About 3 weeks ago, I received an e-mail from my company’s Customer Service Department stating “We received a complaint today that a customer tried to return a pair of jeans and he was sent away unhappy. Also, manager Andrew was very rude to him. Please address.”
Ummmm, 1. I was there all day and never saw this supposed customer. 2. I have three males on my payroll. None of them were working that day and none of them are named Andrew. I was given this customer’s phone number, so without hesitation, I called to see what drugs he was taking to make up imaginary scenarios in my store. I’m sort of kidding.
I called him, he answered. I told him I was informed that he had an unsatisfactory experience in my store, and I wanted to see what I could do. He replied with “Oh, I never went into the store. I called customer service to get permission to return some jeans.” BULL SH… “Oh. I was under the impression you spoke to someone here today. You can bring them in later and I’ll exchange them out for you.” He was really chipper and said “Oh really? Great, because I work in the circus and I never even wore these jeans, but I lost the receipt. All I want is a different pair. See you tonight!” I emailed all of my respective bosses and assured them this was taken care of. I also added that he was a liar. And circus boy never showed up that night.
So, I worked for a week, went to LA for a week, and then went back to work. A short blonde guy walked up to the register on Saturday and put a pair of jeans on the counter. “Hi. I’m Johnny. I spoke to your District Director a few weeks ago and they approved me to return these jeans.” “Hi. I’m Jenn. I’m the one you spoke to, I think. You work in the circus and need to exchange these, right?” “Oh, yeah. But I also talked to your head district director.” That position doesn’t exist, but okay. I picked up the jeans and, low and behold, the entire waistband was torn off, the bottom of the jeans were dirty, and the back pocket was torn. I jokingly said, “Wow, did the circus tiger get you?” He said, “Oh no, that just happened when I went to wear them for the first time.” PANTS ON FIRE. Jeans don’t just magically tear away from the waistband with giant slash marks all over them. Thanks a lot, Customer Service.
I told Johnny to grab another pair to exchange them out and let him know the price he was working with. His mangled jeans were on clearance for $30 or so. He grabbed a pair of regular priced jeans and brought them to me. When I told him he would owe $24, he was confused about the exchange. They don’t teach mathematics in clown school, apparently.
After finding the exact pair of jeans he was returning, he left happy. I sent a text to my district manager that said “Circus clown came. He said he talked to you. He’s happy.” He responded with “He never talked to me. Stories…” Of course he didn’t. Just like he never came in the store and talked to imaginary Andrew, the non-existent manager. And just like he didn’t wear the jeans that were completely trashed. Nobody noticed this during the purchase? Doubt it.
Tell the truth, friends! And don’t join the circus.