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The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving

| Right | July 1, 2016

(Most purchases at my store are usually between $100 and $300. The higher purchases are usually for firearms and ammunition. Customers can place any amount they want on our gift cards, but those amounts usually vary between $20 and $100. One day, a customer comes up to my register with a cart full of fishing gear, including two $300 coolers. I ring him up.)

Me: “That’ll be [amount over $1500].”

(He smiles and hands me a gift card. He has a whole stack of them in his hands. I hold out my hand for the rest, but he holds onto the stack. I scan the first card, which takes $250 off his purchase.)

Me: “Okay, you owe [amount over $1250].”

(He smiles and hands me a second card.)

Me: Okay, now you owe [amount over $1000].

(He smiles and hands another card.)

Me: “[Amount over $750].”

(I am gathering a stack of used gift cards on top of my register at this point, and we’re only halfway through the stack still in his hands. He hands me the next card.)

Me: “[Amount over $500].”

(He hands me another card.)

Me: “[Amount over $250].”

(He hands me his second-to-last card.)

Me: “[Amount around $50.]”

(He hands me his last card. By this point, we’re both laughing.)

Me: “And you have [amount around 200] left on this card.” *I hand him his last gift card and a receipt.* “Have a good one!”

License To Be An A**-Hole

| Right | March 30, 2016

(I work the knife display and license-sale counter at a well-known sporting goods store. We are currently having problems with our state-issued fishing and hunting license printer, so there is a huge sign on both accessible sides of the counter informing customers that we cannot sell any licenses at this time. I am currently assisting a young lady who is looking for a knife for her husband’s birthday when a man walks up and strikes the other side of the counter behind me with his fist.)

Me: *turning to him, startled* “I will be right with you, sir.”

Male Customer: “You d***-well had better be. I am not going to wait here all day for service!”

Female Customer: *sensing an issue* “It’s fine if you want to help him first; I am still choosing, anyway.”

Me: *to Male Customer* “Yes, sir, how may I help you today?”

Male Customer: *waving his ID in my face* “Well, this is the license counter, ain’t it? So OBVIOUSLY I want a LICENSE, don’t I?”

Me: *pointing to the poster size sign he is currently standing right in front of* “I apologize, sir, but we cannot issue licenses at this time. The closest license retailer to us is on [Road five minutes away].”

Male Customer: *cramming his wallet back in his pocket* “You just don’t know how to print a f***ing license. Where’s someone else to help?”

Me: “Sir, you can have one issued to you on [Road five minutes away] by [Sister Store] or by [Competitor Store on same road]. We cannot print any licenses at this time. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

Male Customer: “I ain’t goin’ to [Road five minutes away] and I sure as s*** ain’t going to [Sister Store]. Where. Can. I. Get. A license. TODAY?!”

Me: “Sir, the closest place you can get one is [Road five minutes away] at [Sister Store] OR at [Competitor Store on same road].”

Male Customer: “Do you not understand…? Y’know what, NEVER MIND!” *storms away*

Me: “Have a great day!”

Male Customer: *shouting* “F*** YOU!”

Female Customer: *flabbergasted* “Does he know you work around knives? I would cut his balls right off!”

Don’t Give The Customer Ammo To Misbehave

| Right | November 19, 2015

(I work at the gunbar, and one of the things I do is give folks .22 ammo. We have a strict policy over how much we give. I can bestow only 2, 100-round boxes upon them. A father and his kid come by with their shopping cart.)

Father: “Get me some Remington .22.”

Me: *hands him a 100 round box* “Here you go.”

(The father sticks his hand out again with a smug look.)

Me: “Did you want another?”

Father: “Course I want another! I can get them everyday, can’t I?!

Me: “Sorry.” *hands him another* “Usually when people say they want some they imply they want one.”

Father: “Don’t you get an attitude with me! You need to fix your attitude and respect people.”

(My friend/coworker and a few others see this with a shocked looked as he starts leaving.)

Me: “Have the day you deserve.” *fake smile*

Coworker: “What just happened? Why did you say that when he left?”

Me: “Because I’ll let karma sort that s*** out.”

Not Quite The Fastest Bullet In The Barrel

| Right | November 17, 2015

(I work at the firearm counter. We always keep all of our .22 ammunition in a case where our .45 handguns are. Since there’s a .22 “shortage” going on I’ve had quite a few people ask where the .22’s are. Two guys approach me.)

Customer #1: “Where’s y’alls .22?”

Me: “We keep them right over in this case.” *points at .45 case*

Customer #1: “I’m talking about bullets.”

Me: “They’re right here.” *points again*

Customer #1: *talking to me as if I am dumb* “Nooooo, those are guns. I’m looking for bullets!”

Me: “Like I said, right here.” *points again*

Customer #1: “Nooooo! I’m talking about bullets. These are guns.”

Customer #2: “Hey, look, there’s actually .22 ammo in the case.”

Customer #1: *face turns red* “Uh… oh, there is.”

Me: “I take my apologies verbally, sir.”

He’ll Get It Slower Than A Speeding Bullet

, , | Right | October 17, 2015

(I am working the firearm counter at a well known sporting goods store. It is early in the morning, so I’m cleaning the cases when a man approaches.)

Man: “Hey, honey. You got anyone working at these here guns?”

(I assume he thinks I’m maintenance since I’m cleaning.)

Me: “Yes, sir, I am. What can I help with today?”

Man: *guffaw* “No, honey. I need someone who can sell me one’a these here guns.”

Me: “Yes, sir, I am certified to do that. What were you interested in?”

Man: *looks visibly uncomfortable* “You ain’t got nobody else here?”

Me: “No. We usually only have the one person in the morning. Can I help you with something?”

Man: “I need a .22.”

Me: “We have several in stock of different manufacturers.”

Man: “I’m looking for a .22, honey. It’s a rifle.”

Me: *becoming annoyed* “Yes, I know. Which manufacturer or model are you interested in?”

Man: “I’ll just come back by when y’all got someone working who knows what I’m lookin’ fer.”

Me: “Sir, none of our employees are telepathic. If you don’t know what you want, chances are that we won’t either!”