Story 46/1001

• overwhelm
• retailer
• decide

From the moment she walked in, I knew who she is. Her short, brown hair with chunky blonde highlights; her troll-like walk; her higher-than-thou head bobbing.

My very own first Karen of the day.

She’ didn’t even take the time to walk around and see what we offer. No. As they always do with a small retailer like we are, she went straight to the register.

I gave her the biggest smile I can, while she leaned on the white desk between us.

“Hello, how may I help you?”

“I purchased a few items from you a few weeks ago. I would like to return them.” She said and put a paper bag on the table.

“Do you have a receipt?”

“I paid with a credit card. I can show you on my phone.”

“I’m sorry, I need your receipt for this.”

“Why? I can show you when and what I paid for.”

There it is.

Some may be annoyed by this, but I love dealing with Karens. They are the highlights of my day.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t make a return without a receipt.”

“It said on your page that a credit card listing of the items is enough.”

It will happen.

“Check your page!”

Soon.

“Ma’am, there is no such thing. I’ve been working here for years, and we have no such policies.” I smiled, slightly leaning in.

“Don’t do that!” Her voice got higher and higher. “I have high blood pressure, if you overwhelm me like that – you know what?”

It’s coming.

“I want to speak with your manager!”

There it is.

I smiled and happily rang up our manager. He walked as slowly as he could, just so he can annoy her even more. She was tapping on the desk with her colorful fingernails, and frowning. Her skin became as red as our logo. It was indeed a sight to see.

“What seems to be the issue?” Our manager said.

“You obviously need to train your workers better. If you don’t give me my return, I’ll call the police. Let’s see what you’ll decide then.”

“What happened?” He said, looking at me.

“This lady wants a return, but she doesn’t have a receipt.”

“I paid with my card! That is enough. I can just show you, here, on my phone.”

“Ma’ am, I told you, we don’t-” I said, but my manager stopped me, lifting his hand.

“May I see it?”

This is weird. The manager looked at her phone and rang the items.

“A new policy came out a few days ago. If you paid via credit card, we can track the receipt in the system. Helps save the trees.”

The Karen smirked, demanding an apology from me. I stood there, in shock.

The Karen was right.

The Karen won.