(I’ve misunderstood a question and directed the customer to the wrong aisle. I’m trying to tell her the correct aisle.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry. I thought you meant something else. What you’re looking for is actually down aisle 8. It’s the last item on the right.”

Customer: “I don’t believe you, and I’m too tired to look for it.”

Me: “Ma’am, I can verify that it is in aisle 8. There is a display a few feet away so you won’t have to walk all the way down there.”

Customer: “What is the store phone number?”

(The customer dials the store number with the phone in front of me. It’s on speaker phone so I hear ringing on her end and then ringing on my phone. I pick up the phone and look right at the customer standing no more than a foot away from me.)

Me: “Hello [store name].”

Customer: “Yes, hi. I have a question about a product you sell. What aisle is [product] down?”

Me: “Aisle 8. Last item on the right.”

Customer: “Thank you.” *hangs up, looks at me* “At least she knew what she was talking about!”

(The restaurant is very busy, so food wait time is longer than usual.)

Table 1: “When is our food coming out? This is ridiculous; we’ve been waiting 20 minutes!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. We are very busy right now, but I’ll be bringing out your food very shortly.”

Table 1: “Well, I hope so! You’re the worst server we’ve ever had!”

Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way. Like I said, it’ll be out shortly.”

(I move to another table.)

Me: “I’m really sorry about the wait, I’ve checked on your food and it will be out shortly. I’m so sorry. I realize you’ve been waiting 40 minutes.”

Table 2: “That’s not a problem at all…don’t worry about it.”

Me: “I’d like to offer you your meals on the house, and thank you again for your patience.”

Table 1: *overhearing* “How come WE don’t get our meals on the house?”

Table 2: *to table 1* “Because WE’VE been waiting POLITELY!”

(A customer walks up to the counter and sets a plastic shopping bag down.)

Customer: “You have to help me!”

Me: “I’d be more than happy to assist you, ma’am. What seems to be the problem today?”

Customer: “I’m being hacked! You have to get them to stop using my computer!”

Me: “Do you have your computer with you so that I can see what’s going on?”

(She just turns the bag upside down. Parts of a laptop spill everywhere motherboard, LCD panel, hinges, keyboard, palm rest, etc.)

Me: “Uh, ma’am? Why did you dismantle your computer?”

Customer: “That’s the only way to get them to stop! When computers are powered down, they aren’t really off! Those people in India are hacking into them while you have them off and are using it
to teach their kids how to speak English! That’s why jobs are outsourced!”

Me: “I really don’t think I can help you, ma’am.”

Customer: “Well, put back together my computer! I have a warranty with you people. I’ll get the FBI or police to help me with the hackers.”

Me: “Our warranty does not cover you taking apart your computer.”

Customer: “Oh my God! You’re one of the people helping those hackers, aren’t you?”

Me: *speechless*

Customer: “Aren’t you?!”

(A man and his son walks into the guest services office.)

Customer: “The rides person won’t let my son get on the pirate ship ride.”

Me: “Your son doesn’t appear to be tall enough. Will you have him stand by the height chart for me?”

(I measure the child and he is a good two inches shorter than the height requirement for the pirate ride.)

Me: “Sir, your son is not within the height category. He cannot legally ride the ride.”

Customer: “Well, can’t you just stamp his hand and let him get on since I said it was okay?”

Me: “No sir, that is illegal. Your son will not be safe on that ride as the restraints are not built for smaller riders. We do have a kid’s version of that ride.”

Customer: “I’m going to get my wife. She’s wearing heels today. He can just put those on and be tall enough.”

Me: “Any shoes that are more than two inches thick need to be removed before we can measure the child, so that won’t work.”

Son: “Daddy, why can’t we ride the rides?”

Customer: “Because that horrible lady thinks you’re a midget.”

(While reviewing an adoption application for a very agile Border Collie, I come to the point where it talks about the adopter’s housing situation and fence.)

Me: “I’m unfamiliar with a Cyclone Fence. Can you please tell me what that is made of?”

Adopter: “It’s linked like a chain-linked fence.”

Me: “Oh, okay! So you have a 5′ chain link fence then? And the dog will be left either in the home or yard with a doggie door while you are gone, right?”

Adopter: “Yeah.”

Me: “That sounds wonderful. I would just like to mention that you may want to keep the dog either in a crate or in a room of the house for the first week or so. Too many times we hear stories where people have their new dog outside unattended and the dog jumps the fence and runs away.”

Adopter: “She can’t jump a 6′ fence.”

Me: “So your fence is 6′, not 5′ like you put on the application?”

Adopter: “No dog can jump my 10′ fence.”

Me: “Sir, you fence was 6′ a moment ago.”

Adopter: “Well, I don’t know. It’s taller than me! It’s like 14′ high!”

Me: “Really, it doesn’t matter how tall your fence is. I am just saying that if you take the dog home and leave her unattended, she could get worried and climb your fence and get out. No one here wants her to get lost.”

Adopter: “My fence is 16′ tall! No one can get over it!”

Me: “Okay, sir.”

Adopter: “I am going to sue you!”

(I am a 17 year old girl working at a pizzeria. A tourist who looks about forty approaches me, looking angry.)

Tourist: “How dare you sell this food in an Italian restaurant!”

Me: “Sir, I’m not entirely sure what you mean.”

Tourist: “This food! Don’t you know that pizza and ice cream are American? How dare you take credit for what we have done! This is ridiculous! I am going to sue you!”

Me: “Sir, that really isn’t necessary. I–”

Tourist: “Don’t you take that tone with me! Stop sounding all professional! It’s annoying!”

Me: “Sorry, sir, you-”

Tourist: “Shut up! This food is American! How dare you be so racist against Americans!

Me: “Sir, I am originally American, so why would I–”

Tourist: “This food is American!”

Me: “Sir, I–”

Tourist: “American!”

Me: “Ask anyone anywhere. Look it up on the Internet, even. I assure you that all this food is Italian.”

Tourist: “The customer is always right!” *storms off*

(I continue to serve customers. 25 minutes later he comes in again.)

Tourist: “Yeah, so I looked it up. Turns out it was Italian. Uh, so can I have your number?”

(I’ve worked in the store for over a year. There is also a small pin on my badge saying ‘serving you since 2008’.)

Customer: “Hi! Are you new? I haven’t seen you here before.”

Me: “Actually, no, I’ve worked here for a year and a half.”

Customer: “No way! I shop here everyday! I’ve never seen you!”

Me: “Sir, I assure you that I’ve worked here for that long. Look at my name badge.”

Customer: “I want to see your manager! You’re a liar! It says you’ve been here since 2008!”

Me: “I have.”

Customer: “Who did you steal that pin from?”

Me: “It’s mine.”

(My manager comes over.)

Manager: “How can I help you?”

Customer: “This girl is a liar! She’s says she worked here since 2008!”

Manager: “She has.”

Customer: “2008 hasn’t even happened yet!”

Me: “Thanks for coming in today, sir. What can I do for you?”

Customer: “I can’t get this thing to work! I set up the password and now I can’t remember it.”

Me: “Alright, that’s an easy fix. Let’s go to the site to reset your password.”

(I guide the customer to the correct site and we get to the option to answer a secret question of the user’s choice. The question: ‘Am I a s***head?’)

Customer: “Hmm…” *types ‘No’*

Computer: “I’m sorry, the answer you have selected is incorrect. Please try again.”