So I've been reading over some of the stories on here, and finally decided I needed to contribute. So here is a tragic story of the stupidity, pretentiousness, and impolite behavior we all face on daily basis, all rolled into one.
I was having a pleasant day at the bookstore I slave away in for 20-30 hours every week. I was at the registers, doing my thing, when a woman comes up to my reg empty handed. I smiled and asked what I could do for her, and looking back, I'm wishing I had just walked away. There was no way for me to know this would be the longest transaction in the history of all transactions.
She says: You put a stack of books on hold for me a week ago.
Me: I can definitely check under your name to see if they're up here, but our policy says we can only hold books for twenty four hours.
Crazy Pretentious Bitch: You told me you could hold them till I came back into town this week.
Me: That's not our policy, however I understand that there may have been a misunderstanding. I'll check.
So I check to see if this lady's books are behind the counter even though I know they won't be. Alas, sometimes I hate when I'm right. So I oh so apologetically inform her that they are not here, but that I will gladly find someone to help her track down the books again. This is where it starts to get ridiculous. She glares at me and scoffs.
CPB: Well, what books were they?
I am speechless. I figure I must not be understanding the question. She can't possibly expect me to remember what books SHE put on hold a week ago. That can't possibly be it. I stare blankly at her for a moment while I try to grasp what other possible meanings that question could have.
I lie and tell her that I do in fact remember, but that this does not change the fact that our policy is that we only hold books for twenty four hours and that I have never told any customer anything different.
At this point, she is enraged. Why she can't remember a single book from the pile she had me put on hold is beyond me. Why she expects me to remember them if she can't is another story. I've held it together fairly well and, while I've lost my sugary smile, I am still calmly and politely dealing with her douchebaggery.
She grudgingly decides she will go look for the books, and with a sigh, I am content that the ordeal is over. Oh how I was wrong.
Me: ok, great! Can I see your card so I can scan it please?
Me: Well, I don't have the number on me, and our other associates are rather busy. If you'd like to start the process to start a new card, we can do that for you so that your future transactions will go much more smoothly.
Me: *staring blankly* ...ma'am I can't remember a sixteen digit number that we looked up a week ago.
Me: The process for looking up card numbers is very time consuming, and technically, we're not even suppose to do it. It's against our policy. We did it for you last time because we understood that you recently lost your card, however, it's not something we can do on a regular basis, and considering I can't remember sixteen digits from a week ago, I'm afraid I can't give you the discount.
CPB: -blah blah clinic of blah blah city-
After spending ten minutes sifting through possible matches to this company, she reads off the name of the company on the card, and the name of the holder.
I ask the woman if this is her name, and she glowers at me impatiently.
CPB: Why didn't I get a discount on *some fucking item*?
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