Unfiltered Story #117805

, , | Unfiltered | August 2, 2018

The costume shop which I managed had a policy of charging 1/4 the total price of all rented costumes returned late, for each day late. This is spelled out in bold, easy to read letters on the contract everyone signs. A woman comes in to return a skirt she had rented. I notice it’s a day late, and that her address on the contract indicates she’s from one of parts of the state known for being where the rich people live. We make small talk while I go over her pieces, and she seems friendly.

Me: Alright ma’am, if you’ll please sign right here for your return. It looks like your costume is being returned a day late, so I’m afraid I’ll have to charge you…. (I pause for dramatic affect) a whole $1.50.

Suddenly the customer went ice cold, and she began muttering under her breath. She angrily snapped her card at me to pay, then huffed down the stairs. Later that night I learned that she complained to my manager that I gave her horrible customer service. All because I charged her $1.50 late fee, as per the contract she signed. (My manager just laughed)

Frutti Tutti Glutti

, , , | Right | July 26, 2018

(I work as a salesperson for a well-known garden center. The garden business brings out all sorts of strange people. This is just one of the stories.)

Me: “Hi! Are you finding everything all right, ma’am?”

Customer: “Yes, but I noticed that your fruit trees aren’t certified ‘gluten-free.’ Do you know if the fruit your trees produce are gluten-free?”


Me: “Yes… The trees you’re looking at aren’t a part of the wheat family… Therefore, they don’t produce gluten.”

Customer: “Right, but it’s the fruit that I’m concerned about.”

Me: “The fruit doesn’t contain any gluten, ma’am.”

Customer: “Okay! Thank you!” *walks off*

Coworker: *to me* “Nah… We specifically make sure we inject gluten into all of our fruits.”

A Light Police Story

, , , , | Legal | July 24, 2018

(My father and I are driving a motorhome down a deserted stretch of interstate highway, under the speed limit, at night. No other cars are visible at all, when all of a sudden a state trooper comes up behind us with his light on. We pull over and the officer gets out:)

Officer: “How are you folks, tonight?”

Father: “We are just fine.”

Officer: “What did you pull over and stop for?”

Father: “Where I’m from, at least, we are supposed to pull over for police cars with their lights on.”

(The trooper looks at his car and turns back to us, looking a little embarrassed.)

Officer: “I’m sorry. I was out making sure that no elk were on the interstate. The lights scare them off the road and I forgot they were on. Have a good night.”

Her Heart Just Wasn’t In It

, , , , | Right | July 24, 2018

(I work in a butcher’s shop. It is a pretty calm day at the store. I am helping a few customers when a very forceful lady makes her way to the front of the line. I am already helping another customer, so my coworker walks over to help her.)

Customer: “I need ten pounds of cow heart!”

(At my store, we don’t carry cow heart without special orders, as it’s so rarely purchased.)

Coworker: “Well, we don’t have any right now, but we can order it for you. It may take a few days, though.”

Customer: “I need it soon! I’ll drop by tomorrow to get it!”

(Special orders tend to take at least three days to get to our store, and we attempt to explain that, but she doesn’t listen and comes in every day for the next four days as we wait for the hearts to come in, the entire time insisting she needs ten pounds. Finally, after four days, the hearts come in — ten pounds as she asked. When she walks up I am the only one at the counter.)

Customer: “Are my hearts here yet?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, here they are, as you asked. Can we do anything else for you?”

(As soon as I hand the box of hearts to her, she promptly ignores me as she starts looking at the box of hearts, before she throws three of them on the counter.)

Customer: “I only need seven pounds.”

(With that she walked off, leaving me with three cow hearts that we later had to mark as loss as we couldn’t sell them, and all I could do was laugh at how insistent she was on ten pounds of cow heart.)

They Get No Credit For Realizing

, , , | Right | July 23, 2018

(This kind of conversation happens on a daily basis:)

Me: “Would you like to sign up for [Store Credit Card]?”

Customer: “Is it a credit card?”

Me: “It is a credit card; however, you get [list of benefits].”

Customer: “Yeah, sure.”

Me: “Okay, just to confirm: you do understand it’s a credit card, correct?”

Customer: “Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Me: *proceeds to sign customer up*

Customer: “Hang on. Is this a credit card?”

Me: “Er, yes, it is a credit card, as I explained.”

Customer: “Oh, then I don’t want it.”

(Every. Single. Day. You’d be amazed how many of them will get all the way to the point of officially being signed up before they suddenly realise it’s a credit card and that they don’t want it.)

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