Wishing You Many Bad Returns  

, , , , | Right | January 22, 2020

(One evening, shortly after Black Friday, I am called to the customer service desk to speak with a customer. I am a woman, 5’6″ and barely 115 pounds. This man is over six feet tall and easily 200 pounds. We make eye contact and I smile at him. He glares.)

Me: “Hello, sir. You—”

Customer: “You the boss?”

Me: “Yes, sir, I am. How can I—”

Customer: “I’ve been waiting half a f****** hour for you.”

Me: *knowing he’s been standing there for maybe five minutes* “I apologize for the inconvenience. How can—”

Customer: “This lady over here disrespected me.” *points to our customer service rep*

Me: “Would you like to tell me what happened?”

Customer: “She disrespectful.”

Me: “Was it something she said or did or was—”

Customer: “She told me I can’t get my money back, said I did it too many times!”

Me: “Oh, I see. When a customer does three non-receipt returns within a rolling six months—”

Customer: “I don’t give a flying f*** what your system says. I want my money back.”

Me: *getting very annoyed* “Sir, I am trying to help you. I can overri—”

Customer: “No, you’re telling me why she’s right! Don’t talk to me like a [disabled slur].”

Me: “The system blocks returns when you do too many in a—”

Customer: “Nah, I didn’t—”

Me: “Six-month period. Now, I can—”

Customer: “Don’t talk over me! You interrupting and I’m trying to talk to you!” *steps in, a few inches from me, and jabs his finger in my chest* “You’re all disrespectful—”

Me: “Actually, I was talking first, so you were interrupting me. Now. I can override the system and force it to do a return.”

Customer: *suddenly a gentleman, stepping back* “Oh. I apologize, ma’am. Please forgive me for—”

Me: “However, you will not be doing anymore returns.” *smiles and gestures toward the exit* “Please leave.”

Customer: “F*** you, b****! What are you gonna do?”

Me: “I’m going to call the police in five seconds. You’ve been rude, tried to intimidate me, and sexually assaulted me when you poked me in the chest.”

Customer: “You don’t—”

Me: “One…”

Customer: “Don’t act like—”

Me: “Two…”

Customer: “F****** c*** can’t tell me s***!”

Me: “Three…” *I pull out my phone*

Customer: “Bulls***.”

Me: “Four…” *I put my phone to my ear*

Customer: “Man, f*** you and your p****-a** store!”

(He stormed out of the store. The customer service associate told me he wanted to return a blender that didn’t work anymore. If he hadn’t been so rude, I would have gladly helped him out.)

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