT WITHOUT ALCOHOL?! WHAT?!
Man: WE ARE NEVER RETURNING! F**K YOU! F**K THIS RESTAURANT!
(They both storm out, and I am just dumbfounded. My manager decided to give me a raise for having to deal with that.)

Unfiltered Story #174548

, , , | Unfiltered | October 31, 2019

(Sadly, this happens much more often than you’d expect.)

Costumer: How long until the warranty runs out on (product)?

Me: Um… 1 year…

Costumer: Oh. You guys should put that on the box. Or make a sign.

Me: Uh… We’ve already done both.

Costumer: ( Looks around) Oh.( Walks off)

They’re A McDud  

, , , , , , | Working | October 7, 2019

(I’m the supervisor of a little retail print shop, and the store manager has recently hired a new employee against my better judgement. Her only qualification is that she sometimes uses Photoshop at home. However, her cousin works in a different part of the store as a cashier and put in a good word for her, so the manager assumes it is worth a try. Unfortunately, she can barely function in the role she is given. Despite my many attempts to walk the employee through the basics, even leaving printed directions and the phone numbers of other stores in the chain so that on-duty associates can help her if she gets stuck, she never improves. My store manager even sets her up with some online training courses to complete, to no avail. One day, while I am trying to find a customer’s order form so I can quality check it…)

Me: “Okay, so, up next we have Mr. Mc[Customer]. Let’s pull up his order.”

(I head to the filing cabinet — yeah, this print shop is slightly behind the times — and look for the document under M. There’s no form. Then, I look for it under N and L just in case it was off by one letter on accident. Still no form.)

Me: “[Employee], you filled out a form for this customer’s order, right?”

Employee: “Yes. And I filed it under his name.”

Me: “Can you show me, please?”

(The employee walks over, opens the cabinet, and pulls the form from the C folder.)

Employee: “Under C for ‘Mc[CUSTOMER].’”

Me: “Okay. For future reference, if a customer’s last name starts with ‘Mc,’ ‘Mac,’ ‘O’,’ or similar, that first portion of the last name counts, too. So, you’d file a Mc[Customer] under M, and an O’Sullivan would be filed under O, and so on.”

Employee: “Ooohhhhhhh.”

(Unfortunately, my attempt to explain didn’t help. This sort of conversation was a regular occurrence. I always tried to be super polite when explaining these things to the employee, but there were times I really wanted to lose my temper. She was still working there by the time I quit because the store manager felt too guilty to fire his cashier’s cousin, even though she was still struggling to handle her four-hour shift duties after almost a year on the job.)

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Seeing A Dangerous Pattern Emerging Here

, , , , | Working | September 30, 2019

(I’m an adult woman. My husband and I live in a home which is about 30 years old. The master bathroom upstairs has all original fixtures, so you can imagine they’re starting to look pretty shabby — and not in a “Shabby Chic” sort of way. We decide to remodel. The company we end up hiring to take care of the tub/shower and surround comes in and begins working. After a few hours…)

Me: “Hey, uh, I just looked at the shower liner you have there, and it’s not what we ordered.”

Construction Guy: “YOU SAID IT WAS THE RIGHT ONE!”

Me: “No, you asked me if mine were white, and I said yes. And then you brought in these. Ours are white, but they’re also [completely different pattern].”

Construction Guy: “No! This is not my fault! You said it was the right one!”

(He actually continues to argue with me over it for several minutes! I try explaining differently.)

Me: “Regardless of what you thought I said earlier, this is not what we ordered. Look here on my copy of the order form. See? It says four-inch by four-inch tiles.”

(Incredibly, the man still argues that it is MY fault! Exasperated, I switch tactics again.)

Me: “Okay, but I snapped a photo and texted it to my husband, and he said it’s not the right one!”

Construction Guy: *immediately calm* “Oh. Well, okay. We have to go back to the warehouse, then.”

(He calls his boss and admits over the phone that even though he had read our order form and saw the pattern and style name on our order, he STILL grabbed the flat white liner, anyway. Then, he tries to blame the problem on me AGAIN. While he is waiting for his coworker to go back to the warehouse to grab the right stuff…)

Construction Guy: “So, what do you do for a living?”

Me: “I’m self-employed. I do graphic design, web design, that sort of thing.”

Construction Guy: *condescendingly* “Oh. Well, I could do that, too, if I didn’t have to work in construction.”

Me: “Oh, yeah? Then why aren’t you?”

Construction Guy: “Well, I have to make money. You know. I can’t just stop working and do that.”

(He continues to belittle my line of work until I refuse to talk about it further. Finally, his coworker comes back, they finish the installation, and my husband arrives home in time to see the finished work.)

Husband: “So, why is the faucet leaking?”

Construction Guy: “Oh, that? It’s nothing. Here, I’ll fix it.”

(He dabbed some caulk over the point at which water was leaking. Later, we used the shower for the first time and water came pouring out of the downstairs walls below the shower! Turns out this guy half-a**ed the last of the work, and rather than fixing the leak, he just covered it up! THAT whole fiasco is a story for another day, but suffice to say we will not be using this particular bathroom remodel company ever again.)

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