It’s Gonna Be A Long Summer

| NH, USA | Right | February 11, 2017

(I’ve just finished training to be a cashier at this store, and I’m still not able to recognize a lot of the produce on sight. A customer places an order on the belt that includes what I believe to be summer squash, so I ring it up as such. However, when I announce his total the customer squints at the screen behind me that displays his purchases and says:)

Customer: “Oh, wait, I didn’t get any summer squash. There must have been some kind of mistake.”

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry, sir! I’m new here and haven’t really learned all the produce yet. Here, let me fix that for you.”

(After canceling the item, I pulled the produce back out of the bag.)

Me: “Okay, now, would you mind telling me what this really is so I can ring it up correctly?”

Customer: “It’s…some kind of squash.”

Me: “Yes, sir, but what kind is it?”

Customer: “It’s uh, it’s some kind of squash.”

Me: “I know that sir, but what KIND is it?”

Customer: “Um, I’m not sure. Can’t you just ring it up?”

Me: “Sir, we have over twenty kinds of squash for sale in our store, and they are not all priced the same. I need some kind of… kind.”

(I ended up reading him the entire list of squash vegetables that could be rung up by the computer, and none of them rang any bells.)

Customer: *frustrated* “Can’t you just ring it up? It’s some kind of squash!”

Me: “You want to know if I can ring it up as ‘Some Kind Of Squash?'”

Customer: “Yeah!”

Me: “…No.”

(I decide to call a manger over, but before I can the customer leans over to get another look at the squash, which has been sitting on the scanner in front of me the whole time.)

Customer: “Oh, wait! I remember what it is now!”

Me: *excited* “Really?”

Customer: *triumphantly* “Yeah! It’s summer squash!”

Me: “…”

(I mentioned this story to my manager in passing later on, and do you know what he said? “Welcome to customer service.”)

This Job Really Gets You Burnt Out

| Pleasant Hill, CA USA | Working | January 30, 2017

(I’m ringing up a customer when a grab a bottle of bleach to scan and feel something wet hit my hand. When I look down, I see the bottle is leaking badly and has hit my hand and the counter. I call up another employee who is doing float duties and he runs off to get an intact bottle for the customer while I wipe my hand and the counter as best I can with paper towels. The customer goes about their business and I grab a manager.)

Me: “I need to run to the bathroom real quick. I got bleach on my hand.”

Manager #1: “Your ten minute break isn’t for another hour. You’re just going to have to wait.”

Me: “I don’t need ten minutes; I need five, minimum to wash my hand.”

Manager #1: “Well, no one else is scheduled to be here, so you’re just going to have to wait.”

(My hand has begun to start burning painfully, so I’ve had enough.)

Me: “[Manager], I splashed a CORROSIVE CHEMICAL on my hands! I’m not ASKING you if I CAN. I’m TELLING you I’m going to the bathroom, NOW!”

(At which point I spun on my heel and bolted to the bathroom. Another manager is there ahead of me.)

Manager #2: “Hey, what’s the hurry? What happened?”

(I am rinsing my hands off at this point, but explain and show her my mild chemical burn. Manager #2 splashes vinegar from a chemical spill station over my hand to neutralize the chlorine on my skin and then has me wash my hands a few more times.)

Manager #2: “You’re the third employee to get hit with bleach in two days. Two stockroom clerks got spilled on yesterday. I think the shipment came in thin bottles or something.”

(I explain how Manager #1 tried to make me stay at the registers and Manager #2 sighs.)

Manager #2: “I’ll walk you to the registers and go over the procedure for chemical spills with them, again.”

(Needless to say, this and other bad decisions from that manager ensured that I had a very short stint as a cashier at that store.)

Children Of Crime

| UK | Right | January 27, 2017

(It’s busy at work so I decide to hop on a checkout. I have processed a couple of customers when I notice everything on the conveyor belt for my next customer has been opened.)

Me: “Miss, we prefer to have you wait until after purchasing before… eating your shopping.”

Woman: “Oh, my son was hungry. You can’t expect him to sit there quietly when he’s hungry!”

Me: *looking at the toddler in the trolley seat and then at the woman’s shopping* “Sure, but, you gave him whiskey?”

(The woman turned beet red and decided to sprint for the door, leaving her shopping and CHILD behind. She jumped in her car and sped off. We got in touch with the police and while giving statements in the back the woman came back in wearing something completely different and trying to act incognito. We all went down and when she saw the police she tried to do a runner again. I was honestly trying to hold laughter in while the police arrested her for robbery, child neglect, and drunk driving. Her son was smiling and laughing throughout.)

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Scooting Past The Apology

| England, UK | Working | January 11, 2017

(We are shopping in a large retail outlet; we have the kids with us and stop outside a shop to decide where we need to go next. I put my daughter’s scooter down and ask her to hold it to stop it wheeling off. Out of nowhere a very grumpy security guard appears.)

Security: “No scooters!”

Me: “Don’t worry, she isn’t riding it. I’m carrying it for her.”

Security: *almost shouting* “No scooters!” *at my daughter* “You cannot ride them inside!”

Daughter: “But Daddy, I wasn’t on my scooter.”

Me: “That’s fine, honey, you just stand with it. The grumpy man will go away. You are allowed to bring it in with you.”

(He scowls at me, but disappears. We carry on with out shopping before being approached by an even bigger security guard.)

Big Security: “Excuse me, sir.”

Me: “Yes?”

Big Security: “We have had reports of your daughter using her scooter in store. For safety reasons we cannot allow that. One of my colleagues has already told you.”

(By this point my daughter is getting visibly upset.)

Me: “Now, I’m going to interrupt you right there. We have a scooter, but at no point has she ridden it. I have carried it around with me the entire time.”

Big Security: “Well, I’m going to have to check with the security team.”

Me: “Please do.”

(He steps away and talks at length on his radio, before coming back to me.)

Big Security: “Okay, well, the camera crew have confirmed what you were saying.”

Me: “Are you at least going to apologise? I don’t appreciate being spoken to like a naughty child.”

Big Security: “Well, they have to do their job.”

Me: “I get that but there is doing your job and doing it well. He was very abrupt and rude. My daughter was very upset.”

Big Security: “I appreciate that, sir, but the rules have to be adhered to.”

Me: “I agree. The rules posted are scooters cannot be ridden; it actually states that scooter are allowed on site. I suggest you and your team take some time to learn the rules they are enforcing.”

Big Security: “Whatever, sir, please continue with your shopping.”

(His attitude was appalling; he would barely look at me whilst talking to me. I dropped by the management company who were appalled at my findings. The company promoted themselves on customer satisfaction, and apologised profusely. They then forwarded it to the retail management company who again apologised massively, I also had a phone call from them apologizing. Apparently they have had several complaints about these guys treating customers badly. I’ve never had a bad experience since!)

The Story Isn’t Worthy Of The Magazine

| Melbourne, VIC, Australia | Right | January 8, 2017

(I work at a large supermarket chain which releases a new free magazine for customers each month which includes recipes as well as information about new products we sell and promotions we are running. The magazines are very popular and, as each store only gets a certain amount, and there is no limit to how many a customer can take, it’s not uncommon for us to run out before the month is over. This takes place the day the new magazine has come out.)

Customer #1: “I love these magazines! Would it be all right if I took three?”

Me: “You can have as many as you would like!”

Customer #1: “Awesome!” *jokingly* “I like to sell them on the black market!”

Me: *jokingly* “The trick is to wait until we run out, then you’ll make a killing!

(After Customer #1 has left, Customer #2 puts at least ten of the magazines in his bag.)

Customer #2: “I can’t believe idiots pay money for these! I can’t wait to make millions!”

Me: *laughs as I think he’s joking*

Customer #2: “I bet I can get at least $50 per magazine!”

(Out of morbid curiosity I later checked online. It turned out he tried to sell a free magazine online and got no bids. Clearly he thought free magazines would be a hot selling item at $50 plus $10 shipping each.)

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