I had a customer who came in a few times this week. On the first day, she purchased two pair of earrings. She said that her ears "were pierced wrong" and that earrings hang funny sometimes. I told her that I'd be happy to take them off the cards for her to allow her to try them on. I assured her that I would clean them if she chose not to purchase them. She had me uncard them, then held them up to her head and told me that she would purchase them. "Did they work in your ears?" "I held them up. I'm sure that they'll be okay." As she left she asked, "What is your return policy?"
After the door closed, I told Toni that they would be coming back.
Day two comes, the lady comes in, comes to the counter, announces that she needs to return the earrings from the day prior and apologizes. She pulls out the bag, the receipt and tells me that she wants to return the earrings. "Ma'am, there are no earrings in this bag." "Well let me look in my purse."
Used tissues start pouring from her purse. She has a pile on the counter next to her on one side, develops a pile on the other side, has a few "stationery" napkins that she needs to save with important numbers, she is tucking used tissues under her arm. They are falling on the floor. They are everywhere.
And I may remind you that they are USED. All. of. them.
Honestly, it looked like a magician trying to perform a magic trick with all of those multi-colored scarves. These were multi-colored from use. :cringe:
I may also remind you that I'm a germophobe. Knowing this, my coworker came to stand with me. I reached down and touched her leg to have her know how incredibly grossed out I was. She was there to support me in my time of grossed outness.
"Ma'am, would you like a bag for all of your tissues?" She accepted the bag, thankfully, and pressed on with looking.
"Perhaps if you open your purse and have me look in, maybe I'll see them."
"I'll just go outside and look in the car."
Part of me hoped that she and all of her used facial tissues wouldn't return. When the door closed and we heard feet down the steps, Toni laughed. (There was no one in the store at the time.)
I pulled out the Lysol sanitizing wipes and went to town. Just as I finished, she returned.
Drat.
She handed me the earrings, but not the bill.
Oh crud. She had to reach back into the nasty bag of tissues. I swear that there was an entire box of used tissue in there.
Yuck.
She finally found the bill and when I went to return the earrings, the one pair looked as if the hooks had been stretched, pulled and bent in shapes by an unattended 3 year old. I didn't want drama, so I returned them knowing that it would be easy enough to change the ear wires.
"I just couldn't get them to work."
No kidding.
She was complaining about how far away she lived. She gave me her address. She lives in the same zip code that I live in. I live 10 minutes away from work.
She was talking about being all nervous and upset about signing papers on the sale of her house. She kept talking about it and I was trying to be positive with her. "It's a good thing for you and now you have paperwork settled. That's good! You don't have to worry about that anymore."
Like a light switch was flipped, she turned to me and said, "Well, it isn't like it is my ONLY house. I do have 6 more."
Okay then. Have a nice day. At least I know that she has enough space to store her used tissue collection.
