Doesn’t Need To Give You His Two Cents About Two Dollars

, , , , , | | Right | June 18, 2019

(I work in a popular retail store that allows customers to buy any item on sale if they find a sale sign for said item that hasn’t been taken off the floor yet. As a cashier, I have to make sure that the sale sign is for the correct item because most of the time, the sale price is for a similar, but different item. This happens after an elderly gentleman shows up at my till and I ring him up.)

Me: “Okay, that comes to $15.”

Old Man: “I thought it was $13.”

(I get ready to phone one of the girls on the floor to double-check, a process that can easily turn a thirty-second transaction into fifteen minutes.)

Old Man: “But if you say $15, then $15 it is.”

(The old man shrugged and paid, and I stood there amazed. No matter how small the difference is between prices, I have never seen someone who was okay with the larger price!)

A Story Worthy Of Print

, , , , , , , | Working | February 22, 2019

My mom got a printer, and after only a few months of light use, it died. She called in and got a replacement under the two-year warranty. A few months later, the replacement died, and she got a new one. Rinse and repeat every few months for the entirety of the warranty, with her growing more and more frustrated with each new machine. Finally, her fifth replacement stopped working after only three months, immediately after she put $50 of ink cartridges in it, and she called in to troubleshoot and see if it could be fixed. It couldn’t. They informed her that since she was out of warranty she would not get another free replacement, and there was nothing they could do about the money she’d wasted on the now-useless brand-specific ink, but they would offer her a 15% discount on her next printer purchase. She declined the coupon, as she didn’t intend to buy another printer from that company ever again.

My tiny, gentle, mild-mannered, and usually extremely calm mother then carried the printer outside, threw it down the balcony steps, picked up an axe, and hacked it to pieces. She said it felt fantastic, and the best part was when she forgot there was still paper inside, so it started spewing paper everywhere on the way down the stairs.

Can’t Run (Away) With Scissors

, , , , | Working | December 8, 2017

(My girlfriend and I are buying cute, animal-themed onesies, and on impulse decide to wear them home. We leave the change-rooms, gather all of our stuff from the attendant, and head to the front.)

Cashier: “Oh, you have to take those off for us to scan them.”

(We share a look, and both wonder why the attendant didn’t say anything when we grabbed our things, as that seems like a pretty clear “we are leaving now” gesture. When we get back, we are informed that now that the rooms are full, we are going to have to wait.)

Girlfriend: “We were planning on wearing these out, but we were told we’d have to take them off.”

Attendant: “Oh, yeah, haha, that’s right!”

Me: “….Well, maybe next time, you might want to tell people first?”

Attendant: “Oh, right, haha!” *shrugs and walks off*

(At this point, I am quite irritated with this girl. A room finally opens up, we change, and I’m sent up to the counter to pay while [Girlfriend] waits in the change-room.)

Cashier: “Yeah, we just need this to be off to remove the tags.”

Me: “Okay, yeah, I get that, but I really think we should have been told that at the change-rooms.”

Cashier: *shrugs*

(I return to the change-rooms, we get back in our onesies, and I realize that the girl left a huge tag right on the front. While collecting our stuff yet again, I hold up the tag to the attendant.)

Me: “I need some scissors.”

Attendant: *bright smile* “Okay!” *stares at me*

Me: “Umm…”

Attendant: *still staring*

Me: “So… can I have some scissors?”

Attendant: “Oh, I don’t have any.”

(I roll my eyes and head up to the counter, which has a short line. At first I’m waiting patiently, but after a few minutes of watching them stand there doing nothing but chat with each other, I’m pretty fed up with the whole affair and turn to my girlfriend.)

Me: “You know what? F*** this.”

(I walk straight up to the counter, lean over, grab a pair of scissors, cut off the tag, and turn to my girlfriend.)

Me: “Okay, NOW we can GO.” *turn on my heel and march straight out*

License To Kill The Sale

, , , , , , | Right | November 15, 2017

(I work at an international airport for a very large car rental company. A customer approaches the counter, provides me with a reservation number, and I request their driver’s license and credit card.)

Customer: “Here is my credit card.”

Me: “Okay, I will need to see your license as well, please.”

Customer: *begins doing something on his cell phone, seemingly ignoring me*

Me: “Sir, I just need to see your driver’s license.”

Customer: “HOLD ON, HOLD ON!” *puts hand up to shush me*

(The customer hands me his cell phone in which there is a photograph of a TEMPORARY license sitting on what looks like a kitchen counter.)

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. I need to have a physical driver’s license here in order to verify it.”

Customer: “This is a real driver’s license; there’s a photo right here.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. Unfortunately, I cannot accept that as a valid driver’s license.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous! I have a driver’s license! It is right here. This company is going to h***, I swear!”

Me: “Could you present your license to a police officer if you were to be pulled over?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Then I cannot complete this rental for you. I’m very sorry.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous. I have the license right here. Are you blind? You can see this, can’t you?”

Me: “I can see it, yes. But unless you have a valid license in your possession that could be presented if requested, I cannot legally rent you a vehicle, and legally you cannot drive a vehicle.”


Me: *slams face on desk*