We are STEALING from her! Except she didn't buy it in the first place...
I'll just give you my side of the conversation. It might be more amusing that way.
Me: "Thanks for calling >bookstore<, may I help you? Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
"No, I'm afraid we really can't do anything about a lost gift card, ma'am."
"Well, if you bought it yesterday, and knew the register you were at and the time..."
"If it's been since Christmas, we really can't do anything about it."
"Perhaps if the person who bought it for you had the receipt with the gift card number..."
"I'm sorry you think that's ridiculous, but we have no way to track gift cards without the number on the back."
"No, we can't look it up by your name."
"Because, ma'am, when people purchase gift cards from us they don't tell us who they're giving them to."
"I fail to see how we are stealing from you, ma'am. The back of every gift card is clearly printed with the statement that they cannot be replaced if lost or stolen."
"...no, I'm certain no other store will replace lost gift cards either. It's standard practice."
"No ma'am, we are not stealing from you."
"Please call whomever you think you need to, but I doubt the police will be able to help."
"I'll be happy to give you the owner's number if you would like your lawyers to contact him."
"Ma'am, I am unable to help you. If you have no other questions, I'll be hanging up now."
"I'm sorry you feel we are thieves. Have a nice day." >click<
If I were IT, I would be getting paid more
Lady calls looking for a CD by a local gospel band. It seems a terminally ill member of her church desperately wants to hear this certain song before she passes away. Being a sucker, I agree to help.
Lady: "I found the song on this site...uh, You- Tube?"
Me: OK, what's the name of the band, the song, and the CD?"
Lady: "Uh, I know the song and the band. It's The God Rockers Band, and the song is 'Sweet Jesus' (names changed to protect the innocent band members). I found it on this You-Tube!"
Me (after intense searching of the Google): "I found the band's official website, but I don't see that song listed on any of the CDs they offer for sale. I'm afraid we can't order any of their work from our distributor, but I can give you the website so you can contact them."
Lady: "Let me give you this You-Tube address..." >rattles off insanely complex string of letters, numbers, and symbols<
Me: "I'm afraid that doesn't help ma'am, I can't pull up the video on my computer using that URL..."
Lady: "The what?"
Me: "...website address. And seeing the video won't help me find the song for you on a CD. Now, if you want to put in this address for The God Rockers' official site..."
Lady: "I don't see why you can't find that video!"
Me: "Youtube addresses tend to be very complicated. It's possible one of us made a mistake in typing or reading it."
Lady: "Well, let me tell it to you again-"
Me: "Ma'am, it's not going to help me. Your best bet is to look at this website I will give you and contact the band directly. Now, just put this address into the bar-"
Wash, rinse, repeat. For 21 minutes.
Lady: "How do I get rid of the address that's already in there?"
Me:
"Click on it, hit 'delete', and type in THIS address."
GAH! I like doing research and I don't mind helping people, but I wasn't going to get a sale out of this conversation anyway. FINALLY she accepted that she had to go to the website I was trying to give her and went away.
So, do you have a uterus? Then shut the fuck up.
For the first 8 months of my pregnancy, I climbed the stairs at work (we are a two-story store). But in the past two weeks, hauling my cetacean figure up the two flights was getting too difficult, plus my feet no longer fit in my shoes, they are so swollen. I figured I could take the last 8 weeks off and use the elevator. Most people are understanding when I ask if they mind using the elevator. Not this guy.
We get on the elevator.
Asshat: "Hey! This is cheating!"
Me: "Well, I'm afraid my feet are too swollen and painful to climb the stairs one hundred times a day." >sweet smile<
AH: "My friend ran a marathon a week before she gave birth!"
Me: "Your friend's a fucking idiot."
OK, I didn't say that, but I stared at the panel of buttons and ignored him. I think he got it.
Now, I think before you harangue a pregnant woman, you need to ask yourself 3 questions:
1. Am I now, or have I ever been, pregnant?
2. Will I ever become pregnant?
3. Do I even have a uterus and/or vagina?
If you answer 'no' to all of these, then keep your fucking mouth shut. Do I tell you how to take care of your penis, scrotum, and prostate? No, because I have none of these things. So, unless you've ever had a fetus in your womb, zip it.
I'll just give you my side of the conversation. It might be more amusing that way.
Me: "Thanks for calling >bookstore<, may I help you? Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
"No, I'm afraid we really can't do anything about a lost gift card, ma'am."
"Well, if you bought it yesterday, and knew the register you were at and the time..."
"If it's been since Christmas, we really can't do anything about it."
"Perhaps if the person who bought it for you had the receipt with the gift card number..."
"I'm sorry you think that's ridiculous, but we have no way to track gift cards without the number on the back."
"No, we can't look it up by your name."
"Because, ma'am, when people purchase gift cards from us they don't tell us who they're giving them to."
"I fail to see how we are stealing from you, ma'am. The back of every gift card is clearly printed with the statement that they cannot be replaced if lost or stolen."
"...no, I'm certain no other store will replace lost gift cards either. It's standard practice."
"No ma'am, we are not stealing from you."
"Please call whomever you think you need to, but I doubt the police will be able to help."
"I'll be happy to give you the owner's number if you would like your lawyers to contact him."
"Ma'am, I am unable to help you. If you have no other questions, I'll be hanging up now."
"I'm sorry you feel we are thieves. Have a nice day." >click<

If I were IT, I would be getting paid more
Lady calls looking for a CD by a local gospel band. It seems a terminally ill member of her church desperately wants to hear this certain song before she passes away. Being a sucker, I agree to help.
Lady: "I found the song on this site...uh, You- Tube?"
Me: OK, what's the name of the band, the song, and the CD?"
Lady: "Uh, I know the song and the band. It's The God Rockers Band, and the song is 'Sweet Jesus' (names changed to protect the innocent band members). I found it on this You-Tube!"
Me (after intense searching of the Google): "I found the band's official website, but I don't see that song listed on any of the CDs they offer for sale. I'm afraid we can't order any of their work from our distributor, but I can give you the website so you can contact them."
Lady: "Let me give you this You-Tube address..." >rattles off insanely complex string of letters, numbers, and symbols<
Me: "I'm afraid that doesn't help ma'am, I can't pull up the video on my computer using that URL..."
Lady: "The what?"
Me: "...website address. And seeing the video won't help me find the song for you on a CD. Now, if you want to put in this address for The God Rockers' official site..."
Lady: "I don't see why you can't find that video!"
Me: "Youtube addresses tend to be very complicated. It's possible one of us made a mistake in typing or reading it."
Lady: "Well, let me tell it to you again-"
Me: "Ma'am, it's not going to help me. Your best bet is to look at this website I will give you and contact the band directly. Now, just put this address into the bar-"
Wash, rinse, repeat. For 21 minutes.
Lady: "How do I get rid of the address that's already in there?"
Me:

GAH! I like doing research and I don't mind helping people, but I wasn't going to get a sale out of this conversation anyway. FINALLY she accepted that she had to go to the website I was trying to give her and went away.

So, do you have a uterus? Then shut the fuck up.
For the first 8 months of my pregnancy, I climbed the stairs at work (we are a two-story store). But in the past two weeks, hauling my cetacean figure up the two flights was getting too difficult, plus my feet no longer fit in my shoes, they are so swollen. I figured I could take the last 8 weeks off and use the elevator. Most people are understanding when I ask if they mind using the elevator. Not this guy.
We get on the elevator.
Asshat: "Hey! This is cheating!"
Me: "Well, I'm afraid my feet are too swollen and painful to climb the stairs one hundred times a day." >sweet smile<
AH: "My friend ran a marathon a week before she gave birth!"
Me: "Your friend's a fucking idiot."
OK, I didn't say that, but I stared at the panel of buttons and ignored him. I think he got it.
Now, I think before you harangue a pregnant woman, you need to ask yourself 3 questions:
1. Am I now, or have I ever been, pregnant?
2. Will I ever become pregnant?
3. Do I even have a uterus and/or vagina?
If you answer 'no' to all of these, then keep your fucking mouth shut. Do I tell you how to take care of your penis, scrotum, and prostate? No, because I have none of these things. So, unless you've ever had a fetus in your womb, zip it.

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