You Can’t Sweep That Reaction Under The Carpet

, , , , | Right | December 10, 2018

(It is one of my first days working at a discount store. I am cleaning when a woman, about 45, approaches me.)

Woman: “Hey, you!”

Me: “Hello there. How may I help you?”

Woman: *holding a small carpet* “Sorry to bother you, but I need to know how much this carpet costs.”

Me: “All right! Just show me where you found it.”

(She shows me where the carpet was; right next to the carpet is a huge sign with the price.)

Me: “Oh, you can see the price right next to it, and it’s even on sale!”

Woman: *looks at me as if I just murdered her family and starts to scream* “I don’t f****** trust you! You don’t know anything about carpets!”

Me: “Well, that’s the price of the carpet. What more would you like to know about it, then?”

Woman: “Nothing, you piece of s***! You know nothing! Get me a woman here who knows about carpets and stuff! Men know nothing about household items! And they will never help out! Just sit on their lazy a**es on the couch all day. I don’t trust men!”

Me: “All right! Have a nice day!”

Woman: *inaudible screaming and cursing*

Setting A Wonderful Example To Her Grandchildren

, , , , | Right | December 9, 2018

(I am 21 and one of the managers at a supermarket. I have just gotten off my shift, changed into my normal clothes, and gone into the store to buy some things I need. I notice one of our regulars, a middle-aged woman. She has two of her young grandchildren with her. In the corner of my eye, I see her grab a pallet jack and begin pushing around her grandchildren on it.)

Me: *too shocked to realise that I’m not in my normal clothes* “I’m sorry, but you can’t use the pallet jack to play with.”

Customer: *visibly angry* “Excuse you?!”

Me: *realising I’m in my normal clothes* “Oh, I’m so sorry, but I work here, and I’m afraid I can’t let you use that pallet jack to play with. It’s not safe for children.”

Customer: “I’ll have you know that I have nine grandchildren, little girl.”

Me: “Congratulations! That must be amazing, but I’m still going to take that pallet jack to the back storage. It shouldn’t have been out here in the first place, and I apologise for that.”

(She just gives me a vicious look as I take the pallet jack from her and take it into the storage. Further into the store, the customer walks by me again.)

Customer: *loudly, to her grandchildren* “Look! There she is, the poor little girl, such a poor little girl.”

(I just shrug and continue with my shopping. Finally, I reach the cash registers. The customer is there with her grandchildren, and apparently there is some trouble up there, as well, as she is yelling at the cashier.)

Customer: “I want to speak to the manager!”

Coworker: *who she is yelling at* “I’m the evening manger.”

Customer: “Well, then, I want to speak to your boss!”

Coworker: “Of course. She is standing right there.” *points to me*

Me: *puts on my most charming smile and walks up* “Hi again! What can I help you with?”

Customer: *bright red in the face* “Nothing, absolutely nothing.”

(She doesn’t say another word while she is in the store, and basically just runs after she has paid.)

Coworker: “I’m so sorry for dragging you into that, but she was horrible.”

Me: “No worries at all. In fact, you made my day!”

(The customer came back many times, but she never could look me in the eyes again. All in all, a very Swedish way of dealing with confrontation.)

Someone’s On Drugs And It’s Not The Hamsters

, , , | Right | November 14, 2018

(It’s a Friday evening and I’m running the store by myself. There are only 15 minutes until we close so I’m doing some cleaning.)

Customer: *enters screaming* “You’ve been lying to me!”

Me: *rather startled* “I’m sorry, what?”

Customer: *still screaming* “You told me hamsters should eat hay and cat-litter!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’ve said no such thing. Perhaps you’ve talked to someone else?”

Customer: “No! I know it was you; you just don’t remember it because they give you drugs! The guards are on their way to arrest you!”

Me: “Sorry? Who gives us drugs?”

Customer: “Don’t play dumb! It’s those brothers!” *walks away towards the rodent aisle*

(I keep cleaning, thinking this is the end of it.)

Customer: *once again screaming* “There are drugs in these hamster treats! From South America! Why are you selling them?!”

(I walk up to the customer to see what she is talking about; she is currently holding a bag of hamster food I remember her hamster didn’t eat so she came back with it.)

Me: *thinking she have forgotten about it* “Ma’am, I recall you returning [Food] last time because he didn’t—”

Customer: *interrupts me* “SHUT THE H*** UP! I’M TALKING TO THE GUARDS! Your dog treats give you diarrhea!”

(I just shake my head and return to the register. A few minutes later the customer comes back to me.)

Customer: “[Our Store] are idiots! They said my hamster was a male, but she is a female! That’s why she will eat this food!”

Me: “We don’t sell hamsters.”

(I finish the transaction for the food and treats. Apparently, the fact that the treats will be drug-filled isn’t a problem now.)

Me: *as she is heading for the door* “Have a nice weekend!”

Customer: “You, too! I hope you get some dog treats; everybody likes cake!”

(Ah, the exciting work of a pet store employee.)

Red Vs Blue

, , , | Right | October 15, 2018

(I am working in a bingo parlour.)

Customer: “I would like a marker pen, please.”

Me: “What colour? Red, or blue?”

Customer: “It doesn’t matter.”

(I give them a blue marker pen.)

Customer: “I would rather have a red one.”

Cost You Down To The Bone

, , | Right | October 3, 2018

(My colleague and I work in the gift shop of our local museum, where we tend to have rather high-priced, locally-made products. The customer in question is a man with his ten-year-old daughter. She is interested in a scoop-shaped drinking vessel made of bone from a bear, and it’s 50% off.)

Me: “That’ll be [amount].”

Customer: “WHAT?!”

Me: “It’s actually 50% off…”

(He starts to scream and walk off, dragging his daughter by the hand.)

Me: “It’s a unique handmade product made of natural materials, which is why the price is a bit—”

Customer: “NO, IT’S NOT! BULLS***! I CAN MAKE THAT MYSELF!”

Me: “Oh. Okay, then.”

(He stormed out, leaving me and my colleague staring after him in bewilderment.)

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