Your Excuse Has Been Declined

(I’ve just finished ringing up a customer’s purchases, and now she’s swiping her card to pay. Unfortunately, it’s declined.)

Me: “Sorry, I’m afraid that didn’t go through. Did you maybe want to try it again?”

Customer: “Huh? I just picked this card up from the bank before coming here. It should work. It’s brand new.”

Me: “That’s weird. Try it again.”

(She tries again. Once again, it doesn’t work.)

Me: “No, sorry. It’s saying ‘contact bank.’ Are you sure it’s been activated?”

Customer: “Yes. As I said, I just got it. Set it up again.”

Me: “Okay.”

(She tries paying again. Once again it is declined.)

Customer: “Why is it being declined? It should work.”

Me: “I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe try going back to the bank and asking them. I’ll watch your shopping for you.”

(The bank in question is in the same shopping centre as my work, and roughly a two-minute walk away, so suggesting she quickly runs over there to find out what’s going on isn’t an unreasonable suggestion.)

Customer: “No. It’ll work. Let me try again.”

(Again she tries. Again it fails. Now she’s getting noticeably annoyed.)

Customer: “This is a new card. It should work. Why won’t you let it through?”

Me: “It’s not me. All I do is tell the register you’re paying by card, and you do the rest.”

Customer: “Well, then, it should work. Do it again, and make sure it isn’t rejected this time.”

(She ends up trying it about ten times in total, each time getting more and more annoyed at me, despite my insistence that it’s out of my power. Eventually, she gives up and pays cash, all the while muttering about how her card should work. She leaves, but ten minutes later she comes back with a smug look on her face.)

Customer: “Just so you know, I just used my new card to get money out of an ATM.”

Me: “Oh, good.”

Customer: “So, obviously, it was you that was the problem all along. Maybe keep that in mind next time you decide to reject my card and tell me it’s my fault.”

(D***, how could I have forgotten about ATMs? Now she could see right through my devious plan to stop her, a random 60-something-year-old woman whom I’d never met before, from paying for her groceries. Is it any wonder my heart now skips a panicked beat every time a customer’s card is rejected?)