Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer: “I need to return this d*** camera.”

Me: “Sure, was it not working?”

Customer: “I just don’t want it, okay?”

Me: “Okay. Have you opened the box yet?”

Customer: “Why does that matter?”

Me: “Well, as the sticker on the box says, if the box is opened and you return it, I have to charge you a restocking fee.”

Customer: “Oh. No… no, it hasn’t been opened.”

(I look and the box has been clearly opened, with a torn seal.)

Me: “Uh… are you sure it hasn’t been opened?”

Customer:  ”LOOK! ARE YOU CALLING ME A F***ING LIAR? Where is your manager? I spend hundreds of thousands of dollars here and this is how I’m treated?!”

Me: “Ma’am, if you just–”

Customer: “THESE PEOPLE CALL CUSTOMERS LIARS! DON’T SHOP HERE!”

Me: “Ma’am, I believe you! I will return it!”

Customer: “That’s right you will!”

Me: “Can I see your receipt?”

Customer: “It’s in the box.”

(It’s past closing time and I’ve just dealt with a rush of 3 new applications that took 15 minutes each, and am moving on to the next customer.)

Me: “Sorry about that, what can I do for you?”

Customer: “Well, these movies aren’t working. They are all scratched.”

Me: “Sorry about that. Pick whatever you want and I’ll exchange them.”

Customer: “Thank you.”

(A few minutes later, a big, flannel clad man walks in.)

Customer’s husband: “My wife was just in here for half an hour! ”

Me: “I’m sorry about that…” *explains situation*

Customer’s husband: “I don’t care! You need to have more than one register open! Where is your manager?!”

Me: “He is in the back. We were suppose to close 45 minutes ago which is why I’m the only one on the register.”

Customer’s husband: “You idiot! I need to see him now!”

Me: “He’ll be here… now calm down!”

Customer’s husband: “YOU MADE MY PREGNANT WIFE STAND IN LINE FOR HALF AN HOUR!”

Me: “Well, sir… maybe you should have been a man and came in here instead of your wife.”

Customer’s husband: *speechless*

(My manager had to pretend to fire me in front of him, but we later joked about him in the back room.)

Customer: “I have a big problem. You cut off my head!”

Me: “I’m sorry? How did I cut off your head?”

(The customer shows me an obviously self-taken picture, with the top of his head removed.)

Me: “Sir, it looks like it was taken that way.”

Customer: “No it wasn’t! My whole head was there when I took it. I’m sure!”

Me: “Okay, let me see your memory card…”

(The customer hands it to me, and I go in the lab and pull it up on the computer. Sure enough, he chopped his own head off in the picture.)

Me: “Sir, that is the whole image, and the top of your head isn’t in it.”

Customer: “But it’s DIGITAL, can’t you fix it?”

Me: “You can’t create something from nothing.”

Customer: “But… but… but… I need a photo for a dating website!”

Me: “Give me the camera and go stand over there.”

Customer: *excited* “Hot d***! You can be my best man!”

Me: “A thank you card will be enough.”

(Skip ahead 9 months…)

Female customer: “Is your name ***?”

Me: “Yes, can I help you?”

Female customer: “My husband wanted you to have this.” *hands me an envelope*

(I open the envelope, and sure enough there’s a thank you card with a picture of him and his wife. He actually got married and sent her in with the card!)

Customer: “Look! My friend told me I could get this type of hammer at your store! Now go get it for me!”

Cashier: “Sir, I already told you… we don’t have ANY hammers back here that aren’t already stocked on the shelves.”

Customer: “LOOK HERE. F**K YOU! I KNOW YOU’RE TRYING TO SAVE MONEY BY SWITCHING OUT YOUR STOCKS! GET ME THIS HAMMER!”

(At this point, I come to the front of the store, overhearing what’s going on; note that I’m the manager.)

Me: “Is there a problem?”

Customer: “Yes sir! Your employee here is not doing what I tell her to!”

Me: “Well, you need to calm down and understand that we don’t have what you’re looking for. So maybe you should go back to shelves and check–”

Customer: “F**K THAT!!! IT’S NOT THERE, OKAY?! YOU NEED TO F**KING GET ME WHAT I ASK FOR!”

Me: “That’s it. Get out of my store.”

Customer: “What? NO!”

Me: “Sir, get out, or I have to take you out.”

Customer: “Then do it!”

(I go around the counter and approach the customer. I yank him by his collar & drag him to the door.)

Me: “Now, then… you wanna apologize and maybe come back in?”

Customer: “No! I just want my hammer! God, what is this madness?!”

Me: *puts the customer down*

Customer: *confused* “… What is it?”

(I turn back to the cashier, who nods in approval. I then turn back to face the customer.)

Me: “Madness? THIS! IS! SPARTAAAAAAAAA!” *kicks customer out of store and slams door*

(The night before, I called the police because of a hit and run in the parking lot of my hotel. The cops put some kid in handcuffs because of a tip I gave them. The next night the kid’s mother found me.)

Mom: “Hey! You’re the girl Alice that was working last night!”

Me: “Yes ma’am, I am.”

Mom: “You know that the cops put handcuffs on my 16 year-old son?”

Me: “Yes ma’am, I was here for that.”

Mom: “Well, the police told me a girl named Alice told them my son wrecked that car last night. I want to know why you told them that.”

Me: “Well, ma’am. Your son was down here talking about the car accident he was involved in last night.”

Mom: “But the cops put him in handcuffs!”

Me: “…”

Mom: “My son is only 16 years old, and they put him in handcuffs and didn’t even tell me!”

Me: “Well, what would you like me to do about that?”

Mom: “I want you to apologize.”

Me: “For what?”

Mom: “For calling to police and getting my son handcuffed!”

Me: “You want me to apologize for reporting a crime?”

Mom: “Yes!”

Me: “Well, I’m not sorry.”

Mom: “But the police put him in handcuffs!”

Me: “Well, sounds like you have a problem with the police.”

Mom: “Listen here, b****, I’m not leaving until you say you’re sorry!”

Me: “You might be a while ma’am, because I’m not sorry!”

(It’s Halloween, and I’m dressed up as a vampire and wearing a pentacle necklace. The crew is planning on going out after work for a party.)

Me: “Did you find everything you needed tonight?”

Customer: “Yes, thank you. Can I just say that I think it was very nice of them to let you all dress up for tonight? I really like what you have on.”

Me: “Thank you, ma’am.”

Customer: “But don’t you think you took it a little too far?”

Me: “Uh… took what too far?”

Customer: “Well I understand that you’re supposed to be some type of vampire, but don’t you think that necklace is taking it too far?”

Me: “Oh, that. That’s not part of my costume, I always wear that.”

Customer: *loudly* “Well if you want to risk burning in H*** for wearing that devil worshiping symbol, that’s just fine with me… but they shouldn’t be letting you wear that here in a public place!”

Me: *sarcastically* “Well, why shouldn’t they let me wear it? After all, we all practice together and I’m the high priestess. In fact as soon as you leave, we’re gonna close up the store, start a bonfire in the parking lot, and then dance naked around it until dawn.”

Customer, to one of my managers: “Aren’t you going to do anything about what she said to me?”

Manager #1: “Yes, ma’am. As soon as you leave, we’re going to close the store.”

Customer: “THAT’S IT?!”

Manager #2: “Of course not, ma’am. You heard the rest of our… plans.”

(And with the kind of timing that only happens once in a lifetime, a stock boy unwittingly walks out of the back room while taking his uniform shirt off at the same time. The customer practically runs out of the store.)

(I work on a dinner cruise. As I’m eating a handful of Goldfish crackers and I see a man yelling at me from the gangway.)

Customer: “Hey! Hey you!”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “What’s that you’re eating?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “Are you eating NUTS?”

Me: “No, they’re Goldfish.”

Customer: “Oh okay. Can I have some?”

Me: “Are you serious?”

Customer: “Yea, I want some. I’m so hungry!”

Me: “There is food on the boat, sir. Just wait until you get on.”

Customer: “No, but I want what you’re eating–those nuts!”

Me: “Sir, it’s 11:00 at night, I’m working until 5:00 AM, and I’ve been here since 4:30 this afternoon. I have not eaten and will not eat for a while. So no, you cannot have my six Goldfish, as they are MINE.”

Customer: “That’s f***ed up. I can’t have some of that food in your hand?”

Me: “No, no you can’t!”

(A new employee informs me that she spotted a little boy sneaking some candy in his pants. I confront the boy and an older woman about it.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am. Hey, kiddo, what’s in your pocket?”

Boy: “Nothing!”

Granny: “Oh, h***, again?! Boy, if you don’t put that d***ed candy back, that lady gonna call the po-po on you! And I ain’t gonna stop her none.”

(The boy, crying, hands me 2 candy bars and a handful of suckers. I thank the lady, and get back to work. A few minutes later, the boy’s mother comes up to me.)

Mama: “Is that the b****?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Mama: “Aint’ talking to you.”

Boy: “Yes, mama.”

Mama: “Girl, you being rude to my son?”

Me: “No, ma’am.”

Mama: “So why you take away his candy?”

Me: “Because it wasn’t paid for.”

Mama: “Says who? I got him that candy!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s at least 100 degrees outside, and your boy had unmelted chocolate in his pocket. He didn’t bring that in with him. Besides, he was seen taking the candy off the shelf.”

Mama: “What? Who said that?” *turns to the other cashiers* “Which one of you a**holes told on my boy?”

Me: “Excuse me, but that’s not important.”

Mama: “What’s your point, then?!”

Me: “The point is, your boy was caught stealing.”

Mama: “Forget about the d***ed candy, you nosy b****! Ain’t none of your business!”

Me: “Ma’am, your son was spotted shoplifting, which is a crime. You’re lucky I don’t report him.”

Mama: “You stupid b****! I don’t give a flying f*** about the candy!”

(She raises her hands as if to hit me.)

Me, to a coworker: “Call the manager, he should be in by now.”

(Just then, Granny appears out of nowhere and smacks her daughter with her handbag.)

Granny: “WHAT THE H*** YOU DOING, GIRL?” *continues to smack and berate her daughter* “Upsetting people like that! No common sense! S***! YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THAT!”

Mama: “But, Ma–”

Granny: “SHUT YOUR MOUTH GIRL! GET IN THE D***ED CAR!” *turns to me* “I’m so sorry about that. She crazy, I swear to God. She’ll never come back in here, I promise.”

Me: “…”

Granny, to daughter: “CAN’T TAKE YOUR CRAZY A** NOWHERE! S***!”

(She walks out like nothing happened, and true to her word, I’ve not seen that lady since.)

Related:
Dads: Gotta Love ‘Em

Me: “Thank you for calling ***, how may I help you?”

Older caller: “Ma’am, do y’all sell olive oil?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Older caller: “But do you have it in a can?”

Me: “I’ve never seen one, but I know we have it in bottles of varying–”

Older caller: “Could you check for me?”

(I go down the aisle and sure enough, we carry massive 3-liter tin containers.)

Me: “Ma’am, sorry about the wait. But to answer your question, we do have it in large three-liter cans as well as bottles of varying size. If you want I can pull one off the shelf and hold it at the Service De–”

Older caller: “So you DO have olive oil in a can?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. Aisle four.”

Older caller: “WELL, YOU BETTER TELL HER THAT POPEYE’S LOOKIN’ FOR HER!” *hangs up*

Customer: “I want to see that brooch.”

Me: “Here it is–”

Customer: “How much is it?”

Me: “Well, it’s–”

Customer: “You don’t need to know where I get my money from!”

Me: “Oh, okay. Well, it costs–”

Customer: “I’m on a disability pension.”

Me: “It costs thirty–”

Customer: “And it’s none of your business why!”

Me: “Thirty five dol–”

Customer: “I had an accident and broke my leg.”

Me: “…”

Customer: “Do you want to know why I’m buying this?”

Me: “Umm… no, it’s okay.”

Customer: “BECAUSE GREEN IS MY FAVORITE COLOR!”