Could Have Scooted Over To The Bank

, , , , , | Right | June 21, 2017

(It’s three minutes before close and my manager is next to me closing another register. An eight-year-old girl comes up to my till with her grandparents to buy a scooter. Note that in Canada, we have $1 and $2 coins.)

Grandmother: “I’m sorry about this.”

Me: *thinking it’s about how late it is* “Oh, it’s no problem—”

Grandmother: “No, you’ll see.”

(My and my manager’s eyes bulged. The woman took out her granddaughter’s allowance that the girl had saved up to spend — all of it in coins in six plastic baggies. My manager and I desperately began counting it, taking ten minutes between us to do it. The girl had saved up $165.65 in coins to spend that day. What’s worse was that there are two banks across the parking lot from our store they could have gone to change the coins.)

Not A Glass Act

, , , | Right | June 20, 2017

(For a while we had these bouncy balls with pretend fish in them and when one was on its stand it would look like the fish were swimming. An eight- or nine-year-old boy grabs one and bounces it hard on the ground.)

Boy: *looking disappointed* “Aw, I thought it was glass.”

Lying For Less Than Eight Dollars

, , , | Right | June 7, 2017

(I have just finished ringing up a customer.)

Customer: “I want to go through the items again. Last time you charged me for something twice but it was too much trouble to come back.”

Me: “All right, let’s move over to this counter and we’ll go through everything.”

(I pull each item out of her bag and read off the prices while she marks off the receipt behind her hand so we can’t see her.)

Customer: “See! You charged me an extra $7.99! I want you to refund it!”

Me: “Are you sure? Let me check one more time. Here at the bottom of the receipt it says that I rang up [number of items] and in your bag there are [same number of items]. How about I mark off the receipt with you?”

Customer: “No! It’s not worth it!”

(She grabs her bag and leaves in a huff.)

Coworker: *laughing* “She knows you caught her lying, doesn’t she?”

Me: “Yup.”

Dora Explores Racism

| TX, USA | Right | April 22, 2017

(I am a seasonal employee at a well-known toy store. An old lady, we’re talking, like, eighty or so years old, comes up to me while I am organizing the shelves.)

Customer: “Excuse me, where are your Doras?”

Me: *smiling* “Oh, right this way, ma’am!” *I lead her to the large section of Dora toys and plushies* “All our Doras are right here.”

Customer: *looks troubled* “Oh, no, sweetie. I can’t give my grandbaby these Doras. I need a white Dora.”

Me: “I’m sorry but—”

Customer: “I can’t give my baby a brown Dora! You understand, don’t you?”

Me: “Sure, ma’am. But I’m afraid there’s no Doras that aren’t… brown. I can show you some of our… white baby dolls.”

Customer: “No, dear, that’s all right. Thank you for your help.”

(She left, and I was trying not to laugh at the whole exchange. I found out from my sister, who worked at the same store, but in the mall, that the same lady came in and asked her the same thing! She said about the same thing I did, except the woman finally bought a baby doll. A black one.)

Toy Sob Story

| USA | Right | April 1, 2017

(I am working at the customer service desk in a toy store, when a red-faced angry looking parent comes running up to me.)

Parent: “What kind of witchcraft you all got running here?!”

Me: “Uh… pardon?”

Parent: “The toys! THE TOYS! You’re selling f****** possessed toys?!”

Me: “Possessed?”

Parent: “They’re alive! They move when you’re not looking, and they talk!”

Me: “What is giving you that impression, ma’am?”

Parent: “My son was surrounded, attacked and threatened by a whole bunch of them! He went crazy and started running down the street!”

Me: “Oh, my. Well, that’s—”

Parent: “He won’t eat! He won’t go in his room! He’s a complete wreck! We put him in therapy and he blabbered on about the toys coming to life! They put him in a mental hospital! He’s been there for months and they won’t let him out! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!”

Me: “All our fault?”

Parent: “Yes! You sell toys! Toys put my son in the loony bin! I demand compensation!”

Me: “I’m sorry ma’am, but that isn’t possible. I’m sorry about your son, but unless you have a receipt that proves a product you purchased from us was faulty, there’s nothing we can do.”

Parent: “This is ridiculous! I’m calling corporate!”

(She storms out, screaming at all the toys to stop watching her as she goes. Before I can even begin to process what has happened, my manager pages me.)

Manager: “[My Name], please come to the back room. The Buzz Lightyears have mysteriously tried escaping again…”

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