Action Disfigures

, , , , , | Right | March 30, 2020

A few years ago, I got a temp job in customer services for a large toy retailer. This company has pretty strict return policies and it’s standard procedure to ask for photos if a customer claims an item is damaged. 

I’ve only been there a few days when I get a customer email claiming some action figures broke into small pieces. I send our script response apologising and asking for photos. When I get a reply, I open the photo but something seems off and I call my colleague to take a look. The more we look, the more obvious it is; the photo is very clearly faked! It wasn’t even done well. 

In the end, my supervisor tells me to just follow our script and tell him to return it for a refund as we can’t accuse him outright of lying. The customer tries to claim that he has thrown away the figures as they were a choking hazard to his kid. He gives up once I say there is nothing we can do without returning the item. 

Out of curiosity, I look up how much the figures are worth. He went to all the trouble of faking the photos for the sake of £15 worth of action figures.

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Unfiltered Story #190976

, , | Unfiltered | March 30, 2020

(I’ve found that with international travelers, they often have difficulty operating their various devices to connect to the internet. One day, a lady came to reception with a WiFi problem.)

Her: I can’t connect to your internet! It is broken!
Me: Have you connected to the (Hotel Name) signal, with the password hotel123?
Her: I used that password, but it says it’s incorrect.
Me: Which signal are you trying to connect to?
Her: (Router Brand Name)
Me: That’s not our internet signal, ma’am. You need to connect to (Hotel Name).
Her: But why can’t I connect to (Router Brand Name)?
Me: Because we don’t know the password. It’s not our WiFi signal.
Her: But why?
Me: …

What Do Flying Pigs, Unicorns, And Sensible Customers Have In Common?

, , , , | Right | March 29, 2020

(I have just filled up with fuel and have popped in to pay for it. Whilst I am in there, I decide to buy a bag of chocolates for my step-daughter. The queue isn’t long and I am soon at the front, making small talk with the friendly cashier.)

Cashier: “Up to much this weekend?”

Me: “I’m working on Saturday, but I’m free on Sunday; I’ll probably go out on Sunday with my other half for a nice walk. What about you? Doing anything exciting?”

Cashier: “I’m working here all weekend.”

Me: “Sounds like fun.”

(By this point, I have finished my transaction and am just about to head off.)

Me: “May all your customers be sensible.”

Cashier: *pointing out of the window* “See that over there?”

Me: “What?”

Cashier: “You see that unicorn over there?”

Me: “Ah, yes, it’s being chased by a flying pig.”

(We laugh and I return to my car. Just as I am getting in, a voice comes over the tannoy:)

Cashier: “Pump number eleven, you left your goods.”

(I look over to the kiosk and see the cashier waving the bag of chocolates. As I head over to retrieve them, I see through the window that the cashier has handed them to a customer, who brings them out to me.)

Customer: “Yours, I believe?”

Me: “Thank you. And can you please thank him and apologise for me? Tell him that I was distracted by the flying unicorn!”

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Paying By Card Can Be A Backwards Affair

, , , | Right | March 29, 2020

(I am working in a box office for a theatre and am on the phone with a customer whose order is nearly complete.)

Me: “Okay, if you could just read out the sixteen-digit card number on the front of your card, please?”

Customer: “Would you like that number from left to right?”

Me: *pause* “Yes.”

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Unfiltered Story #190962

, , , | Unfiltered | March 29, 2020

(I’m an immigrant living and working in the UK. We’ve just opened and I’m standing at the till. A customer makes a beeline for me from outside and plunks her purse on my counter.)

Customer: Do you have a fiver in your till for change?

Me: I’m sorry, I can’t make change.

(There are a lot of problems with counterfeiting where I live so management is very strict on this point.)

Customer: Oh, just come on, I don’t have time for this!

Me: I’m sorry, ma’m, I’m just not allowed.

Customer: *screaming* Cambridge is a dump! *grabs her purse and storms away, utterly ignoring me as I, for some reason, continue to try to help her.*

Me: But… there’s a bank nearby…?

(So much for that famous British reserve and politeness!)