Your Scam Method Is Broke

, , , , | Right | August 31, 2017

Customer: *brings item up to the front counter* “Hi, I noticed this is broken. Can I get it for half off?”

Me: “Oh, bummer. Were there any others back there on the shelf like it?”

Customer: “No, not of this color. Can I just get this half off?”

Me: “Well, I know for a fact that I have more of those in that color in the back that aren’t broken. I’ll go get one for you.”

Customer: “No, I want this one. Just put it in the computer for half off. It’s broken.”

Me: “I can see that it is. But I can’t take 50% off just because that corner is chipped off, especially since I know I have plenty that aren’t broken. Would you like me to go get one?”

Customer: “If you can’t give me a discount, I don’t want it. Can’t you just type it in?”

Me: “Only managers can do that, and even if I was a manager, the computer only goes to 20% off. But unless it’s the only one left and severely damaged, I can’t do that for you.”

Customer: *tosses (somewhat fragile) item onto counter* “Whatever.”

(When I went back to where the items are displayed, there were three more on the shelf just like the one she had brought up, same color and all. She must have looked through to find the specific broken one, or maybe even broke it herself in hopes of getting a discount!)

The Explosive Subject Of Contraception

, , , , , | Friendly | August 31, 2017

(I’m talking quietly to a female friend about birth control at a party.)

Me: “So, my doctor recommended I get an IUD inserted—”

Eavesdropping Male Friend: *loudly* “Why’d your doctor tell you to get an IED inserted?”

(I had to explain to a roomful of people that no, my doctor hadn’t told me to get an improvised explosive device implanted in me.)

You’re Banned

, , | Right | August 31, 2017

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “I’m looking for banning.”

Me: “Do you mean a banner?”

Customer: “No! I have no idea where you got that word from. I want banning. B-A-N-N-I-N-G.”

Me: “Hold on. I’ll check for you.” *to coworker* “A customer on the phone is asking for something called ‘banning’, but I’m not sure what it is.”

Coworker: “We don’t have banning, but we have bunting. Check and see if that’s what he’s looking for.”

(I didn’t hear my coworker clearly, and couldn’t remember how to pronounce the name correctly.)

Me: “Sir, we don’t have banning but we do have a banner—”

Customer: “What is your problem?! It’s called banning. Why the h*** would you even bring up a banner?”

Me: “I’m trying to make suggestions. It’s shaped in a semi circle and it can be hung from the roof of your house.”

Customer: “Yes, that’s what I want. Was that hard? I’ll be by to pick it up tonight.”

(The guy never showed up.)

Dreading When They Return

, , , | Right | August 31, 2017

(I’m done scanning all of this customer’s items and tell her the total. She slides her debit card to pay.)

Me: “Um… Ma’am, your card only paid for half of your things. Do you have another form of payment to purchase the rest?”

Customer: “No! It’s my debit card; what are you talking about? Cancel that! I want to try another card!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am; I can’t cancel a transaction, but we can return the items and give you your money back that way.”


Me: *sarcastic voice* “I don’t know, lady! Maybe pay for the rest?”

(Her little boy looks at her.)

Boy: “Mommy!”

Customer: “WHAT!? JUST SHUT UP; YOU’RE REALLY ANNOYING!” *talking to herself as she slides her other card* *Ugh, now I have to return all this tomorrow! Y’all stole my money. I can’t believe this!”

(It was totally not my fault she was broke, and trying to buy shoes. She could have just returned the first part and it would all have been solved, instead of yelling at me like she did, buying ALL the stuff, and saying she was going to return them the next day!)

Tie Down Your Self Esteem

, , , | Learning | August 31, 2017

(In my senior year of high school, I am part of the delegation from my school which participates in the county-wide choir. Prior to the concert, the host school provides a nice meal for the participants. It’s a standing tradition in the choir that during this meal, the boys have an “ugly tie contest,” with the cheers of the onlookers deciding the winner. For reasons that were never adequately explained, I have “inherited” the role of judge from the person who did it last year. As the contest is proceeding, three of the boys from my own school suddenly come running in, two of the boys carrying the third on their shoulders. All I can see, as the crowd starts getting more and more frantic, is that the tie the third boy is wearing has little squares stuck to it. They finally set him down and one of the boys – with whom I’ve been friends since first grade – proudly announces what’s going on.)

Classmate: “It’s covered with pictures of [My Name]!”

(Sure enough, they have photocopied yearbooks from the last few years and plastered this tie with my school photos from eighth, ninth, tenth, and eleventh grades. All I can do is stare, speechless, as the tie covered in MY FACE is loudly declared the absolute ugliest tie in the contest. Later, my old friend realizes just how upset I am.)

Classmate: “It’s not because it was pictures of you, [My Name]. It’s because it was pictures of the judge. We cooked up the plan before it was announced that you were the judge.”

(I understood the logic and let it go, since I knew him well enough to know that this wasn’t done to hurt me. We’re still friends 20 years later. That said, the incident didn’t exactly do wonders for my self-esteem.)

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