Category: Crazy Requests

Some customers can be demanding, but within reason. These customers however make some requests that go beyond demanding, beyond reasonable, beyond possible! These requests, like the customers, are crazy!

Out Of Control (Alt) Delete

| Kansas City, MO, USA | Crazy Requests, Family & Kids, Technology

Me: “Thank you for calling Tech Support. This is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Elderly Woman: “I need you to delete a website!”

Me: *thinking she means she wants to cancel her account with us* “Okay, ma’am, I can help you with that. Can I have the name of your website so I can look up the account?”

Elderly Woman: “I don’t know the name! It’s got that Satanic Marilyn Manson on it! HE HAS SEX WITH SHEEP!”

Me: *stunned* “Umm, is this a website you own?”

Elderly Woman: “No, he has sex with sheep! I need you to hit the button and delete him from the Internet!”

Me: “If this is a website that’s not on our servers, there’s no way I can delete it.”

Elderly Woman: “Just hit the button!”

Me: “I don’t know what to tell you.”

(Someone else picks up the phone, a much younger sounding man, presumably the woman’s son or adult grandson.)

Younger Man: “Can you just hit the button and delete the website so she won’t have to worry about it?”

Me: *guessing that I have to play along* “Umm, sure, I’ll see what I can do.”

(The man hands the phone back to the elderly woman.)

Elderly Woman: “He has SEX WITH SHEEP!”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I’ll hit the button and delete it from the Internet.”

Elderly Woman: “Oh, thank you! He’s the Devil! *hangs up*

On Her Own Little Aisle

| The Netherlands | Bad Behavior, Crazy Requests

(I have just finished counting my till and am heading towards the canteen to change and go home after a 10-hour shift. On my way there, a woman in a scooter stops me.)

Customer: “Excuse me!”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “Where can I find [specific liquor]?”

Me: *not willing to walk her to it as I’m off duty* “It’s in the next aisle, near the end.”

Customer: “Can’t you get it for me? I can’t go driving around the store just searching! I need a lot of things and you know where they are.”

Me: “I’m sure it’s there. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

(I go to the canteen, take off my work clothes, and change into my regular clothes. I head out and bump into the same woman.)

Customer: “Oh, are you off?”

Me: “Yes, I’m heading home.”

Customer: “Can you get me the milk?”

Me: *waving* “It’s over there.”

Customer: “It’s too high up; I can’t get it from my scooter. Get it for me.”

(I sigh and figure I’d be off faster if I just follow her commands.)

Customer: “See, now we’re getting somewhere. This is customer service; you’d better learn it quick!”

Methadone And Done

| UK | At The Checkout, Crazy Requests

(I work behind the chemist counter and a lot of addicts come in to get their methadone. This one turns up five minutes before closing.)

Customer: “Here you go.” *hands over her prescription*

Me: “Thanks, I’ll just go get the pharmacist for you.”

(Whilst she’s waiting she notices the slides we used to detach our counter-caches which store all of the notes.)

Customer: “What are those?”

Colleague: “Those get the counter-caches off for us, for cashing up.”

(The customer picks one up and starts playing with it.)

Me: “The pharmacist will be right out.”

Customer: “No problem. In the meantime I’d like one of these.” *hands me the slide for the counter-caches*

Me: *thinking she’s joking* “Um, sorry, I don’t think that’s allowed.”

Customer: “Don’t laugh at me! GIVE ME THE F****** COUNTER THING!”

(It escalated from there. She refused to leave the shop or take her methadone, and we had to call the police and stand there whilst she trashed the store. We ended up staying an hour late to clean it all up. The pharmacist rang her doctor and asked for her to be sent somewhere else for her methadone and possibly be given a stronger dose.)

Sadly That’s A Wrap

| FL, USA | Crazy Requests, Holidays, Theme Of The Month

(While I work at this store normally, I’m in on my day off, and not dressed at all in uniform. I am about as far as you can get from our uniform, which requires a button down, and apron, and pants. I’m wearing a dress. A woman approaches me as I am doing my shopping.)

Woman: “Don’t you work here?”

Me: *thinking she has been in before and recognized me, which isn’t uncommon* “Yes, ma’am. I’m just in today doing some shopping—”

Woman: “—wrap these.” *shoves several items to be gift wrapped at me*

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t wrap those for you. I’m a guest today, just like you. I’m not actually working.”

Woman: “Why are you refusing to help me? Just wrap them. I’s not that hard!”

Me: “No, it’s not. It’s also not hard to understand that when I am not clocked in, I am not obligated to do anything for you, or anyone else who walks through that door. And anyway, there is an employee just over there who would be more than happy to wrap your purchases.”

Woman: “No. I asked you, so you are going to do it! You work here and I am the customer!”

(This argument goes around in circles for several more turns, the woman refusing to acknowledge the fact that I am not technically required to help her.)

Me: *giving up* “What color paper would you like, ma’am?”

Woman: “Finally! The Christmas paper. And all of these are to be wrapped separately.”

(I end up spending thirty minutes wrapping this woman’s presents, just to get her to shut up and leave. My coworker, who would of had to deal with her had I not been there, bought me a coffee as thanks for not forcing the woman on her, instead.)

Anything But Basic

| IL, USA | Crazy Requests, Food & Drink

(I have just finished ringing Customer #1, and wished her a good evening. I turn to Customer #2:)

Customer #2: “Hello, I need someone to get me something from back in the store.”

Me: “Sure, I’ll be happy to help! What can we get you?”

Customer #2: “I need two bags of [Brand], chicken and pea for cats. It has a green stripe on the top.”

Me: “All right, are you sure about the formula? I don’t think [Brand] comes in chicken, it’s usually turkey.”

Customer #2: “Yes, I get it here all the time. It’s chicken.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

(Upon reaching the aisle with our [Brand] formulas, I find they are all either turkey & potato, or salmon & potato. Rather than automatically assume that this is the bag, since changing proteins can be rather serious for cats, I decide to go back up and confirm what she wanted.)

Me: “Ma’am, it’s as I thought… there is no [Sub-Brand] chicken and pea. It’s only turkey and salmon protein formulas.”

Customer #2: “No, I didn’t say [Sub-Brand], did I? I said [Brand]. I get it here all the time. It’s very expensive. You obviously didn’t look in the right spot or don’t know what you’re talking about. I suppose I’m going to have to go all the way back there myself to educate you on where it is, and I’m not very happy about it.”

(While she’s on her rambling fit, I page my manager to the front to assist the customer for two reasons: one, it is obvious she is going to be an issue and two, I have to ring the customers present in my line. The whole time she continues to ramble on until Customer #1, who has not yet left, interjects:)

Customer #1: “Ma’am, if you’d stop complaining for two seconds, you’d understand that he did what he could to find your food.”

Customer #2: “Then he needs to get someone–”

Customer #1: “If you were paying attention you’d hear that he already did page an associate up to assist you. Maybe if you’d shut up you’d notice that instead of moaning. I don’t work here, but you’ve gotta be polite when talking to people.”

(Around this time, my manager has arrived at the front. After the long transaction, my manager comes back up to me.)

Manager: “So… that lady has issues. I tell her we’ll find whatever it is she’s looking for if she’d just describe the bag to me. When she tells me it’s ‘[Brand]’ I automatically think of [Sub-Brand], and she yelled that it wasn’t. She then said that it was this bag of [Different Brand], which I can’t even see anyplace on the bag it says the word ‘basics.’”

Me: “Yeah, I tried to explain that, too…”

Manager: “Then she says she’s legally blind and that that would explain that… Fine. She has me check the bags over for holes, and they look good. Then, as I’m ringing her up, her savers card can’t be found, and she complains about that and how we never get it right and that she’s going to shop at the other store from now on. Then I ask her which car is hers and where she wants them in the car… She tells me ‘the red one.’ I then ask again where she wants them and she said ‘the. Red. Car!’ So I say, ‘The. Trunk? Or. The. Front. Seat?’ So, she has me toss them in the front seat…”

(Moments later…)

Manager: “So… wait… she told me she’s legally blind. What the h*** is she doing driving?!

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