Bagged Herself A Steal

| MI, USA | Right | August 21, 2013

(I’m a college freshman working in a thrift store. The most expensive item in the shop is $10. I am straightening up a rack when I watch a customer go into a dressing room, then emerge from the dressing room wearing a completely different outfit and make for the door. I stop her.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am! You realize you’re going to have to pay for that, right?”

Customer: “I know that! I’m not an idiot!”

(The customer turns around and walks over to a bookshelf, as if that’s where she’d been headed all along. I go back to the rack, but watch her out of the corner of my eye. She slowly begins making her way towards the door again.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. You still need to pay for that.”

Customer: “I did.”

Me: “Ma’am, I watched you. You went to the bookshelf and then tried to leave again.”

Customer: “You were SPYING on me?! I want to talk to your manager!”

(My manager, having heard the commotion, is already on his way over.)

Manager: “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

Customer: “Yes. This little girl was spying on me and accused me of trying to shoplift my own clothes!”

(I began to bristle and protest, but my manager shushes me and points to the customer’s pants. Or rather, to the price tag sticking out of the pocket. The woman looks down at it and then bolts for the door. I start after her, but my manager calls me back.)

Manager: “Ah, let her go. She’s only wearing about $6 worth of merchandise anyway.”

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The Honesty Of The Thievery Pants

| Portland, OR, USA | Right | March 28, 2013

(A man comes in and starts looking through the clothes. He grabs a pair of pants, and starts fast-walking towards the door.)

Coworker: “Sir, are you going to pay for those?”

Man: “No.”

Coworker: “Sir, we really need you to pay for those.”

Man: “NO!”

Me: “Please, sir! We need those back!”

Man: “I need them more!”

(The man bolts out the door. We look at each other for a moment dumbfounded, then burst out laughing.)

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Customer Slur-vice

| Washington, DC, USA | Working | December 3, 2012

(I am working as a cashier in a well-known thrift store. One day, the manager flops into a sofa and starts loudly mocking the customers using racial slurs, even though the store is full of paying customers.)

Coworker: *to my manager* “You’d better watch out. Some customers are right behind you.”

Manager: “Nah, they don’t know English, so they don’t know what I’m saying.”

Customer: “Excuse me? I understood perfectly what you were saying and it was disgusting! Rest assured, I’m going to complain and hopefully get you fired! You are a very bad man!” *storms out*

Manager: “Why? What did I do?!”

(One by one, the other customers leave, giving dirty looks to him. I throw down my apron and leave for good too. He got fired soon after that, I’ve heard.)

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Don’t Judge A Bull By Its Cover

| Bakersfield, CA, USA | Working | June 25, 2012

(I am at an animal charity thrift shop. They are passing out vouchers to help get dogs and cats spayed and neutered. An employee approaches me.)

Employee: “Hello, how many pit bulls do you have?”

Me: “I don’t have pit bulls. I need the vouchers for two male cats.”

Employee: “Okay, and what’s your address?”

Me: *I give her my address*

Employee: “…and how many pit bulls do you have?”

Me: “I do not have pit bulls. It’s for two male cats.”

Employee: “What’s your name?”

Me: *I give her my name*

Employee: “How many pit bulls did you say you have?”

Me: “I do not have any pit bulls. It’s for two male cats.”

Employee: “Okay. Well, you can take your pit bulls to—”

Me: “Ma’am, I DO NOT have pit bulls! Why do you keep asking me that?”

Employee: “Well, you just look like you do!”

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Caught Red-Handed, Part 3

| Chicago, IL, USA | Right | March 26, 2012

(Note: I work at a thrift store. It’s quite common for people to pull off price tags in an effort to get a lower price. Most of the time it works, but occasionally we’ll catch someone doing it. This night, my boss approaches me holding a tag that says “$6.99”.)

Boss: *hands me a tag* “I just watched a family in housewares pull this tag off of a metal basket. So, if they ask what price it is, it’s $6.99.”

(Just as my boss predicted, the family comes up ten minutes later with the metal basket, just before closing. The husband begins talking to me.)

Customer: *feigning ignorance* “Oh, so what’s the price on this basket?”

Me: “It’s $6.99.”

Customer: *indignant* “Really?!”

(I pull out the $6.99 price tag they ripped off earlier.)

Me: “Yeah, really.”

Customer: “Oh, s***.”

(I love my work sometimes.)

 

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