Three days at the complaints desk

A customer reports a theft

Years ago, I worked at the complaints desk of a big department store. For three days.

I was only part-time, so I didn’t have to deal with the serious complaints. I got the odd ones: people messing with us or just passing the time.

One day a man who looked about fifty came over, wearing cropped pants.

“Someone’s stolen something of mine.”

A theft inside the store was serious, so I immediately went to get a staff member.

“What’s been stolen?”

“The hems of my pants.”

…The staff member said, “I’ll leave this to you,” and vanished. I had time on my hands too, so I asked:

“Where were they stolen?”

“On the fourth-floor landing. I looked away for a second.”

So I made something up. “That’s the work of a professional. Japanese trouser hems have been selling very well overseas lately.”

That made him angry.

“There’s a hem department on the eighth floor. If you go there, you’ll find hems that fit you.”

“All right.”

A little later, he came back.

“Are you kidding me? They don’t have any hems that fit me!”