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It’s A Pizza Evidence

, , , , , , | Right | October 11, 2021

I’m trying to clean out my closet and am going around the block to whatever secondhand shops are buying, and when none of it sells, I donate the rest to the thrift stores. One of the secondhand shops has a bulldog that pops in on occasion.

I’m sitting in the back waiting to be seen by the cashier and the dog is curled up by my feet. A man walks in with a pizza. He immediately dumps the box on the floor and starts feeding it to the dog.

Customer: “Here, take this. Eat this.”

I’m wondering whether I should step in when one of the staff walks into the back.

Staff: “Hey, sir, please don’t leave that all over the rugs. And don’t feed your pizza to the dog.”

Customer: “All right, all right.”

Despite this, the man keeps trying to feed it to the dog. The staff member comes back.

Staff: “I already told you, don’t do that. The last thing we want is to make him sick; he’s on a special diet.”

Customer: “Okay, I gotcha. Just gimme a moment.”

Still no dice. He’s still trying to feed the pizza to the dog. After a moment, the staff member comes back.

Staff: “We’ve told you, and we’re not gonna tell you again. As a matter of fact, we’re not gonna tell you at all. Get out of our store and don’t come back.”

The man started swearing and immediately booked it out of the store with pizza in hand. I overheard some staff members talking about him and asking each other if they knew the guy. Apparently, he pulls this kind of stunt on occasion and somehow managed to steal a whole pizza, so he was trying to get rid of the evidence by feeding it to the store’s dog. I’m still trying to wrap my head around how he got away with that one.

On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 27

, , , , , | Right | October 11, 2021

I used to handle purses and shoes at my local thrift store, and among the various passes and fails of quality check, I’ve found a few gems and a few absolute nightmares.

The worst nightmare purse on record was a beautiful, beaded, white clutch that looked perfect… until I looked inside.

Someone had decided to shove their bloody, used tampon inside at some point, staining the entire inside bottom with menstrual blood.

Then, in a stroke of genius, the person had then splashed some sort of chemical inside the purse. The splash pattern of the poured chemical was clearly visible, and the insides were a creepy patchwork of rusty red and a deep shamrock green!

I was very grateful that I did those inspections with gloves on! It went into the garbage bag immediately.

On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 26
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 25
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 24
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 23
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 22

When It Comes To Charity She’s A Completely Different Animal

, , , , | Right | October 6, 2021

I work for a thrift store that donates its proceeds to a local animal rescue group. It is named “[Animal Rescue Group] Thrift Store” on the building and on its signs. There is no way to make this a subtle fact.

I am on the registers with [New Coworker], who ends up getting an old lady.

Old Lady: *Rudely* “What, exactly, does my money benefit?”

I’m listening in, in case I have to save [New Coworker], but she handles it fine.

New Coworker: “Oh, almost all of our profits go toward [Animal Rescue Group] to help homeless and lost animals!”

Old Lady: “Well, I don’t care about helping the animals. I want my money to go toward helping people!”

New Coworker: *A little awkwardly* “Well, ma’am, that sounds like a good place for your money to go toward, as well, but our store is for [Animal Rescue Group]. Do you still want your items?”

Old Lady: “Where else can I spend my money so it goes toward people?”

New Coworker: “…”

Me: “Ma’am, there’s [Other Thrift Store] literally a block down the road.”

Old Lady: “I’ve already been there! They didn’t have what I needed!”

Me: “Or you can go to [Teen- And Family-Oriented Thrift Store] about a mile down the road.”

Old Lady: “I want these items, but I want you to take the proceeds to them, then!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but that’s not how it works. If you buy the items at our thrift store, your money goes to our charity. If you want to donate to another store, you need to spend your money in their store.”

Old Lady: *Angrily* “Well, that’s just ridiculous! It’s my money! It should go toward a charity I want it to go to!”

I mean… you’re standing in a building that states that it’s affiliated with an animal rescue. Funds going toward animal rescues is kind of the whole point of shopping here. How in the world does a person walk in and demand that their purchase of [Store #1]’s products be sent to [Store #2]’s profits?!

Me: *Coldly* “No, ma’am, that’s not how it works. That’s not how any store works, not just our thrift shop!”

Old Lady: “Fine, take my money and use it on your filthy animals! I won’t shop here again!”

She storms out.

New Coworker: “Am I losing my mind? Did that really just happen?”

Beginning To Sound Like A Broken Record

, , , , | Right | September 21, 2021

I work in a donation center and thrift shop. Normally, I work accepting donations, but this time, I’m in the electronics section untangling wires and removing things people jammed into disc slots.

Customer: “Do you have record players?”

Me: “Unfortunately, we don’t have any out here at the moment.”

Customer: “Can you check the back?”

Me: “All right, I’ll be back in a minute.”

This is the sort of store that COULD have nearly anything in the back at any moment without anyone in the front knowing, so I go over to the back and ask the coworkers there if they had seen any record players. Everyone says no, so I return back to the customer.

Me: “No, no one in the back has seen any record players lately.”

Customer: “When will you have more?”

Me: “We’ll have more when people donate some.”

Customer: “Then when will people donate more record players?”

Me: “Honestly, we don’t know. We don’t have any control over when they donate record players.”

Customer: “I’m not asking that. I’m asking when people will donate more record players!”

Me: “Again, we really can’t say. Perhaps someone is coming over right now with a record player, or perhaps we won’t get another one all year. It’s up to the donors to decide what to donate and when.”

Customer: “Let me ask again. Do you have record players?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “That’s what I wanted to know!”

And then he walked off.

From The Makers Of Jenga: Cabinets

, , , | Working | September 10, 2021

I go to a thrift store that is connected to a church. There’s a big sign that says, “No refunds,” which I understand and accept, so I go inside. I find a lovely little cabinet, check everything, and buy it.

However, when I get outside and put it down — well inside ten meters of the store — it simply falls apart. In the literal sense of the word. Imagine one of those slapstick scenes — that literal. 

I go back inside the store, with all the pieces. 

Me: “Eh… it fell apart.”

Employee: “Excuse me?”

Me: “I put it down and, well… this.”

Employee: “But you just bought it. Like… five minutes ago.”

A man I don’t know chimes in.

Man: “I saw it happening. She only put it down.”

Me: “I know the store says, ‘No refunds,’ but eh, I’m… kind of upset about this.”

Employee: “Of course! Let me get the owner for this.”

The employee calls for the owner and the owner comes. The woman looks at me. 

Owner: “So, you want to donate something?”

Me: “No, I just bought this cabinet and it just fell apart.”

Owner: “I’m sorry to hear that, but the store policy is—”

Employee: “No, no, she just bought it! Not even five minutes ago!”

Man: “I saw it happening. This lady did nothing unusual.”

Owner: “Huh? She went home or…?”

Me: “No, I only went outside and put the cabinet down.”

Man: “She hadn’t even passed the lamp post over there!”

Owner: “But I checked this cabinet myself! It was fine! It is sturdy!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but it just fell apart.”

Owner: *To the employee* “How much did she pay?”

Employee: “[Small amount].”

Owner: “Did you see it happening?”

Employee: “No, I did not. I’m sorry.”

There are no cameras in or outside this store.

Man: *Getting louder* “But I did! I am a witness!”

Owner: *Sigh* “Fine, just give her the money back. But you’ll leave the planks here!”

Me: “Fine by me; I wasn’t looking for a [Swedish Furniture Store] project. Thank you so much.”

Owner: “But this is an exception! No refunds!”

Me: “I understand, and again, thank you.”

I was happy that man stood up for me because I have a feeling this owner didn’t actually believe me. This event did give me a somewhat sour aftertaste and I wondered if I should give that store a second chance. However, right before the global health crisis, they suddenly closed.