From T-Shirt Sponge, May, 2011

Oh RHUers.

It's been crazy.

I must admit I've been a little stressed, what with starting my new interpreting class, taking a motorcycle course, watching a girl have a random seizure in said course and almost die (before you say it - no epilepsy or seizure history. Just a random 22 year old having a seizure. Scared the fucking bejeesus out of me), and then because I was quite shaken, crashing a motorcycle....into my mother. Heh.

BUT I have missed you all, so I'm back to astound you with tales of awful people.
In one recent shift, I was greeting, a slow and hellish ball-breaking task. I'm a fairly good (fake) people person though, so I just smile and wave. This man comes strolling in with an Old Navy bag in one hand and I immediately realize I'm in trouble. His bag has our Christmas design on it. Fuckity fuck fuck.

SirFuckface: Yeah I need to exchange these, they don't fit.

Me: Ok, no problem, do you have a receipt?

SF: Yeah, I got them for Christmas and they're too small. *hands me receipt. Date? Dec. 23*

Me: Ok sir, well unfortunately our return policy only covers 90 days, so we won't be able to exchange this for you *ITS BEEN FOUR MONTHS ASSWIPE*

SF: But....I just want to exchange them, not return them!

Me: Yes, well that falls under the return policy.

SF: WHAT?! So what am I supposed to do, just throw them away?!?

Me: No, no don't do that! If you really can't wear them or don't know anyone you can give them to, you could always donate them.

SF: Yeah right, like I'm gonna do that.

That sound you hear at this point is me punching him in the dick in my mind. What a douchenozzle.

He then starts screaming about how he's a regular customer and he's spent tons of money at our store and he'll never come back and FUCK THIS PLACE! Que storming out.
Oook then.

A couple days later I was working my ass off in the fitting rooms, running back and forth cleaning up people's messes (you ever feel like your doing other people's laundry? Ugh, I do.), and just generally busting my ass. A woman comes in with her two children, about age 6 (fraternal twins), we set up a fitting room for each child, and the nightmare begins.

These kids are literally THROWING CLOTHING over the tops of the doors, to the point where shorts were getting caught and I had to use that little hook thing that I think is my Gandalf staff to get them down. There was screaming and children slamming and locking doors, and Mom yelling......my head just reeled.

I thought I was watching the Twilight Zone. Kind of like a train wreck, you can't stop staring.....to which the mom just kept saying "I'm sorry, I have really bad kids".

REALLY LADY? REALLY? WHOSE FAULT IS THAT!? My mother would have beat me like a redheaded stepchild right there in the middle of the store if I acted like such a little beast. It was like a horror film that wouldn't end....

This weekend is the famous $1 flip flop sale. If I survive, and I may not, I'll let you know how it goes.

Love,

--T-Shirt Sponge

 Read more stories from Cashier Hell here

read more about Bad Returners here

For Hellspawn Tales go here

This story was originally posted on November 21, 2009

Dear RHU,

I work for a major office supply store. You'd think that the type of people who voluntarily shop for paper, ink, and toner are mild-mannered by association. This, however, is not the case. My first of many horrible customer experiences comes from a woman who was about 40 who wanted to return her item. I could tell by the caked on blue eyeshadow, fluffy pink sweater, perm, and mom jeans that there was going to be trouble. I was right.

At our store, if you don't have a receipt for your return, you must give a drivers license to us so we can check your ID in a database of fraud ID's. Normally, this almost never poses an issue, but there's always a first time for everything.

After some fumbling around, she managed to find her ID, flashed it at me, and then stuffed it back into her purse.

Me: Ma'am, I need to see your ID...

40 year old woman: you just did.

Me: Ma'am I need to type in your drivers license number

40 YOW: Why?! Why do you need to do that?!

Me: Because it's just a quick check to see that your ID isn't fraudulent

40 YOW: IT ISN'T FRAUDULENT!!!!! Why would you need to type in the number!?

Me: As I stated, it's just a check to see that your ID isn't fraudulent...

40 YOW: IT ISN'T!!! You! Why???? Why do you need it!?!?

Me: I can't let you return this without typing in your ID number

40 YOW: YOU'RE JUST TRYING TO STEAL MY IDENTITY!!!! IDENTITY THEFT!!!!! IDENTITY THEFT!!!!!!

Me: Let me get a manager...

::Manager comes over::

40 YOW: SHE!!! She says you need to type in my drivers license number for a return!!!

Manager: ...yes?

40 YOW: Why do you need it!!?!

Manager: it's a check in our database of fraudulent ID's. Your ID is most likely not fraudulent, however we must type in the number -

40 YOW: THAT IS AN INVASION OF PRIVACY!!!

Manager: If you want to return this item, then I have to type in your ID number. If not, then I can't do the return

40 YOW: Why?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Manager: Because we need an ID to do the return

40 YOW: BUT MY ID ISN'T FRAUDULENT!! I AM AN AMERICAN CITIZEN!!

Manager: I know. It probably isn't, but we still need the ID for the return

40 YOW: THIS IS IDENTITY THEFT!!!

This exchange goes on for another 15 minutes before she finally agrees to give the manager her ID and type in the number and finish the return. I half expected there to be some sort problem, with the way she was over-reacting. But there wasn't. She was just a dumb fucking bitch.

Manager: Thank you, is there anything else I can help you with today?

40 YOW: I don't know WHY you needed my ID!

More stories to come!

Love,

--Office Supply Whore

Read more Return Hell stories here!

From College Bitchstore, January 2010:

I work in a college bookstore, where normally, it's fairly quiet, with the occasional bitchy customer, but nothing too extreme. 

Usually. 

Our return policy states that you have 5 days from the start of the semester to return your books (in this case, undergraduate classes start on a Monday, so you have until Friday to return your books). It's short, and it's ridiculous, but that's how it is (unfortunately). 

Anyway, a customer came in about three days after the return period had passed. He came to my counter (since I was lucky enough to be on returns) and asked for a refund. 

I asked him if he was an undergrad, and he said yes. I told him that the return policy had passed and that he could not get a refund. He got agitated and said that he had seven days to return the book. 

I told him that the return policy (which, by the way, is stated verbally by every employee and also printed on the back of the receipt, which we also point out) had ended last Friday and that I couldn't do anything for him. 

He gets pissed and asks for my manager. I go and get my manager and explain the situation to her , and she agrees to come talk to him. 

The exchange goes something like this:

Custy: [suddenly in a nice demeanor] Hi, yeah, I bought a book last week, and it turns out that my roommate had the same book so I didn't need to buy the book after all, so I need to get a refund.

Manager: I'm sorry sir, we can't give you a refund.  *turns receipt over and points* Our return policy states that you have five days from the start of the semester to return it, which was last Friday.

Custy: But my class started on Tuesday.

Manager: I understand that, sir, but the policy goes by the start of the semester, which started last Monday.

Custy: [sounding arrogant] Well...I'm going to get my attorney involved.

At this point, I'm like WHAT.  I have to look at my feet at this point to avoid laughing, and my manager is purposely avoiding eye contact with me to avoid laughing too.

Manager: You...what?

Custy: If you don't give me this refund, I'm going to have my attorney give you a call.

Manager: Alright.  Have him do that.

This story was originally posted on August 29, 2010

From Liŋuist:

So today I had a lovely time with a wonderfully understanding and gracious customer.

Heh. I wish.

So I've worked at my job at a major one-stop-shop retailer for about six months now. I recently got a promotion to Front End Supervisor (which basically means I handle returns and supervise all the cashiers) and since this promotion is REALLY new, I've been on edge trying not to mess up / rely on management too much. I've been doing well so far, so I just knew something had to come along and ruin my day.

A lady walked in today with an unopened air mattress to return.

I greet her and ask her how I can help her, to which I am given:

"You kin gimme a sto' credit, tha's wha choo kin do."

"I'll do my best, ma'am. Do you have your receipt with you?"

"Why you think I ask fo' a sto' credit?! Course I ain't got no damn receipt!"

Lovely. I stay calm and try to see how I can get around this.

"Well, how did you pay for it? If you used a credit or debit card I can pull the sale record up from there for you."

"It was a mutha fuckin gift! Why the hell you think I ain't go no receipt?!"

Great. So no receipt and no sale record.

Now, company policy is very strict when it comes to air mattresses. None of the opened ones can be returned or exchanged for any reason other than defects.

I know her box is unopened, but I also know how closely watched these mattresses are. Not something I'm willing to get in trouble for.

Now, if she had bought some brand that is sold only at my store, I could help her. But this was a popular brand and I had no way to know that she didn't buy the damn thing at Wal-fart and bring it here because ours were more expensive.

So I do literally all I can do: brace for impact.

"I'm sorry ma'am. Without a way to track the sale, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you."

"What?! Why da hell not?! It's not like I want money, I jus want a sto' credit!"

"I'm sorry ma'am, I can't do anything for you without a receipt."

Well, she screams and hollers for a while and I don't budge. After about 15 minutes, my store manager calls me and tells me to do what I need to to shut her up because she's sick of listening to her from across the store.

I inform the lady that my manager has agreed to do a no-receipt return, which means we will take the item back and give her a credit, but she will only get credited the lowest sale price in the past 90 days.

She was INFURIATED stating she paid full price and this is racist, and I'm just being a a stuck up bitch. I tell her that's the best we can do for her and she can either accept it or decline it. There is no negotiating, the offer is what it is.

After another ten minutes of bitching and whining from her, she finally takes it while making it clear that I'm terrible at my job and at life and I shouldn't be given a job I'm too stupid to do.

I almost lost it here.

I go to a major university where I'm a triple major (German, Linguistics, and Mandarin). I work my ass off to keep a 4.0 to keep my scholarships. I commute an hour to class five days a week at 6 am and then haul ass to get back home to go to work for 9 hours. I am NOT stupid. I'm trilingual and only ONE language was a native language. I seriously almost flipped off the handle here.

Much to my surprise, I kept it together and finished her sale. She left with her gift card and walked off, I prayed to Buddha, Allah, FSM and anything else that she was gone for good.

Nope.

Ten minutes later she returns to my counter (because she didn't want to wait in line behind ONE PERSON) and told me I need to check her out this instant or she'll have my job (and notes that I'm lucky she hasn't already had me fired because she "kin SOOOooooOOOO do dat wif just one quick convolation [sic] wif da managa."

I sigh and attend to her. I ring her through, and go to hand her her receipt.

"I don't want dat shit!" she yells at me as she walks out without it.

I just can't help but stand there for a minute, dumbfounded that she hasn't learned anything from our 30 minute ordeal.

Just another day at the Mart, I suppose.

--Liŋuist

From M, April 2009:

I don't know what it is about 'guests' but they just seem to get more and more insane and stupid as time progresses.  This was probably one of the best phone conversations I've ever had. Enjoy.

*on the phone*
My coworker: no. maam. uh. no. you can't on the phone. no. yes. okay hold on.

My coworker to me: She wants a manager.

Me: [takes phone.] Thank you for holding this is M how can I help you?

Lady: yea I bought [insert item here. I honestly can't remember what it was] and it doesn't work and I want to return it.

Me: Okay, do you have a receipt for it dated within 90 days?

Lady: yes! I just bought it and it doesn't work!

Me: I'm very sorry about that. Just bring in the item and the receipt to the service desk and we'll gladly exchange or refund the item for you.

Lady: Look, I don't live by the store. it's too far away.

Me: Well that's okay, you don't have to return it to this store. You can return any [store name] merchandise to any [store name].

Lady: This is a pain. I don't have time to keep running back and forth. Can we do this over the phone?

Me: [pause] over the phone?

Lady: yes, can't I just read you the information off the receipt or something?

Me: no.

Lady: Why not? this is ridiculous, I shouldn't have to drive all the way back there because this thing is broken!

Me: Ma'am, there is no way to return something over the phone. I need the merchandise in the store to refund the money for it.

Lady: I can't believe this. I want to process this return over the phone so I don't have to drive to ANY [Store Name].

Me: Ma'am, I'm sorry but I cannot return an item over the phone. With a return you need to give back the merchandise that you don't want. You cannot keep the merchandise and get your money back for it. It's kind of like stealing.

Lady: I don't steal!

Me: I'm not implying that you do, but if I were to give you back money for something you kept it's sort of the same concept.

Lady: Thank you for your help. *click*

*sigh*  Yes, I cannot believe this actually happened either.  Maybe next time she'll ask to return something via email!

--M

Read more Dumbass Customer Stories here.

From Santa's Bitch, November 2009:

Long story short, I'm 24 years old, and have worked for the same retail company for 9 YEARS!

Believe it.
 
I have so many stories to share, rest assured, I will bring up more!  My rant for the day....
 
CRUSTYS!!!
 
I work for a upper market retail company in Australia, blue red and white.
 
Today I had a fucking shit bitch, she came up to me all quiet and polite with her borish emo of a teenage daughter.
 
"I bought this electrical device and I no longer need it, we just can't use it in my country hick home. I'd LOVE a refund, if you could manage it. Oh and cash, because that's how I paid."
 
Me: "No problem, it does state on our refund policy that we don't refund on wrong decisions or change of mind, but I'll just see what I can do for you with my manager."
 
Well, my manager was in a bitch of a mood, but I didn't even check, and HE saw, the fucking thing was 7 MONTHS OLD!!! Not to mention she paid by card!
 
So seriously this bitch just decides she wants over a hundred dollars back for an old item that WE CAN NO LONGER SELL BECAUSE IT"S OOOOOOOLD!
 
Stupid bitch!
 
So I go out to her, tell her that "I'm sorry it's an old product, and given the age of it, it is something we can no longer sell."

So she leaves all nice and good.

What do I get an hour later..... Her husband comes back complaining that we won't give their money back!!
 
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!

Dude starts ripping up my bosses saying they'll take us to fair trading and we don't have no return sign up nowhere! Where actually, we have signs up at EVERY REGISTER!!!

Sorry dude, we can't just give you cash after buying shit! Seriously. RETAIL IS FUCKED.

Oh and can I tell you, I have 5 weeks coming up of me taking Santa pictures for little snot nosed retail spawn 3 hours a day, where I have to work extra days a week, AND I only get ONE day off over Christmas!

Watch out for this Aussie bitch queen! I'll be coming for those custys!

I hope your holidays are better than mine fellow friends!

Peace out,

--Santa's Bitch