Has A Very Questionable Solution

, , , | Right | June 11, 2017

(I work at a store where everything rings up at full price until I total it all. Then, the sales prices are used. A customer kept comparing her list to what I had on the screen and claiming it wasn’t matching up. I had a very long line of customers and was doing my best to assure her she was getting the best sales on all of her items. The customer behind her was an old man. I started to ring out his cart.)

Customer: “What was she asking you all of those questions for?”

Me: “Well, our sales prices don’t show up until I hit the total button, so she was confused when everything rang up full price.”

Customer: “Did she need to take up ten minutes comparing? Jesus, we should take everyone who asks questions, gather ’em up, and just SHOOT ‘EM!”

Me: *looks extremely uncomfortable and continues scanning*

Customer: “RIGHT?”

Me: *still continues scanning and doesn’t look up*

All Sugar And No Sweetness

, , , , , , | Right | June 7, 2017

(I work for a large chain retail store as a cashier. A customer and her daughter come to my line and unload their groceries. A bag of sugar is in the middle of her items. I get to the sugar.)

Customer: Oh, no, don’t scan that yet! There’s a hole in the top of the bag!

Me: *inspects the bag carefully for a while until I finally find perhaps the tiniest hole I’ve ever seen* “Okay, I see what you mean. I’m sorry about this; would you like to go and get a new bag while I scan the rest of your items?”

Customer: “H*** no! You have to get me a new bag yourself! It’s your d*** job!”

(A Customer Service Manager, or CSM, has to be the one to go back and replace the item. However, it’s an extremely busy day and half of them are already on the registers, so it takes a bit for one to show up. During this time, the daughter repeatedly offers to go get the new bag, but the mother refuses.)

CSM: *finally shows up* “Ma’am, are you sure you wouldn’t like your daughter to go get the bag?”

Customer: “IT HAS TO BE YOU! IT’S YOUR JOB!”

(The CSM leaves to get the sugar, while I continue to scan the rest of the items. The customer refuses to let me scan the bag of sugar, stating she won’t pay for the ‘tainted’ bag even if she gets a ‘fresh’ one. The code is the same for the sugar anyway, which I try to explain, but she won’t have any of it. Eventually the CSM comes back and I finish the transaction. A couple hours later, the daughter comes through my line again.)

Customer’s Daughter: “Hi, I wanted to apologize for my mom’s behavior before. She knew about the hole the entire time and she just wanted to make a scene. She said, and I quote, ‘I wanted to show them what a white ghetto b**** is.’”

Desperado To Make A Scene

, , , , , | Right | June 5, 2017

(It’s a really busy Saturday evening shift in my bar and I am ten-hours deep into a twelve-hour shift. A group of women arrive at the bar and my colleague begins to serve them. It’s her first shift so I keep half an eye on her, even though I am busy dealing with my own customers. I notice the women muttering amongst themselves and giving dirty looks to my colleague as she is ringing their order through the till. I finish up with my own customers and approach them.)

Me: “Hello! Can I help you at all?”

Customer #1: “I’ve been served THIS and I asked for a Desperados and a lime and soda. She’s put it all in the same glass.”

Me: “Oh, I’m really sorry about that madam; I’ll get new drinks for you right away.”

(I serve her the drinks and as my colleague realises her mistake we all laugh about it together. Everything seems rectified. Then, a second woman comes forward and slams down the Desperados I have dispensed into a plastic glass for her, as is our company’s policy after 10 pm.)

Customer #2: “What the f*** is this?”

Me: “It’s a Desperados.”

Customer #2: “Well, I want the bottle.”

Me: “Unfortunately it’s our policy that we don’t serve glass after 10 pm. We have to dispense all the bottles into—”

Customer #2: “Well, she could have f***ing told me!”

Me: “I understand. It’s my colleague’s first shift and I will ask her to remind customers of our policy in future. Can I get you another—”

Customer #2: “I never saw her pour it, so how do I even know it’s a Desperados?”

Me: “Well, you weren’t at the bar, so no, I expect you didn’t.”

Customer #2: “Listen, your mate—” *pointing in my face* “—served my friend the wrong drink and now this!”

(I’ve lost my rag now.)

Me: “Look, if you’re that bothered, I’ll pour you a new one.”

(I pour her a Desperados, making a huge show of showing her the label, and gesturing grandly as I set the drink down.)

Me: “Would you like a lime, madam?”

(These customers have obviously never been spoken to sarcastically by someone serving them, and their mouths drop. Customer #2 leans over the bar towards me.)

Customer #2: “How dare you not show me any respect! You need to learn some customer service skills!”

Me: “Respect is a two way street, and nice people get nice service. Have a lovely night.”

(They complained and wrote a s***ty review on Facebook; however, I’d already explained to the manager what a***-holes they were and he reviewed the CCTV which showed their intimidating and threatening body language towards me. We ‘liked’ the review, and commented, “Thank you for your review. We would like to remind you and all of our customers that our staff are human beings and deserve to be spoken to as such. Therefore, you are no longer welcome in our bar.”)

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School Can Teach You Life Lessons

, , | Miami, FL, USA | Learning | May 15, 2017

(I’m on weekend cruise which is a little different: it’s a music cruise with concerts all weekend, headlined by a famous Irish-American punk band. Also, it’s St. Patrick’s Day. Around three o’clock:)

Announcement Over The PA: “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome aboard the ship. We would like to remind you that we will be sailing at 5:00 pm and there will be a safety drill at 4:30. Thank you!”

(At four o’clock:)

Announcement Over The PA: “Hello again, everyone! Just a reminder that there will be a safety drill in half an hour. In the interests of… keeping everyone focused, there will be no alcohol service until after the drill. Repeat, all alcohol service is CLOSED until after the safety drill.”

(At 4:30, my friends and I truck up to our muster station. We’re sober; the same can’t be said for everyone else in our muster group of about thirty or forty people, all of whom are talking and laughing and completely ignoring the young employee trying to get their attention.)

Employee: “All right, everyone! We’re going to go over– Everybody? Guys?”

Cruise-Goer #1: “WHOOO! [PUNK BAND] ROCKS!”

(Various other people are cheering.)

Employee: “Uh, yeah, so if we could just—”

Cruise-Goer #2: *to [My Friend]* “You’re pretty! Are you with this dude? Wanna ditch him? I guarantee, I’ve—”

Employee: “Hello?!”

My Friend: “Clap once if you can hear me!” *claps her hands*  

(A few people also clap.)

My Friend: “Clap twice if you can hear me!” *claps twice*

(A few more people join in.)

My Friend: “Clap three times if you can hear me!” *claps three times*

(And so on. After five claps, the group settles down enough for a headcount and a quick safety lecture before streaming back to the bar.)

Employee: *to [My Friend]* “Thanks for helping out.”

My Friend: “No problem. I’m a high school teacher, so I know how frustrating it is when no one will f****** listen to you and you wanna stab them in the f****** face.” *to me* “Let’s go get a beer and see if we can find [Lead Singer]. Maybe he’ll sign my boobs.”

Employee: “I’m not sure whether to pity or envy your students…”

Desist The Tourist Assist

, , , , | Bali, Indonesia | Right | October 6, 2014

(I’m Indonesian and I live in an area where there are lots of tourists. Being Bali itself, there are barely any traffic laws enforced and lots of tourists tend to rent out scooters and treat them like toys. I’m turning into my favorite restaurant at a T-junction with no red light and my blinkers on, and today I felt like being extra cautious since the scooter I borrowed is my friend’s. I slow down and see a tourist and her son far away in the opposite direction but as I cross from the other side of the street, I see her actually speed up in her attempt to pass me when clearly there is a hump coming up. It’s rainy season so the roads are wet and of course when she tries to brake while going 40 miles/hour the bike violently slides. I am watching the whole thing since I have already parked my motorbike. Luckily no one was badly hurt.)

Me: “Are you all right, lady?”

Tourist: “This is your fault, you stupid girl! That was an illegal turn!”

Me: “Well, no, that wasn’t illegal. This is a two-way road.”

Tourist: “You apologize and you go pay for my bike!”

Me: “No, you were going too fast on rainy day. I had my blinkers on and clearly about to turn in. I saw you and you were far away.”

Tourist: “I don’t care! I have an international license!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but that doesn’t mean anything, especially when you drive like that! I’m sorry this happened though. I suggest you go to the mechanics. They’ll fix up the scratches and it’s really cheap. Don’t go to the place where you rented the bike or they’ll make you pay $100.”

Tourist: “So you admit it? It’s your fault!”

Me: “I meant sorry this had to happen to you, not sorry my bad. Lady, I did nothing wrong. In fact I was actually trying to help you out!”

Tourist: “No, this is your fault! You owe me money! YOU OWE ME MONEY!”

(I look at the bike, it’s brand new but with a few scratches because of the crash. While the argument just goes back and forth, her son is clearly huddled under a tree crying and also he was wearing NO helmet while riding on the back with his mother.)

Tourist: “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! WHY DID YOU DO THAT? YOU OWE ME MONEY OR I’LL CALL THE COPS!”

Me: “Lady, go ahead. I’m not worried. But clearly the money seems more important to you than your son who could be injured.”

(She looks at her son who is in shock. She asks him if he’s all right and takes a second to check for any bleeding and then goes back to me.)

Me: “If you’d like I can point you towards the closest hospital or clinic.”

Tourist: “NO! You owe me money! You are just a stupid girl! I’m calling the cops! Give me your address, phone number, and the money!”

Me: “Lady, I have no money! Not on me and certainly not enough in the bank and if I did I wouldn’t give any of it to you! I’ve offered to go to the mechanics with you but I’m not paying a cent for your own negligence! I’m a painter, lady! I’m broke!”

Tourist: “Well, I’m broke, too!”

Me: “Right, you’re so broke you rented a brand new bike during your vacation in Bali. Here let me call the police for you.”

(At this point I decided to call my boyfriend’s mom, a cop who is head of the district we’re in. As I’m calling I began to tear up a bit from all the frustration. I wait on the phone for a good five minutes until the tourist gave up and asked me for my number to show her a good mechanic. And after that full hour of arguing, she didn’t even feel it important enough follow through on the mechanic BECAUSE SHE WAS LATE FOR A MASSAGE!)

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