(I work in a popular toy store chain, and some of our most popular items are big-ticket items such as bikes, motorized vehicles for younger kids, etc. This particular man wants a Hummer for his son. He calls our store and says that our website is offering it for a lower price, so we tell him that we can price-match it when he comes in to purchase it with no problem. He finally shows up about half an hour before we’re supposed to close. He and his wife approach my register with a jug of bubble bath and the ticket for the Hummer. I ring both up, and the Hummer scans as $449.99 automatically, which is what the online price was.)

Me: “Oh, it looks like it’s actually on sale for that price! We won’t have to price-match it after all.”

Customer: “Oh, great! Also, we have this 20% off coupon.”

Me: “Okay, sure. That makes your total out to be [total]. They’ll be right around with the Hummer.”

Customer: “Thanks! Wait. Did it take the 20% off?”

Me: “It said it went through. Can I see your receipt?”

(It has taken the 20% off of the bubble bath.)

Customer: “Well, that’s stupid. Why didn’t it take it off the Hummer? 20% off $449 would be much better.”

Me: “I agree, sir, but unfortunately the Hummer is on sale, so the 20% off doesn’t apply.”

Customer: “The coupon said 20% off regular-priced and sale items!”

(I take the coupon back out of my drawer and examine it with them. I’m right.)

Customer: “Oh, well…”

Me: “The only thing I could try would be to ring the Hummer up separately, and see if it pushes through.”

Customer: “Okay, try that.”

(I do.)

Me: “Oh. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like that’s going to work. At least it was on sale, right?”

Customer: “It wasn’t on sale. You said you price-matched it.”

Me: “Yeah, that’s what we thought we’d have to do. But it’s actually on sale in-store right now. That’s why the coupon didn’t work.”

Customer: “The 20% off would be a better sale than $50 off.”

Me: “I agree, sir, but I’m afraid I can’t change that right now. You could wait until it goes off sale and try again then.”

Customer: “Can you just take it off sale right now?”

(My manager ended up coming up to see what was taking me so long with this customer’s transaction, so he explained his side to her, and she ended up telling him the same things I told him. And no, I’m afraid I cannot just take things “off sale.”)

Related:
Sail Fail, Part 2
Sale Fail

(I am the strange one in this story. I have just woken up after a colonoscopy and my mind is still a bit fuzzy, but I still don’t know what drove me to do this.)

Doctor: “How do you feel?”

Me: “Are you Mickey Mouse?”

Doctor: “No, I’m not.”

Me: “You’re lying. Hi, Mickey!”

(I feel more awake and realize what I just said.)

Me: “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

Doctor: “That’s okay. That’s not the weirdest thing I’ve heard today.”

(I’m a cook at a popular casual dining restaurant known for its baby back ribs. A waitress rings up a ticket with big red “ALLERGY! SPEAK TO SERVER!” notes on it. Allergy notes typically go to me before anyone else because I have almost all of the ingredients in the kitchen memorized.)

Waitress: “Uh, the woman at table 33 has an allergy to peppers.”

Me: “Table 33 with the spicy shrimp taco? That dish is literally nothing but peppers.”

Waitress: “Is there any way you can make it without peppers?”

Me: “Honestly? No. Try talking to the table again; suggest the [other shrimp taco]. Or, I can make a custom taco no problem, but there’s no way she can have it like it appears on the menu. If she’s really allergic, that’s one thing, but if she’s just worried about it being too spicy, I can easily tone it down.”

(The server returns after speaking with the table.)

Waitress: “She says she’s allergic to all peppers. Like, green peppers, red peppers, chili peppers, jalapeño peppers, black pepper—”

Me: “Ah, geez.”

Waitress: “—and she still wants the spicy shrimp taco.”

Me: “I’ll see what I can do, but ask if she wants a different side dish. The beans are seasoned with pepper. And the rice has black pepper in the seasoned salt we use. Try suggesting some substitutions for the toppings on that taco, because I can’t put any of the current toppings on it.”

Waitress: “I already tried. I suggested, like, cheese, or lettuce, or tomatoes, but she said no. And she was insistent that she’ll have anaphylaxis if it’s made wrong. She started waving an Epi-pen at me. [Manager] is coming back to the kitchen to make the taco. She doesn’t want any substitutions; just make it without peppers.”

Me: “F***.”

Manager: “Okay, the shrimp is ready from the grill. Hey, there’s no seasoning on it; these are plain!”

Me: “Yeah, they are allergic to pepper, so I can’t use the cayenne on it.”

Manager: “Okay, next is the chili lime sauce—”

Me: “Nope.”

Manager: “…okay, then I’ve got the taco slaw—”

Me: “Nope. It’s made with chopped jalapeños.”

Manager: “F***. Okay, the pico—”

Me: “Green and jalapeño peppers, and seasoned salt.”

Manager: “And the garnish drizzle—”

Me: “Just checked. White pepper.”

Manager: “So, that leaves…”

Me: “Plain, flavorless shrimp on a plain, unseasoned tortilla, with a slice of avocado garnish.”

Manager: “Did they want lettuce or plain tomatoes, instead?”

Me: “[Waitress] said no.”

Manager: “Sides are rice—”

Me: “Seasoned salt.”

Manager: “—and beans—”

Me: “Salsa, peppers, and seasoned salt.”

Manager: “Well, I give up. Send it out.”

(The server takes the sad-looking plate out to the table, and returns five minutes later.)

Waitress: “She said she wants pico and chili lime sauce on the side because the tacos are bland.”

Me: “So, now she suddenly doesn’t care about her allergy?”

Waitress: “I tried. She insisted. I reminded her. She’s pissed off because it looks nothing like the photo in the menu.”

Manager: “Somebody’s living on the edge today.”

Me: “Okay. Fine. Pico and chili lime. What side dish did she want instead of the rice and beans?”

Waitress: “…”

Me: “Well?”

Waitress: “She picked southwest mac and cheese.”

Me: “THAT. HAS. JALAPEÑOS!”

Waitress: “I KNOW. I TOLD HER.”

(Apparently we haven’t killed her yet, because she returns at least once a month to flirt with death. She orders the same thing every time.)

(It is a Saturday night, and really quiet. A lady comes in five minutes before closing time on her cell phone. My manager and I are the only ones in, and my manager is preparing for our nine o’clock sales calls to all the stores in the district, so I go up to the customer.)

Me: *a little quietly, since the lady is on her phone* “Excuse me. I just wanted to let you know we’re closing in five minutes.”

Lady: “Oh, I’ll just be a few minutes.”

(She walks around for several minutes before finally getting off her phone.)

Me: “Can I help you find what you’re looking for?”

Lady: “Yes. My dog is really small and low to the ground, and I need a jacket for her, but I don’t want it to get wet with the dew on the grass.”

Me: “Oh, I know the perfect jackets. You’ll want something with this–” *I hold up a rain-jacket-type material* “–kind of material, so it won’t absorb the dew.”

Lady: “Oh, well, what about this one?”

(Holds up a woolen jacket that would absorb any moisture from the grass.)

Me: “Well, that will keep your dog warm, but you said her belly brushes against the grass, so that jacket will pick up the moisture and could become cold.”

(After showing her several more jackets, she finally picks one. My manager is watching as she does the sales calls and points to her watch. I nod, knowing that it’s past closing.)

Lady: “How can I make sure that this will fit my dog?”

Me: *giving the normal spiel for this question* “You can always take it home and try it on, and if it doesn’t fit, you can bring it back with the receipt and exchange it. We normally recommend bringing your dog in so we can try it on, and you don’t have to deal with coming back in multiple times and having to do many exchanges. We are open at ten am tomorrow morning, if you wish to wait and bring your dog in.”

(The lady then proceeded to take twenty minutes looking at the jackets. Every time I got her to pick one, she saw another and asked about it. We only had two or three styles that wouldn’t pick up moisture, so I was constantly repeating what I said about the material. Finally, my manager saw that I was beginning to grow impatient and stepped in while I finished the sales calls. The lady ended up making us half an hour late for closing for a $5.99 sale.)

(I am on my meal break. I get in line to buy my few lunch items behind an awesome coworker. Unfortunately, the lines are long. Soon, a customer begins to edge their way between my coworker and me.)

Customer: “I was already in line. I just left to look at something. The line hasn’t even moved.”

(I feel this is a breach of line etiquette, but, wearing my work uniform, I step aside to avoid seeming rude.)

Awesome Coworker: *to me* “Are you on your lunch?”

Me: “Yes.”

Awesome Coworker: “You can trade spots with me.”

(My awesome coworker then explains to the customer what every hourly worker knows: break time is limited and precious.)

Customer: *belatedly seeming embarrassed* “But wait. Are you on break, too? You can go ahead of me.”

Awesome Coworker: *passive-aggressively, though outwardly perfectly polite* “No, no, it’s fine.”

Customer: *muttering* “I wish someone had told me.”

Awesome Coworker: *a few minutes later in the break room, to me* “Ugh, that customer was terrible!”

Me: “Thank you so much! I didn’t realize you were on break, too. I assumed you traded with me because you were off!”

Awesome Coworker: “Nah, I just wanted to teach that customer good manners.”

Me: “You’re awesome.”