Really Gunning For That TV

, , , , | Right | January 13, 2019

(Over the summer I worked for [Satellite Company] as an intern. My tech trainer and I are currently at a customer’s home. Most customers are nice and quiet so we finish quickly, but at this house, we’ve been there for two hours. The customer, an older gentleman, is a hoarder, resulting in me having to climb over various things to work on his TV and cable box. I’m currently talking to him casually.)

Customer: “Sorry about the mess. I know it’s bad but I don’t have the time to get around to it.”

Me: “It’s fine, man. Trust me, we’ve been to places that were a lot worse.”

Customer: “Yeah, just want to show my daughter what a mess she left her father in when I’m dead and she comes back to get the rest of her s***.”

(Our whole conversation prior was basically his life story.)

Me: “I hear ya; that’s terrible.”

Customer: “The TV’s the only thing that keeps me going now. If that was gone I’d probably just end it here.”

(He pulls out a pistol under the recliner he’s sitting on as he’s saying this and starts pointing it at various places including me. My trainer’s been outside the entire time working on the satellite dish.)

Me: *about to have a panic attack but manage to stay calm on the outside* “Well, then, I guess we better get you set up nice!”

(We finally finish at the customer’s house and get in the van. I turn to my trainer.)

Me: “[Trainer], please, for the love of god, get us the f*** out of here.”

Tech: “That bad?”

Me: “Dude.”

(I then explained the story to him. We both laughed, and eventually my anxiety went back to being manageable. The job was fantastic and most customers were fantastic but this customer was seriously terrifying.)

Unfiltered Story #136352

, , | Unfiltered | January 11, 2019

Customer Service: [My Name], can you test out this computer?  The customer wants to return it.
Me: Sure. [I ran a few basic tests]… OK, it tests out fine.
Customer Service: Ma’am, I’m sorry but we can’t take this back.  It’s outside the return policy and there’s nothing wrong with it.
Customer: How dare you!  I had to go all the way home just to get the charger for this!
Manager [stepping in]: Ma’am, we could only have taken it back if there was something wrong with it.  But there’s nothing wrong with it and it’s outside the return policy anyway.
Customer: I had to drive all the way home for this!  This endangered the life of my child! He’s sick!  I am a CUSTOMER!
Manager: We cannot take this back. This conversation is over.
Customer: You told me one thing and now your employee is telling me something else.  I KNOW MY RIGHTS!
Manager: We cannot take this back.
Manager: This conversation is over.  Please leave.

Eventually the police were called in… by the customer!  She called 911 to complain that we wouldn’t take her return.

Love Needs Its Beauty Sleep

, , , , , | Romantic | January 7, 2019

(It’s very late at night, and I am sound asleep when my phone rings.)

Me: *groggily* “H’lo?”

Voice: “[Not My Name]? [Not My Name], it’s Bob.”

Me: “Bob?”

Voice: “Yes. I need to know how you feel about me.”

Me: “What?”

Voice: “Look. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I need to know if you feel the same way.”

Me: “Who is this?”

Voice: *impatiently* “It’s Bob; you know me!”

Me: “It’s 2:30 in the morning. I don’t know who you are, and if you were in love with me, then you’d know better than to call me at this hour.”

Voice: “Look! I just—“

Me: “If you want to talk to me about this, find me and talk to me about it in broad daylight. I don’t love anybody right now. I’m tired. Goodbye.”

(I hung up and went back to sleep. I never got another phone call from the mysterious Bob, and no one ever confessed their hitherto unknown love for me. Seriously, though, there is no confession of love that can’t wait until at least sunrise.)

Tactless Tuesdays

, , , | Right | January 6, 2019

(As weekly sales begin on Wednesdays, we always have middle-aged women who come in on Tuesdays and don’t understand how to read the small print on the new signs and labels. Either that or they’re taking advantage. Needless to say, the store policy is supposed to be, “If the sign says it’s on sale, we have to give the sale price.” I’m ringing up items. The lady points at the screen.)

Lady: “That item is supposed to be on sale.”

Me: *seeing this coming a mile away* “Unless there’s a computer error, it’s not.”

Lady: “Yes, it is. Here. Let me get the sign.”

(She walks off, and I give the husband a look that almost says, “Is she always like this?” He looks as exasperated as I am, almost rolling his eyes at her. She comes back with a big sign in her hands and sets it right in front of me.)

Lady: “See? It’s on sale.”

(The large enough, the “fine print” suggested she was going to have to wait a day, so I called the manager over. Sure enough, she got what she wanted. Call me crazy or a stickler for policy, but I don’t care how busy someone is during the week. Come back next Tuesday and see if we still have it, or come back tomorrow when the sale begins. Don’t show up the sales associate who knows exactly how much of a b**** you’re being.)

The Color Of Wastage

, , , , | Right | January 5, 2019

(My store sells prescription pet food, but the only reason we’re allowed to sell it is that we have a veterinary facility in our building. In order to buy the food, the customer needs to get a card from our vet with a number that we ring up at our register. One day, the vets call me over to help out a customer.)

Customer: “I don’t know what kind of food I need.”

Me: “It looks like your card says you need [Prescription Food]. I’ll show you where it is. We have two kinds: the regular and the low-fat. They both treat the same problem, but the low-fat is better for overweight dogs.”

(I show her the two types and explain which is which. A few minutes later, the customer goes to the register with one of the bags.)

Customer: “Is this the food I need?”

Cashier: “Um… I’m not sure. I’m not a vet. But it looks like it’s right since it matches what’s on your card.”

(The customer purchases their food and leaves. Five minutes later, she comes back, and this time I’m covering the cashier’s break.)

Customer: “This food is the wrong color. I need to exchange it.”

(I’m annoyed that we now basically have to throw away an opened bag of $40 prescription food after I showed her both kinds, but I go ahead and start to process the exchange.)

Me: “I just need your [vet card] to finish the transaction.”

Customer: “I don’t have it. I left it at home.”

Me: “I need one to finish the transaction, so I’ll just need you to walk over to our vet over there, and they can print you out another card—“

Customer: “I don’t need the card! It’s an even exchange!”

Me: “Unfortunately, my register won’t let me process the transaction without a card. It will only take a minute for the vet to print you out another one.”

Customer: “Just override it! You guys have done it before!”

(We are technically capable of overriding the vet card, but it gets flagged every time we do; we’re only allowed to override it if the customer has proof of a prescription AND the vet’s office is closed. Not only that, but we’re only allowed to override it once per customer, and we always emphasize that they’ll need their card next time.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but we aren’t allowed to sell you this food without a card. You can get another one if you just ask our vet over there.”

(The lady eventually leaves the register and goes to the vet’s office, fussing the entire time. She continues to lecture me when she comes back with a new vet card and the other type of food, insisting that she shouldn’t need a card for an “even exchange,” which it isn’t since the two foods are different and there is a dollar difference in price.)

Me: *as sweetly as I can while I give her the receipt* “Just make sure you bring your [vet card] next time!”

Customer: “I do have a card! It’s in my car— I mean, it’s at home!”

(The best part: two weeks later, she came back with her second bag of food and told us that it was the wrong kind and she needed to return it. She had no receipt. My shift was over, but since I remembered her, I went into the back with my coworker and let her know that the customer did indeed purchase the food. Thanks to my help, my coworker managed to find proof of the transaction and was able to process the return. I later found out that the customer remembered me, as well; she complained about me the entire time I was in the back, calling me “snooty” and falsely claiming that I never gave her a receipt in the first place. We processed the return and lost another $41. Thanks a lot, lady.)

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