Unfiltered Story #148192

, , | Unfiltered | April 29, 2019

For about a year, I worked at a mall-chain cookie store, and while customers would form more of a mob than a line (our store had a glass display of all the cookies and some cakes wrapping around the front of the store) my coworkers and I can keep tabs on who came up first.

On one of the busy mob days, my coworker and I were both dealing with a customer (which will sometimes cause us to pass other costumers to grab a cookie they want.) when I pass an older lady and her husband.

Old Lady: “Hello! We would like to order something please!”

I glance up at her and she has a ‘you should be serving me right now, but I’ll forgive you.’ while her husband shakes a fist with money in it.

Me: *trying to stay patient as possible* “I know ma’am, but as you can see, there are people in front of you. When my coworker and I get done with them, we’ll get to you.”

I overhear her say something along the lines of, “I don’t understand the wait since we’re paying costumers,” and I lose it. I look at her from behind a sign on the counter and give her a ‘are you serious?!’ face, before ignoring her and going back to my current customer and ringing her out.

Once I’m done, I turn around to see that the older lady and her husband are gone.

Me to my coworker: “Where’d she go?”

I found out that when he skipped a costumer in front of her to serve her she said she wouldn’t be eating her since she didn’t like my attitude.

I’m all for respecting your elders, but I have absolutely NO patience for rude, entitled people like that lady. Good riddance!

Have Some Selfie-Respect

, , , , , , | Romantic | March 31, 2019

(I met this guy on a dating app, and we have been texting for a few days. I have several tattoos and he has asked to see pics — no big deal. I take some pics of the tats on my ankle and wrist and send them to him.)

Guy: “Who else is with you?”

Me: “Huh? I’m alone. Why?”

Guy: “No, seriously. Why is there another guy there taking pics of you?”

Me: “I just used the camera on my phone; it only needs one hand to take a pic.”

Guy: “No, someone else is there and you are lying to me. It’s not possible to take a pic of your right wrist with your left hand.”

Me: “Okay, you caught me. My house is haunted and the ghost was taking the pics.”

Guy: “I knew it. You lied about being alone. I can’t trust you.”

(Glad I dodged that bullet!)

This Digital World Is Leaving Him Behind

, , , , | Working | March 27, 2019

(I work as an unloader in a supercenter, and occasionally we pull palletized trucks to the coolers for another team to break down and run. Recently, we got a new hire, and since I have been there the longest, I end up training all the fresh meat. The kid, a high school student, is not the sharpest and quickly earns a reputation for being the most idiotic and lazy employee. It gets to the point that if someone else is being lazy we tell them that they are being a piece of [New Kid] as an insult. It is during the pulling of a frozen dairy truck that I finally lose all hope in him ever being a useful individual, not just at work but in everyday life. I put one pallet into the freezer and wait to remind the new kid that he must check the temperature and pull the thermometer.)

Me: “[New Kid], don’t forget the temp, okay? It has to be below 10°.”

(There is a long pause.)

New Kid: “Uh… Hey, [My Name], can you come here?”

(I enter the freezer to see him staring blankly at the pallet, open-mouthed and dead-eyed.)

New Kid: “I don’t know how to read this.”

(He’s just staring at the back of a digital thermometer where it would clip into the board.)

Me: *internally screaming* “Here.”

(I flipped around the thermometer to reveal a digital -2° and just walked out, leaving a piece of my soul behind.)

Magic: The Blathering

, , , , | Right | March 21, 2019

(The trading card shop closes at 12 pm almost every night. My boyfriend works there so I am frequently there hanging out till close. The other night I hear this exchange in the front of the store.)

Customer: “Could you please move your bags? I need this area to sort cards.”

(Several others are playing cards there and just stare at him.)

Manager: “It’s 11:30. It’s a little late to start sorting cards.”

Customer: *checks watch* “Actually it’s 11:20.”

Manager: *with a look of murder in his eyes, very sarcastically* “Oh, sure, then. That extra ten minutes will give you plenty of time to sort.”

Customer: “What?”

Manager: “Never mind. Come back tomorrow and you can sort; it’s a little too late.”

Customer: “Oh, I’m sorry. I have a split personality disorder and one of them doesn’t understand sarcasm.”

(Everyone waited for him to laugh… but he was serious.)

Wishing You Could Flip Them The Bird

, , , , | Right | March 15, 2019

(On a busy Saturday, a customer comes in with her three-year-old son and her mother to purchase a parakeet.)

Customer: “We’re going to take him to the vet to have his wings clipped.”

Employee: “Really? You don’t have to go to the vet for that. They charge for it, and we can do it here for free if you want.”

(No one in my store enjoys clipping the birds’ wings. Not only does it fail to benefit the bird in any way, but it’s also a literal pain in our fingers; birds bite. Still, since customers sometimes want it done, we will clip the wings if they ask… or in this case, to save the customers some money. The customer agrees, and my employee clips the wings and sends them on their way. About half an hour later, I get a phone call.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Pet Store]; how can I help you?”

Customer: “I just purchased a bird there, and when we got it home, it was all bloody! Your employee cut the bird’s wings, and she obviously did a bad job!”

Me: “Oh, that’s strange. If you bring the bird back, we can take a look and see what’s going on.”

(I let my boss know what’s going on, and then I approach my pet care employee.)

Me: “You clipped a bird’s wings a while ago, right? I have a customer who called and said you injured it.”

Employee: “Really? I clipped them the same way I’ve always done it, and I didn’t see any blood.”

(When the customer comes back with the bird, my employee and my boss both take a look at it. The bird’s injury is not on its wings, but on its side.)

Customer: “See? You guys didn’t cut its wings right! We got this bird because it was getting picked on by the other birds, and now you’ve hurt it worse!”

Me: “It looks like the bird’s wings aren’t hurt at all. There’s a small wound on its side. If you’re right, and the bird was getting bullied by the others, I think one of the other birds might have scratched or bitten it, and the wound tore open from the stress of getting caught, clipped, and put in the box. What we can do is you can return the bird to us—“

Customer: “We don’t want to exchange it! My son is attached to it already.”

Me: “No, ma’am, we don’t want you to exchange it. If you return it, we can take it to our vet here in the building, and we can nurse it back to health, and we can sell it back to you once it’s healed.”

Customer: “We don’t want to do that. My son will miss him!”

Boss: “Well, I’ve cleaned the wound and stopped the bleeding, so it looks like you can take the bird home today if you prefer to do that. I would just leave him alone for a few days and give him time to heal. If you do that, he should be fine.”

(Two days later, the customer and her mom storm into the store with their bird, who is now bleeding worse than ever. They completely dodge my boss and go straight to the vet, who is in our building but technically part of a separate company. The vet tells them that she has to keep the bird overnight, which they are NOT happy to hear. All of this happens on my day off, so when I come back to work the next day, I have no idea that their bird is even in our building. I get a phone call when my shift starts.)

Customer’s Mother: “I brought my bird in because it was injured; how is it doing?”

(I search everywhere for the bird, starting with our sick room in the back, which is where we keep any injured or ill animals to nurse them back to health. The bird isn’t there. I finally find the bird at the vet.)

Me: “I just talked with the veterinarian, and it sounds like your bird is doing just fine. She thinks we need to keep the bird here for a few days to make sure it heals properly–“

Customer’s Mother: “A few days?! That’s too long! We want him back now! He still belongs to us!”

Me: “Did you return the bird to us at the register?”

Customer’s Mother: “Of course not!”

Me: “That’s strange; I’m not sure why my boss would let you do that. We usually have customers return animals to us, so that way we’re the only ones who get charged with a vet bill–“

Customer’s Mother: “There’s no way I’m paying for all this!”

Me: “I didn’t say you would, ma’am. That’s why I’m trying to figure out why it wasn’t returned to us. I wasn’t here yesterday. I’m going to call my boss and figure out what’s going on, and I’ll call you back.”

(I contact my boss, who tells me that we’re going to pay the vet bill, even though the customer never returned the bird. I’m worried that we’re now responsible for a bird that technically isn’t ours. Not only is it against our policy, but now we’re liable if something happens to him. I call the customer back.)

Me: “All right. I talked with my boss, and it sounds like we will be paying the vet bill, and your bird is going to be fine. We’re going to keep him here until he’s all better, and we’ll call you when he’s ready to be picked up, okay?”

Customer’s Mom: “Can I call you in the meantime to check on him?”

Me: “Absolutely!”

(Late in the evening, I start getting frantic calls and texts from my boss AND the store manager, both asking me what on earth I said to the customer’s mom. Apparently, the customer posted on a local Facebook group, claiming that we “insisted” on clipping the bird’s wings against HER judgment, that I tried to make HER pay for the vet bill, and that I tried to make her exchange the bird for another one so we could KILL her bird for being “too much trouble”! Meanwhile, her Facebook followers were eating up the story and telling her to sue us.)

Store Manager: “Is any of this true?”

Me: “No!”

(After I explained the truth, my store manager realized that the bird was a massive liability. She called the customers and told them that they were free to pick up their bird anytime. The customer’s boyfriend came back in the next day and took the bird, stealing the cage it was in while he was at it. The customer made a second Facebook post about how “traumatized” the bird was from the ordeal because, “he won’t let me touch him,” even though the vet told her AGAIN to leave the bird alone until it healed!)

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