Me: “Hi, do you need any help?”

Guy at the zoo: “Yeah… do the chimps, like, speak English?”

Me: “Ummm…. no.”

(The phone rings at 11pm, although our restaurant has been closed since 10pm.)

Me: “Thank you for choosing ***, how can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, I’d like to place an order for delivery.”

Me: “Sorry ma’am, we’re closed.”

Customer: “I don’t understand, why are you answering the phone?”

Me: “I have to. Even though we’re closed, we still might get important phone calls.”

Customer: “I still don’t understand, why are you closed?”

Me: “We have regular business hours to follow, and on weekdays we’re only open till 10pm.”

Customer: “But I don’t understand… why are you answering the phone if you’re closed, then?”

Me: *face desk*

(It went in circles like that for about ten minutes. I finally got tired of her ‘why’ questions and it had really had been a horrible night… so, I hung up the phone.)

Me, to other employees: “You wouldn’t believe this lady…”

*phone rings*

Me: “Thank you for choosing ***, how can I help you?”

Customer: “So why are you still answering the phone if you’re closed?”

Me: *multiple face desks*

Me: “Thanks for your purchase. Would you please sign anywhere on the receipt?”

Customer: ”Anywhere?”

Me: “Anywhere.”

Customer: “But there’s no line!”

Me: “That’s right–the printer doesn’t draw a line for this type of receipt, so just sign anywhere on the receipt.”

Customer: “Anywhere?”

Me: “Anywhere.”

Customer: “But there’s no LINE!”

Me: *facepalm*

Related:
Living On The Edge

Me: “Thank you for calling [bank], how may I help you?”

Customer: “Hello, I seem to have a problem with my online banking.”

Me: “Okay, I’d be happy to help…”

(I identify her and find nothing wrong with her accounts, flags or overdrafts.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m not seeing anything wrong on our end. Can you describe what the problem is?”

Customer: “I don’t know what the problem is. I just got a message from you that said ‘Contact Us’.”

Me: “Okay, can you read me the message you received?”

Customer: “It says ‘Contact Us’.”

Me: “That’s all, contact us and that’s it? No explanation?”

Customer: “That’s all! It just says ‘Contact Us’ in blue letters right above my messages.”

Me: “Wait, above your messages? You mean the link?”

Customer: “The what?”

Me: “Ma’am, the blue message to contact us is a hyperlink to a blank letter. It wasn’t telling you to contact us; the link is always there for feedback, like a suggestion box.”

Customer: “Oh… well, can I please speak with your supervisor! I cannot be the only one who thought this!”

(I transfer her over and proceed to bang my head against my keyboard.)

Me: “Ma’am, with this order, you received a free coupon for Cover Girl Cosmetics.”

Customer: “What, do you think I need it?”

Me: “Uh…”

Customer: “That’s very rude, telling someone they need makeup!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not suggesting you need makeup. I’m just offering it to you because the computer printed it out.”

Customer: “Oh, what, now the computer thinks I need makeup?”

Me: “No, ma’am… it prints out coupons for random items.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t need it any coupons from you, so there!” *storms off*

Me: *rubbing my temples* “Have a good day, ma’am.”

Customer: “Is the lemon pound cake fresh? Like, is it soft?”

Me: “All of our pastries are fresh, sir. Would you like a sample, to see if you like it?”

Customer: “Just let me feel it.”

(I put the slice of cake on a plate and watch resignedly as he pokes the cake full of holes.)

Customer: “Yeah, I guess that’s soft enough.”

Me: “Alright…”  

(I pick up the slice of cake with tongs and move to put it in a pastry bag.)

Customer: “Not THAT one! It’s got holes all in it!”

(A lady calls our travel office regarding a certain theme park in central Florida.)

Caller: “Do you allow sex offenders into your theme parks?”

Me: “Well, as hundreds of thousands of people enter our parks each day, we’re not able to ID each person and check their criminal history.”

Caller: “So you encourage sex offenders to come to a place filled with little children?”

Me: “No…”

Caller: “Do you have signs saying ‘No Sex Offenders’?”

Me: “Um, no. But as part of a sex offender’s parole or probation, they’re not allowed within a certain number of feet of children, so that would be law enforcement’s responsibility.”

Caller: “I’m appalled that you encourage sex offenders to come to your park. I’m going elsewhere!”

(I’d just finished helping a customer pick out everything she needs to start oil painting.)

Customer: “Do you sell drop cloths?”

Me: “I’m sorry, no. We don’t even sell anything like that.”

Customer: “Well, what about tarps?”

Me: “Sorry, we don’t sell those, either.”

Customer: “Do you have any plastic sheeting I could lay on my floor, in case my oil paint drips?”

Me: “No, ma’am.”

Customer: “What about vinyl sheeting?”

Me: “With all due respect, I answered your question the first time you asked it. It doesn’t matter how many times you reword your question, we simply don’t have what you’re looking for.”

Customer: “Well, do you have anything similar?”

Me: “…”

(This happened the day before Canadian Thanksgiving…)

Me: “Did you find everything you were looking for today?”

Customer: “I’ve been waiting fifteen minutes in line!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, it’s a busy day today with the last minute shopping!”

Customer: “Well, you should have all the lanes open! Why isn’t that lane open?”

Me: “I assume she’s on her break at the moment…”

Customer: “You shouldn’t GET breaks when it’s busy!”

(A disabled customer on crutches starts screaming racist epithets at her cashier.)

Disabled customer: “You g**d*** n*****! You b****! How could you do that to me?! This is discrimination!”

Cashier: *totally shocked*

(I walk over right away. Keep in mind, I’m white.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry you’re upset, but could you please watch your language? There are children here. Now, I’d be ha–”

Disabled customer: “Y’all hate people with disabilities! F*** the children! And f*** you, you n*****! I’m calling corporate!”

Me: “If that’s what you want to do, ma’am, I can’t stop you.”

Disabled customer: “D*** right you can’t, you black b****!”

(She suddenly throws down her “crutches” and very easily walks out of the store.)

Another customer, to me: “Wait, did she just call you black?”

(She did end up calling corporate office, but it was dismissed because she kept calling the operator a sand monkey and saying that she was going to burn in h*** for stealing white people’s jobs.)

(To do this day, whenever we get bored we play with her crutches in the back stock room.)