There are times when there isn't much on a gift card, and some store policies state that the customer can't get cash back on them.
I always use that as an opportunity to sell something more, like a candy or something. And when that fails, they generally just leave the small amount on the gift card with the cashier because they “live two hours away."
After a few weeks running cash after Christmas, you can really treat yourself that way!
Just be careful though... even through they're abandoned, and you're using them for store products, some places still consider it "stealing."
Okay, seriously, FUCK VISA GIFT CARDS! No one EVER remembers how much they've got left on them, and you can only use one per transaction.
Some entitled bitch came in with nothing but Visa gift cards to pay with, and kept insisting that she had paid with more than one at a time "the other day" at our store.
NO YOU DIDN'T. YOU ARE LYING.
And because she kept insisting this, and hadn't brought any money or a credit card, she stood there forever being pissy while we explained the same things over and over slooowly and re-rang her things through.
And her little brat kept whining that she was bored.
Urge to kill was indeed rising.
One of the headaches of Hell Mart gift cards is that they're more like a credit card than a gift card; if you don't know the exact amount, it will be declined rather than simply put toward the total. When I run into this issue, the very first thing I do is ask them if they know how much is left on it, or if it's new, what the balance is on the card.
If they say no, I simply explain to them that they're going to have to call the number to find out the balance, before I can process it on their transaction. I tell them that there's no way for me to check, because Hell Mart's system isn't designed to do that.
Then I suspend the transaction before they can start anything, hand them the receipt they need, and tell them when they find out the balance, hand it to any cashier, and they'll finish processing the transaction. Until then, their items will be on hold in Customer Service until midnight.
It's a bit pushy yeah, and I thought for sure I'd get in trouble if I ever got caught, but it turns out that our zone manager found out about it, and now wants that to be the required way we handle those type of transactions, as it keeps the lines moving... go figure.
Hey RHU! My name's Cube, and I am a big fan of the site, despite being a Chronic Custy at the moment.
So, I figured I'd submit a tale from the other side of the counter. Allow me to tell you the tale of how one Nasty Ass Thief tried stealing a birthday present right from under our noses.
It was about five years ago. I was a sophomore in high school at the time, and my younger brother (who I shall refer to as Skipper, as he is currently payed to pretend to be one on a certain ride with a certain shark at a certain theme park) and I were going to purchase a birthday present for our father at a store I'll call Dartboard for now.
Now, Daddy Dearest is notoriously difficult to shop for, so Skipper and I decided we would go with a Dartboard Gift Card. Better than a tie, at least. So we spend some time in the Card Aisle, looking for a birthday card that'll make the old man chuckle a bit when we go to see him. Having figured all that out, we headed to the checkout lanes, grabbed a gift card from the rack, and game face to face with a with a rather rotund cashier. We place the birthday card and gift card on the counter, and get ready for checkout.
At this point, I roll a natural twenty on my spot check, and notice the cashier has two identical gift cards in her hand.
Me: Uh, hey? Why do you have two gift cards in your hand?
Cashier: Oh, I jus' gotta do this to put em' through the system, ya know?
Me: ...Just make sure you give us the right one, okay?
Now, I consulted with Skipper, who was a retail slave at the local Grocery Store, and he told me that cashiers have to do weird stuff like this all the time. That didn't stop me from being a bit suspicious. Still, I am a trusting soul. I figured she wouldn't steal from a pair of young teens. Especially not considering the fact that they had a brightly colored card on the counter that read "Happy Birthday" on it. Since, you know, stealing fifty bucks from a pair of kids is kind of one of the douchiest things you can possibly do. Still, I held onto the receipt.
So, cut forward about a week, we had given our Dad the gift, and he decided to head over to the local Dartboard to pick up some stuff. We get to the counter, he pulls out the gift card, this cashier swipes it. And then...
"I'm sorry sir, this card was never activated."
... That bitch stole fifty bucks from a pair of kids.
Cue a trip back to the Dartboard where this NAT worked, receipt in hand. The good news is that everyone else at Dartboard was super helpful, especially with the Incriminating Slip as evidence.
As for the NAT, as far as I know she got thrown out on her ass. We got our gift card returned, and all was right with the world. Hell, five years later and I'm applying for some part time work there while I go to college.
I do wonder what happened to that NAT though. I wonder what she did with that gift card?
--Cube the Chronic Custy
Greetings, RHU! Long-time reader, first-time poster. My coworker and girlfriend Cou has had a few things posted here, and I think it's my turn to join in the fun.
I work at a small card and gift store that my grandparents opened almost 20 years ago. My grandpa died in 1998, but my grandma still runs it along with my mother.
Our customer base is mainly comprised of: old people that think they're better people than me just because they've managed to keep breathing for 70 straight years (this was especially fun when I started running the registers at the age of 12), immigrants who think a basic knowledge of the main language of the country they decided to move to is unnecessary, and gambling addicts. All but two of my coworkers are pathetically incompetent, but these are all stories for another day.
The store’s in a strip mall with a badly designed parking lot. The path in front of the stores is barely wide enough to fit two cars, but this doesn't stop the dozens of idiots a day that park there, and the hundreds that think they can idle in a driving path waiting for someone to enter or exit the car.
Apparently "NO PARKING: FIRE ZONE" means "NO PARKING unless you're only going to go in the stores for a few minutes for a few things and you really really really don't want to park properly and walk 50 yards because it's cold or raining and your convenience is more important than the law and the safety of everyone inside the stores and the convenience of everyone trying to drive in the lot."
Anyway, I go on my lunch break one day. I punch out, walk down to the deli, see a line out the door, and start walking back when I see this old jackass (hereafter referred to as "Twunt") parked in front of the store.
I've been working there for almost a decade and I've never seen someone park in the fucking sidewalk like this. I've seen SUVs that hop the curb a bit, and a few dumbasses that park their motorcycles against the buildings like they're bicycles, but never someone that tried to fit an entire car where people are trying to walk.
He must have thought that it's okay to park in a fire zone as long as most of his car isn't actually in the fire zone. I think, "Cou will get a laugh/facepalm out of this twunt" so I snap a picture to send to her. I turn to go into the store and out of the corner of my eye I see Twunt pulling off the curb to go park. Whoops, he saw me despite my best efforts to hide behind a support column.
I go back into the store, punch in, and go behind the counter when I see Twunt walking into the store.
He goes and finds what must have been his wife. I'm more focused on the line of people, but once I have a clear counter, they both come up to me. Once I see them together and not behind a windshield that probably hadn't been cleaned in years, I recognize him. Mr. and Mrs. Twunt are semiregular customers. I see them maybe once a month, but they stand out due to being complete assholes. They do things like yell across the store for help, cut lines, and always try to grab multiple free datebooks.(see: http://www.retailhellunderground.com/my_weblog/2010/09/card-store-hell-custys-abusing-coupons.html)
Twunt's normally got a huge stick up his ass, but he's actually acting pretty nice right now. He must think I'm trying to get him arrested or something. This will be fun.
Twunt: "Excuse me sir, did you take a picture of my car?"
Me: *playing dumb* "What car?"
Twunt: "The one I parked on the curb. Did you take a picture of it?"
Me: "Is that a problem?"
Twunt: "I saw you walking outside and you did something with your phone. I'm just wondering if you took a picture."
He's starting to break. This will be fun.
Me: "Well, I was just on my break, and whatever I may have done was outside store property, off working hours. I'm not going to answer to that. If you'd like to buy something, I can help you with that, otherwise-"
Twunt: *grabs two cards from his wife's hands and slams them on the counter. The mask slips* "Yeah, here, I'm buying this. Did you take a picture of my car? Because I don't give you permission to and I don't want a $50 ticket."
Me: "Sir, if I did take a picture of you, it's not illegal. I purchased a camera, and I can use it in any circumstance where there's no reasonable expectation of privacy. In future, if you don't want a parking ticket, maybe you shouldn't park where you know you're not supposed to."
Twunt: "What? You can't take a picture of a fat person and put it on the internet!"
Huh? He's about to start yelling, and I can see his face starting to redden.
Me: "Um, yes you can, as long as there's no libelous intent or direct monetary gain, there's no restrictions on circulating a picture. That'll be $3.57, by the way." *puts out hand for the money*
Twunt: *takes a $5 bill out of his wallet, slams it on the table* "What, are you a law student at John Jay?! Just tell me if you took a picture of my goddamn car and license plate!"
He's pissed. Time to coup de grâce this. Also, note that John Jay Law School is in New York City, which I definitely don't live in commuting distance to.
Me: *speaking as fast as possible* "Again, I am under no legal or moral obligation to disclose the activities of my personal life, and quite frankly, you following me to my place of work to confront me constitutes harassment. Furthermore, you're in no risk of a fine, as police cannot act on a violation that wasn't personally witnessed by an officer or recorded by an official traffic camera. In future, you should refrain from breaking the law to any extent for any reason in accordance with the social contract between the government and the people as conceived by John Locke and instituted by the Constitution. If you continue to harass me at my place of work for a personal matter, I will take legal action." *slows down* "Your change back is $1.43." *places the money on the counter, right where he put his, despite his outstretched hand* "Have a nice day!"
I'm pretty sure all he heard was snippets of legal terms and me threatening to call the cops on him. He turns beet-red and starts shaking out of anger. I could tell he was using all of his self-control to not punch me in the face, which was disappointing because I'd love an excuse to break his arm.
After about 15 seconds, he scrapes his change off the counter and walks out, dragging his wife with him.
Haven't seen him in the store since.