(My friend and I browse the natural supplement section of the pharmacy. She hands me bottles of diet pills and I read the ingredients. Note that she cannot take any caffeine or green tea because of health problems.)
Friend: “What’s in this one?”
Me: “Caffeine, laxative, raspberries.”
Friend: “And this one?”
Me: “Caffeine and green tea.”
Friend: “And this one?”
Me: “It’s written GREEN TEA in gigantic green letters on the bottle.”
(I recently had a cyst in a very intimate place get infected and had to get antibiotics to treat it. Note that I also work in this particular pharmacy and all of us can be a little bit quirky about some things. This conversation happens when I go to pick up the antibiotic and my coworker asks me if I’ll be calling out of work for illness.)
Me: “Oh, no, I just got a cyst that’s infected.”
Coworker: *eyes light up* “Oh! If you go somewhere to get it popped, can you have them record it? I love watching the pus come out!”
Me: “Umm, it’s in a place you wouldn’t want to see.”
Coworker: “Oh.” *pause* “Just blur that part out!”
(I work for a very large pharmacy/convenience store that has a very specific return policy. If it’s an item of our brand, it can be returned no matter what: empty, destroyed, no receipt, anything. However, it’s returned and you’re given a ”money card,” which can be used on anything in-store except for prescriptions and cigarettes. A woman from the neighborhood knows this and this occurs almost daily. Today is my last day working.)
Me: *currently restocking the candy in front of my till when I hear a loud cough and see the customer standing three spaces away waiting* “Ma’am, may I help you?”
Lady: “About f****** time. I have a return. I demand you help me now!”
Me: *I walk back to my till, grabbing her items on the way, and start the return by scanning her receipt, noting that she paid with food stamps for her purchase* “Okay, this shouldn’t be an issue. Do you have the food stamp card used? I just need to scan it to reimburse you.”
Lady: “It’s not a food stamp card, you assumptive piece of s***! It’s just for us folks who don’t have a rich daddy to pay for s***. And no, I don’t have it with me.”
(She proceeds to grab the receipt from me.)
Lady: “Just give me one of those d*** cards, okay? God, you take forever.”
(I cancel out the return and begin a return without receipt, which requires my manager to okay that I am activating the card.)
Me: “Okay, this should be just fine; just give me one moment to get my manager to activate the card.”
Lady: “Of course. Hurry up; I don’t have all day, Princess.”
(At this point, I’ve had to deal with her so many times that I am almost joyfully taking my time. I knock on my manager’s office and let him know who it is and what’s going on.)
Manager: “Ma’am, this will just take me a quick moment. Can I ask why you’re returning this?”
Lady: “It’s f****** disgusting. All your products are. Just give me my card finally.”
(My manager tells her how to use the card and gives it to her with a printed balance.)
Lady: “I’m just going to use it now, you f****** idiot. Princess, can you finally get off your fat a** and get me a carton of [Cigarette Brand] and two lighters?”
Manager: “Ma’am, I have already told you that you cannot buy cigarettes with this card.”
Lady: “I don’t care! Bad enough you can’t give me my money back. Let me get my f****** cigarettes.”
(At this point, I’m completely shocked. Usually, telling her gets her to go to a different store.)
Manager: *speaking to me* “Did her original receipt show food stamps again?”
Lady: “THEY ARE NOT STAMPS!”
Me: “Yes.”
(At this point, my manager asks for the card so he can “fix the issue” and hands it to me.)
Manager: “Can you please dispose of this for me? As for you, ma’am, I demand you leave. This is the fifth time you’ve tried to get cigarettes with food stamps and I cannot take this.”
Lady: *completely irate* “No! I demand my god-d*** f****** cigarettes, you f****** c***!”
(Knowing this is my last day, I look at her completely stone faced and snap the card in half.)
Me: “You need to leave. Now.”
(She later came back that day with a police officer, claiming that we stole from her. My manager took the officer into the room, explained the situation, and showed him both the returned product and the snapped card. She was arrested for food stamp fraud.)
Manager: “You can go home early today. When you’re at college, do something not to end up here.”
(A customer comes up to me with two packages of a popular over-the-counter drug brand; one is for treating cold symptoms and one is a sleep aid only.)
Customer: “I’m not sure which one to get.”
Me: *pointing to the orange box* “Well, this one treats symptoms of a minor cold, like stuffy nose and chest congestion, and this one—” *pointing to the blue box* “—is a sleep aid.”
Customer: “Which one should I get?”
Me: “Do you have a cold or do you need help falling asleep?”
Customer: “I don’t know. Can you put them behind your back and mix them up, then I’ll just pick a hand and go with it.”
Me: “It might just be better to choose the one that fits your symptoms.”
Customer: *pushing the boxes at me* “No, this will be fine. Just mix them up behind your back, and I’ll pick one.”
Me: “Um, okay.” *dutifully puts the boxes behind my back and switches hands*
(The customer picks the hand that was holding the sleep aid.)
(We recently get a new scheduling manager that is horrible about communicating with everyone and often changes the schedule at the drop of a hat. Leading up the Black Friday, I’ve been checking the upcoming schedule multiple times every day to insure I am off both Thanksgiving and Black Friday and I indeed am. I even call on Thanksgiving to insure that I am off on Black Friday and again it is confirmed. While out with my family I get a call from the scheduling manager.)
Me: “Hello?”
Scheduling Manager: “[My Name], where are you?”
Me: “With my family.”
Scheduling Manager: “You’re supposed to be here!”
Me: “No, I’m not. I checked all last week and everyday and even called yesterday to make sure, [Scheduling Manager]. My name was not down.”
Scheduling Manager: “Well, you need to come in.”
Me: “No.” *hangs up*
Scheduling Manager: *calls me a few more times which I ignore then texts me* “Please, you need to come in. I’m sorry for the confusion. I’ll have to work a 13-hour shift if you don’t.”
Me: *texts back* “I am not coming in. I was not on the schedule for today. Stop texting me.”
Scheduling Manager: *texts* “Please!”
Me: *texts* “No.” *turns off phone*
(I turned my phone back on after I got back home. I had numerous messages from her. I complained to the manager above her who said she would sort it out. The scheduling manager left two months later.)
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