Time For Her To Roll On Out Of There

, , , , | Right | November 25, 2020

My place of employment isn’t a regular ice cream store; we serve rolled ice cream, the kind you find under travel videos to South East Asia. I’ve worked at this establishment for almost a year now, so I kind of do the duties of a manager without the title.

Since it is still our slow season, I’m by myself in the store

A woman comes in.

Customer: “So, you guys opened up a location here now?”

Me: “I’m not sure I follow, ma’am.”

Customer: “You’re a rolled ice cream place, right?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Customer: “That’s what I thought.”

She places her order, and I make her ice cream and hand it to her.

Me: “Here you go, ma’am.”

Customer: *Disgusted* “That’s not what I ordered!”

Me: *Confused* “Oh, I’m sorry. What did you order?”

Customer: “I ordered the [number]!”

Me: “Oh, yes, ma’am, this is the [number].”

Customer: “No, it’s not! That doesn’t look like what I ordered at [Competitor]!”

I realize what she’s talking about now.

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am, they are a franchise. We don’t offer the same things they do. We are an independent store.”

Customer: “Bulls***! You both have rolled ice cream!”

Me: “Ma’am, I have neither their ingredients nor know-how, nor can I legally do what they do. I can refund your money or remake another ice cream.”

Customer: “Ugh! I know what I want! I demand the manager! You should be fired!”

Me: “The manager?”

Customer: “Yes! Are you stupid, as well?”

I keep my composure as I calmly look all around, as the store is literally one open room. I then take a step away from the counter, make a 360, and step forward again.

Me: “Hi there. I’m the manager of this store. What seems to be the trouble?”

She realized what she’d said and turned cherry red. She wound up storming out of the store without the ice cream or a refund, so I ate the ice cream.

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