A Cents-less Waste Of Time

, , , , , , | Right | October 15, 2017

(Our gas station has a member’s card that you can scan when you pay and get $0.03 off per gallon of gas. This customer forgets to hand me their card to get the discount while they are pre-paying inside for their gas. Five minutes later, they’re back inside with their receipt, furious that they did not get their discount.)

Me: “Yes, sir; what can I do for you?”

Customer: “You didn’t scan my [Gas Station] card! I want my discount. You owe me a refund, son.”

Me: “I apologize for the inconvenience, sir, but I cannot go back and give you the discount when you didn’t give me the card to scan.”

Customer: “I just want my three f****** cents off!”

(I look at my screen and see that they only got $15, a little over six gallons-worth of gas.)

Me: “Do you have your card with you?”

(The customer hastily grabs their wallet, searches for a few seconds, and slams the card down on the counter angrily.)

Me: “I can’t scan the card for the previous transaction, but I’ll give you the refund for what would have been your discount since I have it right here anyway.”

(I handed them $0.18 from my till and replaced it with pennies from my “take one leave one” cup on the counter. The customer looked down at their dime, nickel, and three pennies, and gave me a telling look of embarrassment, knowing that they wasted five minutes and made of fool of themselves in front of the whole store for practically nothing.)

Don’t Waist Your Time On Him

, , , , , | Right | October 13, 2017

(A customer on his phone approaches me.)

Me: “Can I help you today, sir?”

Customer: “Yes, but I’m afraid it might be unethical.”

Me: *slightly worried* “Well, what is it I can do for you today?”

Customer: *turns around and pulls down the waistband of his jeans* “So, my wife is next door getting me new pants, and I can’t remember what size I am. Would you mind taking a look at the tag?”

Unfiltered Story #98056

, , | Unfiltered | October 12, 2017

(I’m standing in the hunting/outdoors section of the local sporting goods stores whose employees are usually dressed in green and khaki clothes and a name-tag on a lanyard. I’m wearing black pants, black shirt and a have just come from work. A customer looking at some knives on a display snaps his fingers at me.)

Customer: “Hey! Yeah, you! Hey, yeah, can you tell me how much this knife is? There’s no price on it.”

Me: “Oh, sorry. I don’t work here. I’m just waiting for my background check to go through so I can buy a shotgun.”

Customer: “Hey, I just want to know how much this knife is. Can you get one of your other workers to come out here and give me a price check on this thing?”

Me: “Sir! I don’t work here. I work for [Governmental Department]. If you need a price check on the knife, you’ll need to find an employee. I don’t see a price over there, either. Tell you what? For you, I’ll give you a special price, because I like you. Uhh, $5.”

Customer: “Sounds good! I’ll take it!”

(He then actually took a knife off the rack and walked up to the front with it.)

Unfiltered Story #97358

, | Unfiltered | October 9, 2017

(One afternoon I decided to pick up fried chicken for dinner. I went to a fast food chain that serves fried chicken and walked inside to place my order.)

Me: “I’d like to get the 10 piece dark meat only bucket.”

Cashier: “Okay.”

Me: “I’d like to get that as a meal.”

Cashier: “Okay.” (Presses buttons and a ridiculously high price comes up.)

Me: “That’s very high. The dark meat only bucket costs a little less than the 8 piece bucket, but your total is a lot higher than the 8 piece meal.”

Cashier: “That’s because I rang you up for the 12 piece meal with substitutions.”

Me: “That’s not what I wanted. The dark meat only bucket has thighs and drumsticks only which is why the bucket cost is less than the 8 piece bucket. I want the dark meat only bucket, not the 12 piece, as a meal.”

Cashier: “That can’t be made a meal. If you want a meal you need to get either the 8 piece bucket or the 12 piece bucket and request substitutions.”

Me: “What? Why can’t it be made a meal?”

Cashier: “Because it doesn’t come as a meal. You have to get either the 8 piece or 12 piece bucket to get a meal.”

Me: “I’ve gotten it as a meal before.”

Cashier: “Well they must have rung you up for one of the other buckets and did substitutions.”

Me: “That makes no sense. The price for the dark meat only bucket is a little less than the 8 piece bucket even though it has more pieces, and I’ve gotten all ten pieces in the past with a meal.”

Cashier: “You can order two additional pieces to go with your meal.”

Me: “That’s even more money, boosting the price of the actual bucket even higher. Why can’t that particular bucket be a meal? I’d like to talk to the manager.”

Cashier: “Okay but he’s not going to tell you anything different.”

Me: “That’s fine but I want to talk to him.”

(The cashier gets the manager.)

Manager: “Hello, how can I help you?”

Me: “Hi. Is it possible to get the 10 piece dark meat only bucket as a meal?”

Manager: “Of course!”

(The manager presses two buttons on the register, a more reasonable total comes up, and he walks away. The cashier glared at me the rest of the time I was in the restaurant waiting for my order.)

A Sign Of A Good Friend

, , , , , , | Learning | October 6, 2017

(I have injured my right wrist. It’s wrapped, and my arm is in a sling to avoid any further strain. Due to previous sports injuries, I have already taught myself to write with my left hand, but it’s much slower than with my right. Today, we not only have a written test in my ASL class, but a substitute administering it. I am struggling to complete the test in time.)

Classmate: *finishes and goes to turn in his test, whispers* “Mrs. [Substitute Teacher]?”

Substitute Teacher: “Yes?”

Classmate: “[My Name]—” *points at me* “—hurt her arm and can’t write well. Could we step out in the hall, so I can help her write?”

Substitute Teacher: “Absolutely not! You’re just going to cheat.”

Classmate: “Even if I wanted to, she doesn’t need my help.” *taps the gradebook on the teacher’s desk* “Check for yourself. She has the highest grade in the class.”

Substitute Teacher: *looks up to see the whole class nodding, while I blush a million shades of red* “Go sit down.”

(A few minutes pass, during which time she actually does open the gradebook. She calls us both up.)

Substitute Teacher: “Fine. You two can go out in the hall. But I WILL be checking on you, and I will leave a note for your teacher. She could fail you if she thinks this is cheating.”

Me: *knowing the teacher and her views, I’m not worried* “Thank you.”

Classmate: *takes my test paper and leads the way outside* “Question 12?”

Me: “Thanks, [Classmate]. I really appreciate this.”

Classmate: “No problem. When I was on crutches, you were always the first to help. And besides, now I don’t have to wait to find out what I got wrong. Now, number 12?”

(Thanks to him, I finished the test in plenty of time, and aced it. He had only missed one, about the history of Gallaudet University, but the teacher gave him extra credit for helping me, so it evened out.)

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