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Flattery will get you everywhere (warning: adult language)

I feel like a lot of my posts on this blog are starting to sound the same. But you know, if the same things didn’t keep happening, I wouldn’t keep writing about them.

A guy comes into the store, and I recognize him as having been here a few times but never very pleasant. He is complaining that his phone charger and battery are “pieces of shit” and he wants new ones. No, of course he doesn’t have his receipt, even though posted multiple places around the store, on the product packaging, on the receipt itself, and coming out of the cashier’s mouth whenever an item is sold, the return policy states that you must have a receipt. Yes some of the bigger stores can look it up by your debit card information, but we don’t even have a debit machine here. (All debit transactions must be run as credit.) We, as a small store employing 6 people, just do not have the means to process any returns without the individual transaction number that is printed on every receipt.

“So what you’re telling me is that I’m fucked.”

“Well sir, I can’t do anything without the receipt. I need it to make sure you are still within the return period or the warranty period.”

“I have been working retail 15 motherfucking years, and I’ve never heard of a goddamn policy like that! How long have you worked in retail?”

“I’m not anwering that question.”

“Fuck this! This is bullshit! Get me the goddamn manager!”

“Sir there’s no manager here right now.”

“Well call him up at home then!”

“Sir, I’m not calling my store manager at home. And frankly, even if there was something I could do to help you (which there isn’t), I’m not sure that I would want to because of the language and the tone you’re using while speaking to me.”

“I’m not doing it to be mean! I just hate getting fucked!” (I filed that one away for some later time, to snicker when I wasn’t being yelled at.)

He continued telling me his problem, and I offered to test both the battery and the charger. Sure enough, they both test as good. I tell him he may need to go talk to his phone company, because that’s something I can’t fix even with a receipt. He cusses me out one more time and storms out. By this time there was another customer in the store, so I turned to him with an exasperated smile and offered to help him.

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