Posting A New Romance Update

, , , , | Romantic | June 5, 2017

Boyfriend: *whispering in my ear* “I love you with all of my heart.”

Me: “I love you with all of my heart, too.”

Boyfriend: “You know why I whispered it?”

Me: “No, why?”

Boyfriend: “Because I wanted to tell the whole world and you’re my world.”

Me: *playfully hits him in the arm* “You’re so sappy, it’s sweet.”

Boyfriend: *ruining the moment* “I found it on Facebook.”

Unfiltered Story #89005

, , , | Unfiltered | June 3, 2017

I was attending a convention in Seattle in which the convention staff wore blue shirts with “STAFF” printed on them in large, bold letters. Unknowing of this, I had also chosen to wear a blue shirt, although of a different color.

Throughout the day, I repeatedly had other attendees come up to me and start asking me questions, thinking I was among the staff.

One exchange in particular stood out to me:

Attendee: “Hey, do you know when [name] is doing autographs?”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t know that. If you ask someone from staff, they might be able to tell you though.”

Attendee: “But you’re staff! You should know these things! It’s you’re job!”

Me: “I’m not staff, but if you go down the stairs, cross over to the other building, and look for the Answer Desk room there, they should be able to-”

Attendee: (suddenly realizes) “Oh, I’m sorry! You’re not staff, are you? Sorry to bother you.”

(As a staff member had just come around the corner, I was able to refer the other attendee to them. I hope they got their question answered!)

Unfiltered Story #88669

, , | Unfiltered | May 30, 2017

(Working as a cashier/clerk at a pharmacy/store, I used to also do the stocking weekly. This happened when my manager and I were in the cold care aisle.)

Customer #1: *heavily accented English* “Excuse me, do you have toilet?”

Manager: “A bathroom? Yes; it’s on that end of the store.”

Customer #1: “No! Not bathroom! TOILET!”

Me: “Sir, are you asking for our restroom? Or a product?”

Customer #1: “Yes! TOILET!” *holds up bottle of body powder* “TOILET! TOILET!”

(My manager has excused herself to another aisle where I can hear her muffled, confused laughter. Another customer has been observing and realises what is trying to be said:)

Customer #2: “EAU DE TOILETTE!! Eau de toilette!”

Me: “Right this way, sirs.”

Gift Carded And Dearly Departed

, , , , , , | Hopeless | September 20, 2013

(I am working as an assistant manager at a retail store. A customer comes in while it is slow, so I am able to pay a lot of attention to her, and find her exactly what she wants.)

Customer: “Is it okay to pay by gift card?”

Me: “Of course.”

(I start ringing her in.)

Customer: “I hate to use it, though.”

Me: “Oh, really? Why is that?”

Customer: “My mom gave it to me for my last birthday, and she passed away two months ago.”

(I pause for a moment to make eye contact with her.)

Me: “I’m so sorry to hear that. I lost my own mom a little over a year ago, so I know what you’re going through.”

Customer: “Oh! I guess you do understand, then. Does it get easier?”

Me: “No. I still miss her horribly, and still want to pick up the phone and call her every single day. But I suppose I’m not as raw as I was. You’ll get to that point, too, though you’ll always miss her.”

Customer: “Yeah…”

(I finish ringing her up, and swipe her gift card, which pays for everything. Afterwards, I bring her bag around the counter for her, and hand it to her.)

Customer: “Can I… Can I make a really strange request?”

Me: “Sure.”

Customer: “Can I keep the gift card?”

Me: “Oh, of course you can!”

(I hand it to her. She puts it back in the envelope that bears her name, and caresses it. I can see she’s on the verge of tears.)

Me: “Right before my mom died, she gave me the package she never sent me for my birthday, which had some Avon perfume in it. I like the perfume, but I hardly ever use it, because I don’t want to have to throw away one of the last things she ever gave me.”

Customer: “Oh, so you completely understand why I want to keep this!”

Me: *eyes filling with tears* “Oh, yes, ma’am, completely!”

(We wind up chatting for close to 45 minutes, sharing stories about our moms. By the end of it, we’re both crying openly, but they’re good tears.)

Customer: “I’ve taken up so much of your time; I’m sorry.”

Me: “No, don’t apologize. I’m so glad you came in, and that you were willing to share with me!”

Customer: “Can I… Can I hug you?”

Me: “Of course you can!”

(We hugged for a long time, with both of us still crying. She thanked me profusely, and vowed to come back and ask for me especially. I never did see her again, as I quit not long after that, but it was a wonderful experience. I hope wherever she is, her grief has become less raw than it was when I saw her. I’ll always, always remember her as being one of the best customers I ever had.)

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When Two Wrongs Make It Right

, , , , | Right | December 5, 2010

(The night previous we had a customer shoplift about $300 worth of merchandise while I was on shift. Thankfully, while she did get away with quite a bit, she escaped with only one boot of a pair, as I had removed the second boot, with ink tag intact, pending acceptance of her check.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. What can we help you find today?”

Caller: “Hi! I was at your store last night and the lady that helped me shorted us a shoe!”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What style was it?”

Caller: “A [Brand]. It was the right shoe. She was going to take the tag off and never did! I live far away, so do you think you could transfer it to the [Different Location] store?”

Me: “I don’t believe that would be feasible as we don’t have a way to get it to that store, but we might be able to mail it to you! Can I get your name, phone number, and address?”

Caller: “Sure. It is [Name, number, and address].”

(I got off the phone looking like the Cheshire Cat. The thief had just given her full name, phone number, and address.)

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