We sell cards for a specific online game, and we always advise people that they are not refundable. Our system does allow the return, as long as the code hasn’t been used, though we only do returns for specific situations. A woman comes in with her son and puts one of the cards down along with a receipt.

Woman: “I bought this and it didn’t work. Your manager said I could return it.”

Me: “Okay, let me go ahead and get that done for you!”

I start the return, but the system won’t allow it since the code has been redeemed.

Me: “It looks like the system won’t allow it, which means you’ll have to contact [Company] for a refund.”

Woman: “No, your manager said you could refund me!”

Me: “She might have, but the system will not allow it. I can’t even force it to refund you.”

Woman: “Fine, I’ll just wait for your manager to come back in.”

I get a weird feeling about the situation and call my manager after the woman leaves.

Manager: “Oh, her? She tried that yesterday, and I told her to get a hold of [Company], since there’s nothing we can do on our end. I have the feeling she might be trying to scam us.”

I’m off the next day, but I work the day after that. The same woman comes in, this time with her husband. She puts the same card and receipt on the counter.

Woman: “Your manager—”

Me: “Nope. Out.”

Woman: “What?!”

Me: “I talked with my manager. She remembers you, and she told you exactly what I told you.”

Woman: “No, she—”

Me: “Our system will not be able to return this card. Period. We cannot override it. No store can return this for you.”

Woman: “But she—”

Me: “My manager has told me, explicitly, that we cannot return this for you. Your only option is to contact [Company].”

Woman: “You can’t throw me out! I want my money back!”

Me: “I cannot give you your money back. The system says this card has been redeemed; therefore, the problem is with [Company], not us.”

Woman: “I’ll have my husband force you!”

Me: “Now you’re threatening me. You are not able to get your refund through us. I am telling you to leave.”

Woman: “You can’t kick me out! I have rights!”

Me: “And so do I and the company. We have the right to ask anyone to leave. I also have the right to call the cops if you don’t leave.”

Woman: “I’ll just stand in the store! You’ll have to drag me out! I’ll sue for assault!”

I call the police. The woman gives me a triumphant look the whole time, as if she’s somehow won by taking up my time. After a bit, a patrol car parks in front of the store.

Officer: “What’s the issue here?”

Me: “I—”

Woman: “This b**** won’t give me my money back! She stole my money with this s*** card and refuses to give it back!”

Officer: *To me* “Okay, can I get your side?”

Me: “My system won’t allow it, since [Company] has marked it as redeemed. I’ve told her to get a hold of them, since we have no way to refund her at this point. She’s also come in several times demanding we do this for her, even after we’ve told her the same thing every time. She also threatened me and refused to leave when I asked her several times.”

Woman: “YOU CAN’T PROVE S***!”

I quietly point to the camera aimed right at my register.

Woman: “Well… I… F*** YOU! I SHOULD HAVE MY HUSBAND—”

Officer: “Ma’am, I wouldn’t finish that if I were you. Step outside.”

They go outside, and I can hear her yelling from inside the store. Eventually, she’s handcuffed and put in the back of his patrol car. The officer comes back in.

Officer: “Is there a way to pull up a purchase history?”

Me: “Yeah, if it’s bought on the same card. I just need some of the info off the card.”

It turns out, she had been running a scam where she bought various online game cards, sold the codes, then would return them, saying the codes didn’t work. She’d gotten away with a few hundred from our company, and because of a similar scheme with another company, had a warrant out for fraud.

I’m Finnish, and I’m visiting London on vacation. While browsing in a store that sells tabletop RPGs and board games, I hear voices approaching the entrance. Once they step in, I can hear two men speaking to each other in Finnish.

Younger Man: “And this store sells, like, board games and role-playing games and stuff.”

Older Man: “Hm. I bet they’re all in English, though. That sucks. It’s so stupid how everything over here is in English.”

After only a minute or two, they walk out without buying anything, all the while complaining about how nothing in the store is in Finnish. Chuckling, I step up to the counter to purchase something.

Me: “Heh. I just have to mention this — I’m Finnish and so were those men. I could understand everything they said. They were complaining about everything in the store being in English.”

The clerk looks a little puzzled.

Clerk: “Uh… I guess there’s no pleasing everyone?”

Me: “See, that’s just what we Finns do. We complain about stuff. My friend and I were just talking about this last night… and then we realized we were complaining about Finns complaining.”

I work in a game store that sells both retro and new games. This guy around fifteen years old comes up to me to ask about an older item.

Customer: “Hey, how much is a Game Boy?”

Me: “What kind of Game Boy were you looking for?”

Customer: “Uh… just a Game Boy.”

Me: “What kind? The original, Game Boy Pocket, Game Boy Color, Game Boy Advance, Game Boy Advance SP?”

Customer: “…”

Me: “…”

Customer: “You know, the one that folds.”

Me: “So, you want an SP?”

Customer: “Yeah, I guess. That’s the one that plays these games, right?” *Points to the DS games*

Me: *Pause* “No, that would be the NDS.”

I go to a game shop with my little brother sometimes. He’s autistic and has trouble with loud noises. He also knows everything there is to know about the games he likes. The dress code for the store is just normal clothes. A lady comes up to my brother who was telling me about a Mario game.

Customer: “Excuse me, could you help me find a console?”

Me: “Oh, he doesn’t work here.”

Customer: “Then why was he explaining that game to you?”

Me: “He’s my little brother; we’re just shopping.”

Customer: *Yelling* “If you want him all to yourself, then maybe you should leave!”

My brother ended up on the floor rolled up because this lady was screaming at him and me. I helped him up and we left ASAP!

My parents ran a tabletop gaming store when I was in elementary school. My father hosted a “Dungeons and Dragons” campaign, which drew in a fair number of teenagers from the local high school. As I had to stay at the store after school, my mother brought in a “swear jar” and made sure everyone was aware of it beforehand.

In the middle of one session, one teen decides to ask before he uses one such word:

Teen: “Hey, [Mother], does ‘d*****bag’ count as a swear word?”

My mother looks him in the eye and says:

Mother: “No. But seeing as you’ve said that two feet away from my eight-year-old, you get to tell her what it means!”

The look on his face was priceless.