(I always ask that cashiers do not bag my small purchases so that the plastic bag does not end up in the trash. I can’t count the number of times this has happened.)
Me: “No bag, please.”
(The cashier places my purchase in a bag.)
Me: “No, I don’t want a bag.”
(The cashier took my purchase out of the bag and then threw the bag in the trash.)
(I am taking an order this morning and the customer orders an iced cafe drink that has a choice of whole or nonfat milk.)
Customer: “Hello. Could I get [iced drink], caramel, please?”
Me: “All right! No problem! And would you like whole or nonfat milk with that?”
Customer: “Uh, extra caramel. Thank you for asking!”
(I just figure she misheard me somehow, and I repeat myself.)
Me: “Of course, ma’am. But would you like whole or nonfat milk in your drink?”
Customer: “What do you mean?”
Me: “With this drink you get a choice between whole or nonfat milk.”
Customer: “Okay.”
Me: “So, which one would you like, ma’am?”
Customer: “Which what?”
(I have a lot of patience, which is a good trait to have with this job, but now it’s starting to run thin.)
Me: “Which kind of milk, ma’am? Whole or nonfat?”
Customer: “I don’t understand what that means.”
(I just quit. I tell her her total and to pull up. She finally pulls up to the window.)
Customer: “This has skim milk, right? I’m lactose intolerant, so I can’t have whole milk.”
(I just stared at her before telling her yes and to have a good day. I literally face-palmed after that one. I probably should have told her that both milks contain lactose, but I don’t think I could take any more of her being there. Plus… we didn’t get any call backs or complaints from that woman.)
(We have a 30-day return policy on all premium electronics. After that, you are out of luck. Normally, our store has an incredibly lenient return policy, so this is the only thing that affects returns and frankly, a lot of stores only have a 30-day return policy on anything so customers shouldn’t be too upset.)
Customer: “I’d like to return this; my daughter didn’t want it.”
Me: “I’m sorry but this is a part of the premium electronic 30-day return policy. It’s going on three months since you purchased this; I can’t return it. Sorry.”
Customer: “So, what, I’m screwed now?! She didn’t want it and you will return it now.”
Me: “I’m sorry, but our system will not even let us attempt to return it at all.”
Customer: “But it’s not even an electronic; there are no batteries.”
Me: “I’m sorry, but it says right on the receipt it is a premium electronic. That is literally the description of it on your receipt.”
(I can sense a fight growing in her and call the manager while she keeps insisting it’s not electronic because there are no batteries. It’s a Fit-Bit accessory.)
Manager: “What seems to be the issue?”
Customer: “She refuses to return this item.”
Me: “She purchased it in a couple of months ago, so there’s nothing I can do.”
Manager: “I’m sorry but this is part of our premium electronics section. There are signs in the department stating our policy and it says on the receipt, too.”
Customer: “Well, that is false advertising and I will be back. Expect a lawsuit; my friend’s a lawyer and I know my rights and this is illegal.”
(She stormed away and I kept telling everybody later how we were going to be sued. I’m guessing her friend certainly isn’t going to work for free as a favor and go up against a multi-million dollar company with the best lawyers money can buy because she waited three months to return something her daughter didn’t want.)
(My sister and I to go to a popular diner. It’s primarily a burger place, but I don’t eat red meat, so I’m careful about reading if I can replace beef patties with veggie patties, etc. The waiter comes to take my order.)
Me: “Can I please have the mushroom burger?”
Waiter: “You know that burger has no meat, right?”
Me: “Yup, that’s why I’m getting it. That will be all for me, thanks.”
(The waiter moves down the table and my sister turns to me with a look of confusion.)
Sister: “Wait, but mushrooms are a meat!”
Me: “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Sister: “Mushrooms are a meat!”
Me: “No. No, they are not.”
Sister: “If they’re not meat, then what are they?”
Me: “A fungus?”
(My sister sits for a minute, thinking, while I and the other girls who heard her stare at her in confusion.)
Sister: “Oh, yeah. They are a fungus, aren’t they?”
(Turns out she briefly thought mushrooms were an animal, and she thought I was breaking my four-year-long pescatarian diet.)
(I work in the same room as twelve other people. My colleague answers the phone:)
Colleague: “Hello. [Company], [Colleague] speaking. How may I help?”
(The caller says something.)
Colleague: “Umm…” *pause* “How may I help you today?”
(The call continues. After she puts the phone down, she has a rather puzzled look on her face.)
Us: “Are you all right?”
Colleague: “Yes, just confused. At the start of the call I said, ‘Hello, [Colleague] speaking,’ and he said, ‘Oh. You must be related to Rebecca Speaking.’”
(A few of us giggle, and others roll their eyes or groan a little at the joke.)
Colleague: “I don’t get it.”
(Don’t worry; we explained it to her once we’d stopped roaring with laughter.)
