This old woman, a grandmotherly type comes up with this huge thing in a plastic hefty bag. She flops it on the counter. Daughter-type and grandkid-brat tag along.
Grandma: "We want to return this." (This) being some sort of kids water toy. "It doesn't work right." Then the witch proceeds to demonstrate by taking the handle and trying to squirt water all over the counter and just making a puddle.
ME: "Ma'am, could you please not do that?" "I do have to clean that up before I can do you refund."
Grandma: "Oh, is there still water in it?"
ME: "Yes ma'am. You can see the water all over the counter."
I do the refund and ask her what parts broke. She tells me. Then she drops the bomb.
Grandma: "And I bought two packs of batteries. I want the credit for those too."
Now, whatever she bought, I doubt it took TWO packs of batteries to run it. And this thing requires screwdrivers to take apart the hatch the batteries are in. I'm by myself and the line is nine people long and curving around toward the bank. What to do?
I sigh the sigh of the defeated and give the old cow the money back for the batteries, print out two more defective slips and let the idiots back in claims sort it out.
Now get this straight. I KNOW she was a lying sow. I KNOW she was a greedy wench. I KNOW she essentially stole that $10 for those batteries. I also KNOW that I would have wasted 20 minutes trying to get a manager, only to have to give her the money anyway. So save the fuss.
Sometimes, I do hate my job though, especially when I'm forced to chose between what is right and what is expedient.