I've returned all sorts of things. The empty cans of soda, that infamous bag of grapes, a gnawed-to-the-bone pound of chicken wings, beef fat, a carboard box that once held a beef tips dinner, a chicken dinner and of course that hilarious Natural Light episode.
I've never returned grilled steak before. Especially not fourteen dollars worth of it. Not with one pitiful sawed on piece left sitting in the carton and a hugely fat man staring at me across the counter going "These steaks were tough. We want our money back."
I swear to Shiva, I wanted to go "They obviously weren't too tough for you to choke down the other five that were in the package," but it was too early and I just didn't feel like looking at the orangutan man a minute longer than I had to. And of course this clown didn't have a receipt.
ME: "I need your drivers license sir."
HIM: "You mean you can't just give me some cash? Them there steaks was bad. My wife cooked them up three days ago and they were tough." He keeps using the plural of steak, but there's only one small piece of meat left in the package. Maybe enough to make a steak biscuit for breakfast.
ME: "I understand that sir. Could you please not wave the package around? But our store policy is that for all returns without a receipt, we require a government-issued ID and we give you a store credit."
HIM: "Wal-Mart used to just give you cash for whatever you brought back in."
ME: "Not any more sir."
HIM: "Well, I've got to go home and get it."
ME: "That's fine sir. We'll keep them right here." And I set that nasty container right on the counter.
An hour later, he shows back up. Still looking like a gorilla wearing a lime green tank top.
Picture the hairiest man you know. Multiply that by ten. Put a lime green tank top on it. And he's bald. And 300 pounds. And wearing red flip flops. And scratching his stomach through a hole in the shirt.
Still wanting a refund on merchandise he's probably going to eventually be flushing down his septic system in a day or so.
When he comes back, I'm trying to process a refund for a woman who decided NOT to throw a combination Easter/birthday party for her kid and 15 other two-year-olds, so she's bringing back $75 worth of candy, baskets, party favors, Easter grass (that's where it was at) and other assorted fripperies. He tells the other girl at the counter that he wants a refund on the steak and I hear her go "You're kidding, right?"
Sadly, no. I wonder if he spent the whole refund on Easter candy? It wasn't marked down yet.
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9 comments:
"Fripperies"
My new favorite word!
hahaha :)i find it kind of wierd when people get those holes in thier shirts and it looks like thier belly button got hungry... i wonder if thats where belly button lint comes from...
No, see, the worst thing is when the person is bald, 300 pounds, ten times hairer than hair itself, and is strolling around in nothing but a worn out pair of overalls. Such was the dude that came and bought a Power Wheels from me the other night. I really dislike the south.
You know, I think having to deal with and refund people like this gives you carte blanche to say whatever you please to whomever you please when it comes to WM customers. Oh, good lord. Any time I've ever thought you may have 'over-done' it with a customer, I take back based on this one gorilla.
Shiva or whoever bless you.
Now you know why the Soviet Union folded and why Communism doesn't work and Socialism only works in countries where the people are highly educated.
Stalin understood the human mind and human behavior and these people were either executed or sent to Siberia, or both.
As they say, in order to give charity to one person, you have to give it to the other 9 slobs who get in line behind him.
You absolutely could not get a refund for food, eaten or not, in the Soviet Union.
Walmart steak and it was just tough?! I call that pretty good!
People should not expect high quality stuff from walmart, you pay for what you get!
(I love your blog by the way!)
Easter... grass?
Obviously this aspect of the over-commercialisation of Easter hasn't made it out here to the 52nd state yet..
I can see I'm going to have fun finding out what easter grass is later today.
It always kill me when I hear people say that they don't have any ID on them. How do they leave the house thinking, hmmm...I probably won't need my driver's license as I will only be driving to Walmart!
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