A Sure Sign That It’s Going To Be That Kind Of Day

, , , | Right | February 3, 2021

I work as an associate at a shoe store that’s going out of business. Every shoe is discounted at a different percentage depending on the type. I wrote the signs myself so I know what they say and which shoes go with each percentage.

Customer: “Um, these are supposed to be 75% off.”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, but only heels are 75% off.”

Customer: “No, these shoes were under the 75% off sign.”

Me: “I’m sure, but there are other signs above it, too. Each sign tells you which sale applies to which type of shoe.”

Customer: “No! It doesn’t say anything like that! Let me show you.”

I go over to the sign with her and it says exactly what I said it did.

Me: “See, ma’am, it says it right here.”

Customer: “Oh… Well, no one is going to read that, hun.”

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If The Shoe Fits… Just Pray The Mate Does, Too

, , , , | Working | CREDIT: antonbarbone | December 13, 2020

I’m out shopping for running shoes with my mom at the local mall because I have had the same shoes for about a year and they are starting to get small.

We look around at shoes and find a pair that looks the best on me, and we ask for my size. The employee comes back with only one shoe and the box, and we try on the one shoe.

Mom: “Can we try the other shoe, please?”

Employee: “Sorry, store protocol is that you can only try on one shoe.”

My mom looks at me with the most confused face I’ve seen, and we go and pay for the shoes.

Once we pay for the shoes, we turn around the corner to the couch and try on the other shoe. The other shoe is somewhat loose, so we take the shoes back to return them. It’s been about three minutes since we left the store.

The employee glared at us while returning the shoes. We then asked for the same shoes but in half a size down. He realized exactly what we had done, so he gave us the entire box instead of the one shoe. Those fit, so we paid and left.

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This Story Goes Up To Eleven

, , , , | Right | August 31, 2020

I work in an upscale shoe store. A customer walks in with a pair of shoes to return. 

Me: “Okay, sir, was anything wrong with the shoe?”

Customer: “It’s too big.”

Me: “Would you like to try the next size down?”

Customer: “No, I’m an eleven.”

Me: “Sometimes different brands will run a bit—”

Customer: “No, I’ve been buying shoes all my life and I am an eleven.”

Me: “Okay, sir, so, would you like to exchange it for anything else?”

The customer looks around and chooses a few styles he’d like to try on in an eleven. They’re all too big. I offer to measure his foot, to his great offense. I pull out the next shoe in a ten and a half and he still declares that it’s too large.

Me: “That was a ten and a half, sir.”

Customer: “I wear eleven! How about this style? If this one doesn’t fit, then I’ll just have to return those shoes.”

By that time, I’d realized nothing would fit because of his “size.” I had the shoe in an eleven, but to save myself an even bigger headache, I just told him we didn’t have it. I processed the return while he went on about what a shame it was that our shoes didn’t fit him.

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This Mother And Son Are Hardly A Well-Matched Pair

, , , , | Related | August 29, 2020

When I was a stroppy teenager, still not financially independent of my parents, my mother used to accompany me on my shopping trips for clothes. This was consistently one of the most acutely embarrassing experiences of my life because she never understood men, particularly teenage boys.

It was bad enough that every time we were buying trousers for me, she would announce in a strident voice that “he’s rather big in the bot,” but the stupidest ever was shoe shopping.

My mother found one of the ugliest shoes I’d ever seen and decided she was going to buy it for me. She thrust it at a young man who was not much older than me — this was a Saturday, and in those days, practically the entire staff of a shop in our town was school students earning their pocket money — demanding that he find the other one.

The poor guy was already overwhelmed by being one of a very few people in a heaving shop, he was being run ragged, and he was not having a good time of it. He rushed off to find the matching shoe, and when he came back I could see that, while similar in shape and colour, the details were different; the trim was different, the treads were different, etc.

Me: “It’s the wrong shoe.”

Mother: “It’s perfectly adequate; stop fussing.” *To the worker* “We’ll have these, then.”

Me: “But they don’t match; they’re not the same shoe!”

Mother: “They’re close enough, you silly boy. Stop making a fuss and upsetting the staff.”

By this time, the shop worker has noticed that yes, indeed, perhaps the shoes don’t actually match, so he really shouldn’t be selling them as a pair. Overwhelmed as he is, he thrusts the shoes in the direction of a colleague, who happens to be female.

My mother crows in her posh, overbearing Karen voice.

Mother: “Oh, don’t go giving them to a silly girl. Just sell me the shoes!”

Fortunately, the girl is on top of her game and competent, and she asks ME which is the shoe I want.

Me: “I don’t really like either of them, but this one was the one we were getting.”

Female Worker: “Don’t worry; it gets better.”

And she twirled off to go and get the proper mate for the shoe.

I wondered at the time what she meant when she said, “It gets better,” but I got my head round it a few years later, when I finally was able to do my own shopping.

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When You Remember That Staff Are Human, Too

, , | Right | June 4, 2020

On my way to the store’s computers to type in an order — during a very packed Sunday — I come across a customer complaining loudly to my manager.

Customer: “Your employees are so lazy. I’ve been here for an hour and all they do is fiddle around those computers! This is unacceptable!”

In our store, salesmen have to type in the customers’ orders so the guys in the back can bring in what the customers want. Everyone is busy typing in multiple orders from multiple customers.

Manager: “Do not worry. An available salesman should be with you very soon.”

Me: *Right on cue* “Good afternoon! I will attend you!”

Customer: “About time! I can’t believe it took you so long. Y’all should be fired.”

The customer rants and raves without even following me to the display area, while hurling more insults at my coworkers. I am losing my patience as I am already stressed out as it is.


The customer freezes in place and looks at me with a shocked face as if no one has talked to her like that before. After a couple of seconds of recovering:

Customer: “Don’t use that tone with me! I am a customer! I’m going to pay you with my money! I’m not trying to beg for gifts or anything!”

Realizing my mistake but still visibly angry, I give out what may seem like a very sarcastic smile and tone.

Me: “I apologize. Now, as I said… I will attend you.”

Customer: “You know what? I don’t want anything anymore! This store can go to h***.”

The customer stormed out angrily, my manager complimented me for getting rid of her — she was a known bad regular — and I went back to work.

Later, I found out that she came back with her husband, but not one of my coworkers wanted to take her order. One did eventually, but then, it turned out that we had run out of stock for what she wanted!

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