 | | Why Would You DO THAT?!
| Posted by Alucard on Thursday, May 08 @ 00:15:26 EDT (139 reads)
Gregorius writes "Bear in mind that this story has been edited and censored quite a bit from the true events that happened.
I started work for a video game store not even a month ago, but this is likely the worst example of a customer that we will ever get (or never again get). This 40-some-year-old, tall, Ukrainian woman came out Friday to buy a PSP for her son's birthday, a couple of games-- hey, what the hell? The kid was pretty good, he deserved it. That was before I figured out what the family of that woman was like.
The broad came back today. She came back with her sons and her husband. They put that poor, poor gaming system through hell and back. They:
- slaughtered the packaging for the PSP;
- scratched the games beyond recognition;
- destroyed the cases and tore the instruction manuals for the game; and
- had the gall to ask for a full cash refund. YEAH... F***ING... RIGHT.
"
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Take the short bus to Target
| Posted by Alucard on Tuesday, May 06 @ 23:25:30 EDT (189 reads)
easilyirritated writes "So one day at Target I had a woman who was off to the side looking at the menu, not in line but just kind of pensive at the side lines. Another guest then comes and grabs a pizza so I can ring her up, which I do in about ten seconds. Then all hell breaks loose:
Lady: Excuse me, didn't you see I was waiting in line?
Me: I'm so sorry maam, I thought you were still trying to decide what you wanted to order and didn't want to disturb you. How can I help you today?
Lady: I don't like your attitude. If you don't know how to deal with people you shouldn't be working here.
Me: Maam, I've been working here almost two years and I assure you I know how to work with people.
Lady: Don't talk back to me, let me speak to you manager.
"
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What's this size?
| Posted by Alucard on Monday, May 05 @ 23:06:19 EDT (130 reads)
easilyirritated writes "First post, here it goes.
I work at Disneyland, which I love most of the time. One day, I had a guest who held up a shirt to me and asked what sizes they were. I was a bit confused as to what she meant because the sizes are right there on the tag. So I responded that they were small, medium, and so on. She then elaborated and asked for the age that coresponded with each size. I said I didn't know, that it just depended on the size on the child. I asked her how old the child was so that I could get a better feel for the possible size. She responded that she really wanted to know the correct correlation of sizes to age because she didn't want to get the wrong size. I thought it was kind of stupid because even if I knew the ages for each size, it doesn't really matter because if your kid is a fatty at age 4, he's not going to fit into a small. I asked a couple of fellow castmembers who also didn't know and then decided to look in this folder we have with info on just about everything. All the while I was trying to rationalize thinking maybe she was shopping for a child who she hadn't seen in a while maybe. I found what she was looking for and showed it to her. She told me that they had gotten tired of waiting and just started trying them on. So there were a shitload of shirts everywhere. So, this lady is basically telling me that she's fucking stupid because with your child right there she can't figure out what size to get them. What mother doesn't know their child's size? Dad's maybe get a bit of lee-way, but mom's? I was really irritated as I waited around for ten minutes for her to leave so I couuld fix everything that she had messed up. Stupid fucking lady"
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Customers need to learn to read the signs
| Posted by Alucard on Sunday, May 04 @ 21:51:44 EDT (246 reads)
sweetamandapie writes "There is a regular customer that comes into the store I work at. She comes in at least once a week and always complains. She comes up to the register with a cart full of merchandise and wants the cashiers to verify price every item then sits there for 10 minutes deciding what she wants and then has the cashiers actually ring her up. And of course, after being rang up, there is some sort of complaint. Well today she took the cake with her annoyingness.
I noticed her walk in the back of the store talking to one of our newest employees who had a price gun out pricing every beloved item for her. She then put it in her cart and went to the next aisle. As she went to check out she started off by telling the cashier how the last time she was in the store she was over charged by $25 and that she had called corporate on us and that this cashier better not mess anything up. So the cashier started to ring her up and "redheaded white trash" (rwt from here on..) told her "that's not right."
"
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599 Missing Puzzle Pieces
| Posted by Alucard on Thursday, May 01 @ 23:05:59 EDT (285 reads)
yourpalpete writes "
The blog of my book:Surviving Retail
For as much as I have bitched about working in the toy store in my book and on my blog, the customers there were great people-for the most part. But many were deeply afflicted by that disease that retail workers dread: Entitle-itis. They feel "entitled" to ask for the impossible of people they willfully treat like shit. There are dozens of such stories from the toy store, it makes up about a third of the book.
Once a squat elderly lady came in with a puzzle to return.
“This is missing a piece,” she said, handing me the box. I notice immediately that the box was unusually light; the puzzle was actually missing all the pieces, the box was completely empty. I asked her where the rest of the puzzle was, and she answered like that question was a lot stupider than it sounded to me.
“It’s at home, it's all put together, where did you think it was?”
"
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Beware the Axe
| Posted by Alucard on Sunday, April 27 @ 23:24:17 EDT (307 reads)
eusuchian writes "Today's story is not my own from the bookstore...it comes courtesy of the manager of the office supply store next door. "Norm" (not his real name), comes to our cafe most days for coffee, and he gave me permission to post this.
Last week Norm was called to customer service because a customer wanted to return a safe he had purchased recently. This happens from time to time, perhaps because the lock doesn't work properly, or some similar reason. This was a different problem.
It seems that while the customer wasn't home, someone dragged the safe out into the customer's yard and used an axe to smash open the back. So now the customer wanted a refund.
Norm explained that this isn't a defect with the safe and that it's not supposed to be impenetrable, but the customer was following a different line of reasoning. "But it's a safe," he said. "It's supposed to keep my things safe!"
When Norm suggested that he might consider contacting the manufacturer to see if the safe was covered by their warranty, the customer still wasn't convinced. "If it was a chair and it fell apart when I sat on it, you would take it back."
Of course, Norm pointed out that he would not take the chair back if someone had taken an axe to it.
So what about you? Does your store guarantee products against axe damage? That's what I thought."
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My friend Nary
| Posted by Alucard on Friday, April 25 @ 00:47:23 EDT (405 reads)
Anonymous writes "“Thank you for calling Bountiful Pizza Hut my name is Veronica how can I help you?”
“What was your name again just in case I have any problems?”
Ok not exactly the way I would start a conversation but oh well. And she starts giving me her order. Well to get into the order screen you need the customer’s info so I interrupt her and ask if this will be for carryout or delivery and she yells at me because she wasn’t done yet. So I wait until she finishes her order and ask her again, and she tells me to repeat her order back to her I calmly explain that I need to know if it will be carry out or delivery before I can take her order, and she screams that now she’s forgotten what she wanted and why couldn’t I just tell her I needed her info at first. And I ask her again will this be for carry out or delivery finally she tells me delivery so then she goes off on her order so I interrupt her again asking for her phone number she says it really fast and then goes off again on her order, I’m tell her that I’m terrible sorry but could you repeat that? And when you have to re type it you have to get back into the screen and that can take awhile. And she sighed all dramatically and says every number really really slowly. She gives me an 808 number and our computer only likes some area codes so I try it and it tells me no.
"
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WornOutKnees
| Posted by Alucard on Thursday, April 24 @ 00:15:55 EDT (447 reads)
Anonymous writes "I was management in an underperforming store. Payroll was so tight, I had to do the jobs of several people. I was working twelve-hour shifts, and constantly on the run. There was a regular customer, a little old lady, that always needled me for my efforts. "Working hard?", she would say sarcastically, when sweat was dripping from the tip of my nose. She'd later have a clerk page me to the opposite side of the store, just to sweetly ask for an item's location. When I would ask the clerk why I was paged, the clerk would respond that she insisted on speaking to the manager, and was huffy about it. She would have me paged to the front whenever she couldn't find me on the salesfloor, just to ask for an item's location. My frontdesk crew would later tell me that she had said she wanted to make a complaint. This went on for over a year, same items, same ruses, often with little snide remarks delivered with a practiced innocence. The old gal kept me hopping on her every visit.
One day, there was someone accompanying her while she shopped. The pair had a strong family resemblance. I retreated to a place where they couldn't see me, but I could watch them. When they separated by each taking a different aisle, I made my move. Approaching the man and introducing myself, I complimented him for helping the elderly with their shopping. He stated that he was her son. I expressed great relief, explaining that she was often confused and forgetful while shopping. He became quite concerned as I recounted in detail how she couldn't remember where the same items were located, week after week. He profusely thanked me for watching out for her.
Three days later, she tracked me down on the salesfloor. Gone was the smirk and phony sweetness. Her eyes were flinty with rage, and her little hands were balled into trembling fists. Her voice was cold and measured. She said, "You told my son I was senile, and now he's putting me in a nursing home! You knew I was just having fun with you!" I told her that I was sorry to lose her as a customer, and thanked her for shopping with us."
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