Donation Frustration

, , , , | Right | September 22, 2019

My sister works at a thrift store where the things they sell come from donations and the money they make goes to help the homeless, providing food, shelter, and jobs. Unfortunately, many people seem to view donating as a way to get rid of their trash. Some of the things my sister has seen donated include:

Empty CD cases. Once, a whole tote of them that she had to go through, check, and throw away.

Old mail, with the address and name still on it.

Jelly beans mixed in with the rest of the donated items.

Chewed gum in the bottom of a purse.

Old furniture that was so messed up or rusted that no one would buy it. The donator then usually asks if they can leave it for the store to throw away, which costs the store money.

My sister now appreciates anyone who asks to make sure something is worth donating.

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The Wi-Fi Is Screwed

, , , , | Right | September 16, 2019

(I work at a very popular thrift store. One day, our Wi-Fi goes out so we can’t use our computers. This means that while we wait for the Internet providers to fix it, we have to write up all the receipts by hand and can only take cash. There are signs on the door when you walk in, on each register, and all over the store. My manager makes announcements every 15 minutes, and I apologize to each customer for the inconvenience. But even with all that, this happens multiple times.)

Me: “All right, now that I’ve added in the tax, your total will be [amount].”

Customer: *pulls out a card and tries to hand it to me*

Me: “Um, we can only take cash right now.”

Customer: “Really? Are you sure?”

Me: “Positive.”

Customer: “Well, I really wish someone would’ve told me beforehand.”

Me: “…”

(Also, while most customers are very understanding, patient, and nice about the situation, I still have a couple of these.)

Customer: “Well, this is just very bad business. You need to fix this immediately.” *leaves in an angry huff*

Me: “Oh, sure. Let me just grab my trusty screwdriver and fix the Wi-Fi. I’ll have it up and running in no time.”

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Her Policy Is To Scream And Shout No Matter What

, , , | Right | September 16, 2019

(At my store, if a customer wants to do a return, we have to pay them back the way they originally paid for it. A woman and her daughter come in to return a bra.)

Customer: “I’d like to return this.”

Me: “All right.” *scans receipt and bra* “You’ll be getting back $5.18, and you paid with card, so that’s how we’ll give it back. Please insert your card when it asks.”

Customer: “But I don’t have the card.”

Me: “Well… I’m not supposed to do the return without the card—”

Customer: *cuts me off before I can tell her I’ll still do cashback* “WELL, Y’ALL ARE GONNA GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK! WHERE IS YOUR MANAGER?!”

Me: *signals to the manager to come over* “We may still be able to give it back in cash since it’s a small amount. But next time, please try to have your card so that we can do the return properly.”

Customer: “NEXT TIME Y’ALL ARE JUST GONNA GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK REGARDLESS OF IF I HAVE MY CARD OR NOT BECAUSE I BROUGHT IT IN WITH THE RECEIPT!”

Me: *ignores her yelling to ask for the go-ahead from my manager, though now I have an attitude, as well*

Manager: “It’s fine.”

(My manager tries to calm the woman down because she’s still yelling through the whole thing and even stays after I’ve handed her the money to give us “a piece of her mind” so we’ll “know how to properly run a business.”)

Customer: “…and you’d better not ever try to take my money again! You need to change that policy because it’s bulls***! And next time—”

Me: *fed up after hearing her rant for the past five minutes and slams my hand on the counter* “LOOK! We don’t make the rules, so you continuously yelling at us over five dollars isn’t going to change what corporate decided.”

Customer: “I didn’t say anything about you making the rules! I’m just saying—”

Manager: *cuts her off, sighing* “Ma’am, it’s just store policy. You’ve been shouting for well over five minutes now. We went against store policy and gave you the money back. Can you just drop it?”

Customer: *walks to the toy section with her daughter still loudly going on about how she hates our policy*

Customer #2: *walks up and sets her stuff down rolling her eyes* “I promise I won’t be difficult like that.”

Me: *smiles* “Thank you.”

(Yes, I admit I could’ve handled that better; I lost my temper, and raised my voice. But after dealing with customers like her for nearly a year and getting yelled at earlier that day because our computers shut down, I just had little patience for getting yelled at for five minutes straight over a policy I didn’t make, especially after I had already broken the rules for her.)

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When You’ve Been Doing Black Friday For Eighty Years

, , , , , | Right | August 29, 2019

It was my first week of working in a thrift store and it was our half-off sale day. People lined up outside of the store for hours prior to us opening, Black Friday style. Once the doors were opened people ran in, pushing and shoving to get carts and go to the furniture section. 

I looked over to our toy area and saw an 80-something-year-old woman ram a pregnant lady holding her toddler so that she could get a better look at the puzzles. 

I worked there for six more years.

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Magical Enough To Dry Itself?

, , , , | Right | July 16, 2019

(I used to work at a well-known non-profit thrift store. My job was to take donations from customers and then sort the donations so they could be priced and sold. We aren’t allowed to take certain items if they are damaged, wet, or gross. It rains a lot in western Washington and on this particular day, it is dumping. Most donors who bring furniture cover it up with a tarp or something. Then, these donors show up.)

Me: “Hey, guys! How’s it going?”

Donor #1: “Pretty good, bud! Just dropping off some furniture. It got a little wet, though.”

(I look at their truck; they have a recliner made out of some kind of fabric, and it’s soaked.)

Me: “Uh, guys? We won’t be able to take this.”

Donor #1: *while unstrapping the chair* “What? Why not?!”

Me: “Dude… it’s soaked. Why didn’t you cover it?”

Donor #2: *standing uncomfortably close to me* “Hey, man, you’re taking this chair. It’s a great chair; magical even. You see that chair? I bet you’d love that chair, so you’re gonna take it.”

Me: *getting frustrated* “No, I’m not gonna take it; it’s soaked.”

Donor #1: “Well, what the f*** am I supposed to do with it, then?! I came all the way from [Next Town Over, about 20 minutes away]?”

Me: “I suggest the dump, to be honest.”

Donor #1: “Thanks for nothing a**hole. I’ll be back for you. I know where you work!”

Me: *as they are getting in their truck, calling me every profanity they can think of* “Have a good day!”

Donor #1: “F*** off!”

(I never saw them again, and we still got attempts to donate soaking wet furniture all day, along with the pissed-off people to go with them.)

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