Cash Back Attack, Part 9

, , , , , | Right | November 11, 2019

(On a lazy Saturday afternoon, I’m on register duty when a couple comes in. The woman makes a beeline for me with a very angry look on her face.)

Woman: “You! Where’s the nearest ATM? I’ve been through this whole plaza and not one of them has an ATM!”

(The plaza I work in has four different restaurants and about five different shops. The bank we used to have closed years ago and the ATM went with it.)

Me: “I’m sorry to hear your troubles, ma’am, but the closest ATM is going to be across the street at [Gas Station #1] or [Gas Station #2]. Personally, I prefer [Gas Station #2] as they don’t charge withdrawal fees.”

Woman: “I don’t want to go across the street! That’ll take too long!”

Me: “Well, I’m sorry again, ma’am, but those are the only options I can think of.”

(The woman glares at me a minute and wanders back to her compatriot. They discuss something for a minute and she walks back to me, now with a smug look on her face.)

Woman: “You guys do cashback here, right?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. The options for cashback are $10, $20, or $40.”

Woman: “Any minimum I gotta pay?”

Me: “No, ma’am.”

(She nods and wordlessly grabs a candy bar and slams it onto my table. I ring her up and she goes through the cashback steps, selecting $40. The transaction finishes, the drawer opens, and as I’m grabbing her money, she says the following:)

Woman: “Give me $200.”

(I’m stunned for a moment, but I get the $40, close my drawer, and hand the money to her.)

Me: “No, ma’am. I’m not giving any money out that isn’t counted for on my till. You told it $40; you get $40.”

Woman: “But it’s my money! Just fix it when you count it later!”

Me: “I don’t know how you think cashback works, but that is certainly not how it operates here. Like I said a minute ago, you can head to one of the ATMs across the street if you need more cash.”

Woman: “You’re really gonna make me do this, aren’t you?”

(Before I can ask what she means, she grabs another candy bar and again slams it on my table. I check her out again and again, she gets $40. She proceeded to do five total transactions, totaling about $10 for candy, to pull out $200.)

Woman:That ought to teach you a thing or two.” 

(She then flounced out the door with her companion and candy bars. I just stared after her in silent rage and confusion.)

Related:
Cash Back Attack, Part 8
Cash Back Attack, Part 7
Cash Back Attack, Part 6

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Unfiltered Story #174574

, , | Unfiltered | November 3, 2019

(I overhear this conversation between my coworker and a customer as she’s finishing up ringing up his purchases)
Coworker: Alright sir, you’re all set. I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
Customer: Thanks, you too! I hope you live to see it!!
(The customer leaves and my coworker turns to me)
Coworker: Was that a threat or a genuine sentiment?
Me: I’m not entirely sure, but at least he said it with a smile??

Unfiltered Story #173073

, , , | Unfiltered | October 25, 2019

I’m an Resident Assistant in one of the dorms eating at a table with several other RAs at breakfast about 2 weeks into the fall semester. One of the freshman on my floor recognizes me and comes over to ask me a question. His neck is so bruised from hickeys that nearly a fourth of it’s surface area varies in shades of purple.

Resident: Is there any way I can get a different bed in my room? Mine is too squeaky and any little movement I make at night wakes up both my roommate and me.

Me (struggling to keep a straight face): I’m sorry but most of the beds here make some noise or another, but if it continues to be a problem you can put in a request with maintenance.

Entire table: *stares at him with a-how stupid do you think we are-look*

Other RA: Yeah, that’s probably not going to happen.

Unfiltered Story #172092

, , | Unfiltered | October 20, 2019

Guest: “Hey, can you give me four quarters for this dollar bill?”
Me: “Of course, sir. Just one moment.”
(A brief pause as I open the till and make some change.)
Guest: “It’s for the vending machine.”
Me: “I understand, sir.”
(Another brief pause as I count out the quarters and close the till.)
Guest: “It takes quarters.”
Me: ” . . . “

Making A Speedy Diagnosis

, , , , , | Working | October 8, 2019

(In this story, everyone is wrong, but I’m putting it here because this was all started by my stupidity. My family owns property in West Virginia and we frequently make the six-hour drive for weekends and such. Usually, we take my father’s truck as it handles the mountains well, but my boyfriend and I need to drive separately so we take his tiny little car, instead. There are heavy winds and the car starts making strange sounds and having trouble making it up the hills. We finally decide to stop off at a repair shop to get it checked out.)

Mechanic: “What can I help you with today?”

Me: “Our car is really struggling up hills and making odd sounds. We were wondering if you could figure out what’s going on?”

Mechanic: “Well, mind if we all go for a ride?”

Me: “That’s fine!”

(We hand over the keys and all hop in the car with the mechanic driving. He proceeds down a very narrow and busy backroad overlooking a steep mountain drop. He proceeds to go 90 in a 55, zipping around all traffic using the oncoming lane and what little shoulder there is. He floors the car at every hill and the car flies up each one.)

Mechanic: *nonchalantly* “Yeah, your problem is that you weren’t giving her enough gas. You just need to push it a little on these hills. The car can handle it.”

(Miraculously, we made it back after the longest ten minutes of my life. We tipped the man and made it the rest of the drive without incident. Now I’ve learned to never let a stranger drive my car, even if they are a mechanic trying to diagnose a problem.)

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