Vitamin(imum) Return Period

, , , | Right | July 31, 2018

(A woman comes in, rattling a bottle, and goes straight to the my register.)

Customer: “I need to return this.”

Me: “Okay; I just need to ask why, and we’ll get started!”

Customer: “These vitamins contain [obscure ingredient], and I’m not putting it in my body.”

(It now becomes pertinent that our entire chain stopped selling vitamins over a year prior to this story.)

Me: “Well, I’m not sure if I can help or not, with something purchased so long ago. Do you have your receipt?”

Customer: “No, I don’t. Are you saying you won’t stand by your product?”

Me: “The problem is I don’t know how much to refund you, and it was purchased a very long time ago.”

(I try to ring up the bottle, but of course I get “item not found.”)

Me: “At this point, I’m not able to refund this. It doesn’t appear in our system, and you don’t have a receipt.”

Customer: “So, you won’t stand by your product.”

Me: “I literally cannot ring it up.”

Customer: “So, you won’t stand by your product.”

(This goes on until a manager gets involved and decides to give her a gift card just to get rid of her.)

Me: “Ma’am, do you have any idea how much you paid for this?”

Customer: “$4.99.”

(When it was all over, my manager and I looked at each other and burst out laughing over this woman raising a fifteen-minute confrontation over five dollars she spent a year ago.)

On Their Coat-Tails

, , , , , | Right | July 26, 2018

(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.)

In Receipt Of Every Complaint

, , , , , , | Right | July 23, 2018

(We are the customers in this story. My husband and I are rushing to pick up some last minute props for our maternity photoshoot. We are next in line behind an older lady with a very unhappy look on her face.)

Cashier: *politely* “Receipt in the bag okay for you, ma’am?”

Customer: *abruptly* “NO! It is absolutely not okay!”

(She then goes on to mumble into her purse as she slowly folds the receipt, about how everything in the store was horrible; it was too crowded, and the music was too loud. It is 10:30 am on a Saturday, there is barely anyone in the store, and you can barely hear the soft music.)

Cashier: “Have a nice day!”

(The customer waves her off and stomped away.)

Me: “Well, that was different.”

Husband: “And you stayed smiling the entire time! How did you manage that?”

Cashier: “Oh, you wouldn’t believe the things we see in here sometimes.”

(There are some individually-wrapped chocolates at the cash register. I pick one up and add it to the pile, intending to surprise the cashier with it. My husband then picks it up and makes like he’s unwrapping it.)

Me: “NO! Put that back. It’s not for you; it’s for this nice girl for dealing with that horrible lady and keeping a smile on her face.”

Cashier: “Oh, thank you so much!”

(She brightened considerably and looked a little happier as we leave. Hubby still couldn’t believe how rude the lady was. Sadly, having been a bartender, I can totally believe it.)

What About The Slightly-Vexed Chicken?

, , , , , | Learning | July 23, 2018

(In our sophomore year of high school, we have to take Driver’s Ed classroom instruction for one of the four quarters in our P.E. class. Mostly, we watch educational films on the topic and then discuss them. Some mornings, our teacher will come in with an anecdote to share of some horrible thing he witnessed during his morning commute.)

Teacher: “All right class, today I have a very important lesson for you. This is possibly the most important one I will ever teach, so pay attention!”

(We all sit up a little straighter.)

Teacher: “If, for some reason, you are ever in a situation where another driver is confronting you outside your vehicles, DON’T. DO. The ANGRY. CHICKEN!”

Classmate: “The what?”

Teacher: “You know, the Angry Chicken.” *suddenly thrusts his chest out, palms forward, but with his hands down and behind him* “What? WHAT?! You know, like that. The Angry Chicken.”

Classmate #2: “Why not?”

Teacher: “Because it’s stupid. Not only do you look like an idiot, but you’re going to piss the other guy off, and your hands are all the way back here, where they can’t do any good. He’s going to knock you flat before you can do a thing about it.”

Classmate #3: “So, what should we do, then?”

Teacher: “Ideally, not get into a confrontation outside your car. But, if needs must, keep your hands up and in front of you, so can actually block a punch if he throws one.” *brings his hands up about a foot in front of and to either side of his face, palms toward himself* “What? WHAT?! Like that.”

(It’s been more than a decade since I took his class, but I will never forget that one lesson: don’t do the Angry Chicken!)

Usually It Means The Opposite

, , , , | Learning | July 23, 2018

(At church camp one year, I’m a small group leader for the fourth- and fifth-grade girls. We get paired up with the boys for crafts and games. One day, when we’re doing the craft, this happens. They’re making something with beads, and each color represents something.)

Craft Leader: *holds up white bead* “Who knows what white stands for?”

Kids: “Purity.”

Craft Leader: “Does anyone know what purity means?”

Boy: “Is that when your start to grow hair, and your body starts changing and stuff?”

(Cue every adult in the room trying not to laugh.)

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