Your Hitting On Days Are Numbered

, , , , , | Right | June 10, 2019

(I work at a shipping store. Most of my job revolves around typing in shipping and return addresses. All information is saved under the customer’s phone number for future shipments. This transaction takes place during the Christmas season. The customer is a middle-aged woman.)

Me: “I can help whoever is next.”

Customer: “Yes, I need to ship this box to California.”

Me: “We can handle that. Looks like you need a shipping label, so can I start by getting your phone number?”

Customer: “…” *silently glaring at me*

Me: “Can I get your phone number, please?”

Customer: *with obvious annoyance* “You shouldn’t hit on people at work; it’s very rude.”

Me: *now a little wary* “I’m sorry, let me clarify. Our computer saves your name and address under your phone number for future shipments, so if you come back later we won’t have to type in all your information again.”

Customer: “No! You were hitting on me. I want to speak to the owner.”

Me: “If you insist. He’s right here.”

Owner: *has been listening the whole time* “He’s not lying; we need your number for our computer for contact info and future shipments.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous. Do you harass all your female customers like this?”

Owner: “Ma’am, we are trying to help, but we cannot ship your package without your information.”

Customer: “Bull! You are all a bunch of stalkers!”

Owner: “I’m sorry you feel that way, but if you’re not going to cooperate, then you need to leave. We are very busy today and I don’t have time for this.”

Customer: *now yelling* “This is insane! You’re all sexist pigs! You’ll be hearing from my lawyer you—“ *slew of insults and foul language*

Owner: “I’m done. Get the h*** out of my store and don’t come back.”

Customer: *turns and starts walking out*

Me: “Next customer over here!”

New Customer: *talking loudly so the first customer can hear* “MY NUMBER IS [Number].”

Me: *bursts out laughing* “Thank you for that. You just made my day!”

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