I dropped by Chisholm Hunter in Aberdeen the day before a major celebration to pick up what I thought would be a thoughtful gift. Not once did any member of staff mention that all sales were final. There wasn’t a hint of signage, no verbal heads-up—nothing to prepare me for a complete inability to get a refund on a last-minute purchase. Returning the next day for what should have been a quick and polite refund, I was instead greeted by stone-faced indifference. No “hello,” no welcoming smile—just cold shoulders. Store manager Caroline breezily told me, “You should’ve read the tiny print on your receipt,” as if burying critical policy in microscopic text absolves them of any responsibility. No one bothered to ask why I might not have noticed the barely legible disclaimer. I was then left standing there for what felt like an eternity—surely on the CCTV—while every tick of the clock hammered home how unwelcome I was. Rather than a single apology or even a shred of sympathy, I got scoffs and sighs. It was a masterclass in customer-blaming: I was made to feel not just unwelcome, but embarrassingly stupid. The utter lack of empathy blew me away. At no point did anyone show regret for the confusion or extend a simple “sorry” for the hassle. Chisholm Hunter’s priorities are crystal clear: their archaic, hidden policies come before actual human decency. I’ll never darken their doorstep again, and I beg anyone thinking of shopping here to reconsider. Unless you want to be lectured, belittled, and stonewalled by uncaring staff, steer well clear of Chisholm Hunter Aberdeen.