(I am a manager at a pet supply store. We are in close proximity to a competitor pet store, and part of our coupon policy is to accept competitor coupons. I get paged to the front and when I arrive, my cashier is holding a competitor coupon and a customer is talking over her, so it takes me a moment to figure out what’s going on.)

Customer: “I want the coupon!”

Cashier: “She has this coupon from [Competitor].”

Customer: “That’s my coupon.”

Me: “Okay. We do accept competitor coupons. That’s fine; accept it.”

Cashier: “I did.”

Customer: “I want it back!”

Me: “What? Wait. You used the coupon here?”

Customer: “Yes! And I want it back!”

Me: “But you redeemed it here. You don’t get a coupon back when you use it.”

(The customer behind her points at her and laughs, in the style of Nelson from “The Simpsons,” and I try not to laugh.)

Customer: “But it’s my coupon!”

Me: “You used it here. I need the coupon to balance the drawer at the end of the night. I need to account for all the money, and she’ll be $7 short if you take the coupon.”

Customer: “But I want to go use it at [Competitor]!”

Me: “But you already used it here. You have to surrender a coupon when you use it.”

Customer: “But it isn’t your coupon!”

Me: “Yes, it’s for [Competitor], but we accept it as a convenience.”

Customer: “They do it, too, so don’t think you’re something special!”

Me: “Okay. I’m not special. We’re keeping the coupon.”

Customer: “This is such a scam! You’re scamming me!”

Me: “You received the $7 off your transaction.”

Customer: “Can’t you just take a picture of the coupon and give it back?”

Me: *kind of confused* “Uh, no.”

Customer: “Can I just take it and use it there and bring it back?”

Me: “No, they would also need to keep the coupon to balance their drawer.”

Customer: “Oh… This is such a scam. It’s not right. You’re stealing my coupon.”

Me: “I will be happy to refund your purchase, charge you the full price, and return your coupon.”

Customer: “No! That’s not fair! They give me my coupon back all the time!”

Me: “No, they really don’t. You have to surrender the coupon at the time of the purchase. Any coupon is like that. I can’t think of a place where you can use a coupon and get it back.”

Customer: “You’re a scammer! This isn’t right! I’ll be calling your boss, and I’m going to shop at [Competitor] now! You always do this to me!”

(I imagine the customer went across the street to the competitor and berated the poor cashier there to give her the discount that I “stole” from her.)

Related:
The Couponator 11: Barcode Of Duty
The Couponator 10: Expiration Day
The Couponator 9: The Passive Aggression

(I’m at work, on the phone with a courier to determine the status of an international shipment.)

Me: “I’m calling about the status of a shipment.”

Courier: “Okay… okay… Tracking number?”

Me: *provides number*

Courier: “Okay… okay… okay… International shipment.”

Me: “Yes.” *thinking to myself that I called the international support number*

Courier: “Okay… okay… okay… It’s getting there by air… on a plane.”

Me: “That would be correct.”

(He kept saying, “Okay,” over and over again for another minute or two. At that point, I couldn’t take it anymore and just told him to forget it. I waited a minute, called back, and got someone who didn’t have to tell me that my air freight shipment is getting there by airplane.)

(My town was founded as two towns back in the lumber baron days, and was made into one much later. Residents still know and refer to the areas on either side of the bridges over the river as “East Side” or “West Side.” This is important whenever giving directions, for example. It is my day to work the circulation desk at the library, and part of that includes fielding phone calls. I pick one up about halfway through the day.)

Me: “Circulation desk. This is [My Name] speaking. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Hello! I was hoping to get some directions to the library!”

Me: “Certainly! Our address is [address]. Does that sound familiar?”

Caller: “Not really…”

Me: “Hmm, well, are you East Side or West Side?”

Caller: “What?”

Me: “East [City] or West [City]? I can give you directions based off of that.”

Caller: “There’s an East and West [City] now?”

Me: “Er, as long as I’ve lived here… in [City], Michigan.”

Caller: *starts laughing!* “Oh, my God!”

Me: “What is it?”

Caller: “I meant to call the [Same City], Oregon library!”

Me: *starts laughing as well* “Yes, our library would be a bit of a drive!”

(We both had a good laugh about the mix-up. I wished her luck in her endeavor and spent the rest of my shift in a lighter mood!)

When I was younger, I always loved reading. I still do, even though I don’t have as much time as I used to. In my school, we were allowed to quietly read after we finished our work, something I took full advantage of… at least until my grades started drastically dropping in one class.

I always did my work before I pulled out a book, so I was confused. A parent-teacher meeting was called, and my teacher told my parents that she hadn’t been receiving any papers for me. The decision was made to ban me from reading at all in her class.

I still did my work, and my grade in that class didn’t get much better, but since the apparent “reason” had been taken care of, nothing more was done until one day, when we had a new kind of assignment.

This new one was a magazine for kids with short informational stories. We then had to fill out a little quiz on the back of it. I turned mine in, went back to my seat, and waited.

Towards the end of class, the teacher read out the names of everyone who had turned them in… and mine wasn’t there. I knew I had turned it in, so I asked her if I could look through them, which she allowed. And about midway through the pile, I found it: my work, with my name erased and another name written over it. How did I know?

Well, once you wrote on those magazines, the indent would still be there, even if it was erased. I showed it to my teacher, pointed out the indents, and the person who stole that paper — and several before that — got in a lot of trouble. I had more problems with her, but this was the biggest stunt she pulled by far.

(I stop by the meat counter at my local grocery store to stock up on some different meats. I decide to pick up some chicken, as it is on sale. Thus far, I’ve been making friendly small talk with the guy behind the counter, and nothing amiss has occurred.)

Meat Guy: “Anything else I can get for you, ma’am?”

Me: “Yes, could I please get a pound of the chicken drumsticks?”

Meat Guy: “Sure thing.”

(He reaches down and pulls out the tray, then grabs a handful of them and places them on the scale to check the weight. It comes out to 0.99 pounds. He then bends down to put back the tray with the rest of the drumsticks.)

Me: *jokingly* “Oh, man, 0.99 pounds isn’t going to cut it! I need exactly one pound.”

Meat Guy: *stands up, looking absolutely terrified* “Oh, uh, um, really? I…”

Me: *realizing he took me seriously* “Oh, my gosh, no! I was totally kidding. 0.99 is just fine.”

Meat Guy: *still looking anxious* “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yeah, it’s not a problem. I’m usually fine with whatever I get, as long as it’s within about a tenth of a pound off from what I asked for. I’m actually amazed it’s so close to a pound!”

Meat Guy: “Oh!” *laughs* “Okay. Some people actually do insist that I fix it when this happens.”

(You’d think that after five years of reading this site, I’d realize that some people actually are horrible enough to do that.)