What happens
It's the busiest window of a Saturday. You're on the register, Marcus is over in bedding, and a woman unpacks a slow cooker onto your counter with three people waiting behind her. The cooker is visibly used and the receipt is six weeks old. The laminated returns sheet taped by the register says thirty days, unopened, with receipt — this doesn't meet any part of that.
Denise, the manager, splits her week between this store and one in Fairhaven, and she isn't answering her phone. Marcus, who's been here since the store opened, drifts over when the customer's voice rises and tells you to just process the refund because it's not worth the scene — loud enough for her and the whole line to hear.
However you handled it, the woman eventually leaves, the line moves on, and Denise calls back an hour later mostly to check the register floats. When you explain what happened, she says 'okay, that's fine, thanks for handling it' and is already onto something else. You're left not knowing whether that meant you got it right, or that it just wasn't big enough for her to weigh in on.