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Customers Come Back When You Care

, , , , | Working | CREDIT: MotherOfBorzoi | April 24, 2024

I work at a vape shop. An elderly woman comes in one day wanting a different tank.

Woman: “There’s nothing wrong with the one I’m using, but I was pressured into buying it at another shop. The employee there wouldn’t budge on showing me anything else! It’s way too big and powerful for me, and I loathe that. Other than that, I do like the quality.”

She has also brought in a very old model tank with missing glass.

Woman: “If you have replacement glass for this one, I’ll just go back to using it instead.”

Me: “I’ll check. We have tons of glass, but not that exact one, so it’ll take me a hot minute to see if we have a cross-compatible one.”

My coworker entertains her while I search, and I hear her say that she’s going to call her daughter to let her know she’s going to be late. I think she is going to complain that I am taking so long. I am searching as fast as I can, but finding replacement glass is a tedious process when you don’t have the exact one.

Instead, I hear her say:

Woman: “I’m so happy I found a shop where the employees will go above and beyond for me! I’ll be coming here from now on!”

After five or ten minutes of searching, I come back empty-handed, and she opts to just buy a new, smaller tank. As she’s looking through her options, I point out:

Me: “If you like everything about the one you have aside from the size, we have basically the half-sized ‘baby’ version.”

Her face lights up when I pull it out.

Woman: “That’s the one that originally came with mine! It’s the one I was looking for, but I don’t know enough about them to ask for it by name. The only reason I was stuck with the giant version was that I pointed it out at the other shop and said, ‘This is the one I want, only smaller,’ but the guy insisted that only the big ones exist.”

They didn’t even show her how to properly use it. She is dumbfounded at all the new information I am giving her about setting it up and using it. She leaves promising that she will only be stopping by our shop from now on, as will the rest of her family.

She returns today.

Customer: “The tank I bought is leaking. I’m not sure if it’s covered under the warranty.”

I look at the tank, and it is very solid.

Me: “Where is it leaking from?”

Customer: “From the inside. When I try to hit it, I suck up very hot liquid.”

Me: “What wattage have you been running it at?”

Customer: “I’ve been running it about ten watts lower than he recommended wattage. That’s what the guy at the other shop told me to do.”

Me: “That’s why you’re experiencing the hot splattering. You need to run your coils at least at the bare minimum recommended wattage. Otherwise, they’ll heat up the juice, but not enough to vaporize it, so you’ll just be sucking red-hot juice.”

I don’t understand why someone would tell a customer that. It’s baffling.

Close, But No Cigar

, , , | Working | August 23, 2023

I used to work in a smoke shop. A decade or two ago, one kid — over eighteen, all that mattered — came in and asked for an application. He filled it out and handed it back, and then we went into the humidor.

Job Seeker: “I’m thinking of buying something while here. Do you sell Cubans?”

Me: “Since this is the good old USA and it’s after 1962, I have to say no.”

Job Seeker: “Huh, is it true that Cuban cigars are so popular because they have pot in them?” 

He did not get a call back for an interview.

Math Is Your Enemy

, , , , , , | Right | June 5, 2023

A guy walks in while [Coworker] and I are running the smoke shop where we work. He looks at me and points over to our tubs of dip. All he says is, “Longhorn Longcut”.

Me: “Wintergreen or Straight?”

This is a legitimate question, seeing as the large tubs of Longhorn only have Wintergreen or Straight in the long-cut variety.

Customer: “Longhorn Longcut.”

Me: “…Wintergreen or Straight?”

Customer: *Agitated* “Longhorn! Longcut!”

Me: “You want Wintergreen or Straight?”

Customer: “WINTERGREEN!”

I grab what he wants, and he asks for five packs of cigarettes with it. I plop them on the counter, verify it’s what he wants, and go to ring him up.

Me: “Okay, that’s gonna be $35.48.”

He gives me $20.

Me: “…okay, just need another $15.48!”

Customer: “That’s not right.”

Me: “Well, I’ve got a twenty here, so I just need another fifteen more, plus change.”

Customer: “No! The cigarettes are twenty and the dip is, like, fifteen!”

Me: “…yes, sir. $15.48 more, please.”

Seriously, does twenty plus fifteen equal CANTALOUPE to this dude?!

He hands me a five. I tell him I need ten more, PLUS CHANGE. He hands me a ten, and I ask if he has the forty-eight cents in change. He takes it all back and gives me $100.

Customer: “I thought you said it was $35 even.”

Me: “…no, sir.”

I give him his change back and make him watch as I count it, bag his stuff, and stick two receipts in there, just in case.

Once the door shuts and he is gone, I turn to [Coworker] with a “WTF?” look on my face.

Me: “Please tell me he was drunk and not actually that stupid!”

My coworker could only shrug.

Related:
Math Is Your Friend, Part 11
Math Is Your Friend, Part 10
Math Is Your Friend, Part 9
Math Is Your Friend, Part 8
Math Is Your Friend, Part 7


A customer this bad at math is sadly not a special case, as shown in these 10 Hilarious Stories About Customers With Terrible Math!

Choose Your Battles, Part 4

, , , , , , | Right | March 6, 2023

I work in a high-end tobacco store.

Customer: “I want some Cuban cigars. It needs to be a nice set for a gift.”

Our gift sets are quite pricey, so I usually say the following spiel to alleviate any shocks about the price.

Me: “Certainly, sir! We have several fine collections, and every set is made with genuine Cuban tobacco that’s been grown in Cuba for hundreds of years, so you’re guaranteed the very best.”

Customer: “Cuba? These cigars are from Cuba?”

Me: “Well… yes? The Cuban in the name kind of gives it away.”

Customer: “But they’re communists! They tried to invade us once!”

Me: “I… don’t think the invasion part is true, sir. And communist or not they produce the finest cigars in the world, so…”

Customer: “No! Absolutely not! I will not be buying anything from communists, and you should be ashamed about peddling their goods! I would like to speak to your manager!”

I decide this guy is not worth my time, so I call my manager over. The customer is a bit shouty at first, but my manager not only calms him down but manages to actually sell him a set of cigars.

Afterward, I ask what happened.

Manager: “I assured him that the Cuban cigars are made by capitalists so they don’t support communism.”

Me: “Well… okay?”

Manager: “But he still didn’t want a set from Cuba, especially when he saw the price, so I sold him a nice-looking set from China.”

Me: “But, didn’t he say he didn’t want anything from communists?”

Manager: “Do you want to chase him down and explain that to him?”

Point taken! 

Related:
Choose Your Battles, Part 3
Choose Your Battles, Part 2
Choose Your Battles

Careful! He Might Give You A Lethally Ugly Haircut!

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: andrewkelly87 | January 24, 2023

This happened back in 2014 when I managed a small, locally-owned vape shop.

It’s been a long day, and my employee and I are cleaning up to close when the door opens. In walks this guy with a swagger the likes of which I will never forget. He’s clutching a brown paper bag and a small pair of pruning shears, holding these tight to his chest as if his life depends on their safety. As soon as he approaches the glass display cases, my employee and I both look at each other. We know that swagger: meth.

It’s hard to describe to someone who hasn’t been face-to-face with someone like this, but there’s this specific crab-walk they do when looking at things lower than torso height — dramatically bent knees, legs out to the sides, bouncing from side to side like a crustacean on a lethal dose of caffeine. [Guy] is looking through our product cases, crab-walking across them, pointing at random items, and repeating, “WAZZAT?! WAZZAT?! HOWMUCHIZZAT?! GIMMEDAT!”

I know better than to confront these people; they’re volatile and unpredictable. I keep my business face on and try to get through this ordeal as professionally as possible. He chooses a lanyard (for an old-style vape pen, clearly useless for him), and we go to the register. We’re watching this guy’s every little movement. My employee (relatively recently released from prison for, of all things, drug charges) is tense; he’s ready to fight.

And then, the reason for the visit was revealed. I know the hundred-dollar bill is a fake as soon as he pulls it out of the brown paper bag, but I play along and don’t immediately call him out. I do my normal big bill check, holding it up against the light to see a missing watermark and security strip. (We didn’t use counterfeit pens; that’s another story). Of course, it’s a fake.

Me: “Sorry, I can’t take this.” *Hands back the bill*

Guy: “WHY NOT?!”

Me: “It’s a fake.”

Guy: *Visibly enraged* “HOW DO YOU KNOW?!”

Me: “No security features; it’s fake.”

The guy points the pruning shears at me like a knife.

Guy: “YOU WANNA SHOW ME A REAL ONE?!

And that’s when I drop the mask. I break; this is too absurd. I can’t help but laugh in the face of this clearly deranged person. What is he going to do? Trim me and enter me into his neighborhood’s prettiest lawn contest?

Me: *Snorting with laughter* “No?”

He waves the pruning shears around… threateningly? 

Guy: “WELL, YOU’RE A F****** LIAR, THEN!”

He stomped away like a petulant child, kicking over an innocent trash can on his way out the door. We never saw him again, but legends say he’s still trying to get change for that fake Benjamin.