Go Ahead, Call Me That One More Time

One day, I got a bit backed up at the service desk, so I pressed the assistance button so that someone could come up and help me with my line.  Our AP Manager came up to help me.  She’s in charge of Assets Protection.  Pretty much perfect to come up to the service desk for those who are trying to scam us or steal from us.  She helps me and after a guest or two, she has a gentleman come up to return a standing oscillating fan because it stopped working.  I didn’t hear all of his excuses, but the next thing I look over to see as I’m still helping the guest in front  of me is the fan come out of the box.  He had actually taken it apart and managed to get it back in the box. 
I’ve seen sewers that looked cleaner than this fan.  Okay, maybe not quite, but the fan was absolutely disgusting.  He’d obviously used it in some messy environment and it had probably stopped working from the amount of grim and dirt and dust that it was covered with.  Whether or not he had a receipt was beyond me, but she flat out told him that she couldn’t accept it.  He got minorly defensive at first, asked why not, she flatly told him because it had obviously been used, so she couldn’t take it.
  Then he  got angry.  He started cussing at her.  Calling her a “prissy ass bitch” and telling her to stop getting an attitude with him.  She takes a step back and says “Sir, you’re the one getting an attitude with me, so please take this fan and leave the store before I call security.” 
Then he asks to speak with a manager. 
“Well, sir, I am the manager.”
“I want to speak with some other manager.”
  “I’m the only one here.”
“When does the next one come in?”
“I’m it for the night.”
This enrages him even more.  He continues to call her names and cuss at her, and she finally says that if he doesn’t leave, she’s calling the police on him, not store security.  She pulls out her walkie talkie and begins to yell to our security guard on duty to cal the local police department.  And this guy is still going.  He’s ranting and raving at her, and she has not only stepped back away from him, but is standing next to me now, putting a very good distance between the two of them. 
I think this guy just has small man syndrome.  Here’s this woman who is taller than you telling you that you can’t return a filthy fan.  Not only are you upset that she won’t take back the item you used, but she’s threatening your manhood by being bigger than you.
Finally, the guy rants his way out the exit door with the fan in tow.  She turns to me (all my guests are gone by now) and says “Don’t you dare even take that fan back if he comes back in.”  I looked at her wide-eyed and said “I planned on calling AP the second I saw him walk back in the door”  She smiles big at me and says “Good girl!  I like you.”
Where does he get off calling someone a prissy ass bitch?  Not only that, but where does he get off calling the manager of a store names even after he is informed that she is in fact a manager who has the right to tell him no.  Hell, she has the right to pick him up and boot him out on the parking lot in a heap.
  I once had a woman call her husband on the phone to curse him out for buying her Sunday school supplies at our store if we weren’t going to return it.  I had scanned the items that she brought it and they didn’t show up in our system.  Item Not Found, the screen gleams at me when I scan something that we either don’t sell, or something that has been salvaged out.  I inform her of this, and she informs me that she just saw a package just like it (I think it was Sharpies) on our shelf. 
  I calmly tell her that it could just be a new model of the same thing, therefore, it won’t show the same numbers as the one that she brought in.  Of course, she didn’t have a receipt or the card that may have purchased the items.  Her husband bought them for her.  She had originally just wanted to exchange for another, no prob, Rob. 
After I tell her I cannot return the items without her husband’s credit card as the receipt or the original paper receipt, she gets mad.  She tells me that it’s bullshit and that I’m being rude to her.  Then she calls her husband and is berating him over the phone and telling him to never, ever, ever shop at our store again because they don’t return anything.
I stand there and stare at my computer screen until she hangs up on her husband and grabs the markers from me and stomps off, still mumbling about our bullshit return policy.

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