(An couple of US tourists come into our library and use the public computers for the Internet. When they start leaving, they come to me again and give me 2 Estonian Crowns.)

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t take this.”

Customer: “What do you mean you can’t take this?! I got it from the bank just down the street. I know it’s not fake. And it says in the rules that it costs 2.”

Me: “No, I mean–”

(He cuts me off and starts ranting on how he never wanted to come to Europe anyway and how everything is better in the States. His wife and I manage to calm him down after a few minutes of loud ranting.)

Me:“Sir, I can’t take your money because just using the computer is free. Only printing costs 2 Crowns.”

Customer: “Oh. I thought… I mean, I always have to pay in… well… America is still better than Europe!” *hurries out with his wife*

Related:
One Last Parting Shot, Part 2
One Last Parting Shot

(I work for an online traffic school and for some of the counties, we need them to put answers to security questions.

Me: “Hi, this is ***, how can I help you?”

Caller: “Hey, it says that I missed a security question and that I need to call this number to continue.”

Me: “Okay, what question did you miss?”

Caller: “I missed what is my favorite animal.”

(I get his personal information and look up his answer.)

Me: “Sir, the answer we have here says ‘Pussy’. You are aware that this is also the same answer you have for… your favorite food?”

Caller: *click*

(A man comes out of the fitting room with a pair of pants and talks to my coworker.)

Customer: “So… it says here on the hanger, that it’s size 34. The tag says 34, and this other tag says 34. But there’s no freaking way I can fit into these! So what does that mean?

Coworker: “Well, I guess that means you’re not a size 34…”

Customer: “Oh. Thanks.”

(A lady comes up to me with a cart.)

Lady: “Where’s the toilet paper that’s on sale?”

Me: “It should be in aisle 18.”

(We’re looking for the toilet paper when another man comes up and stands quietly nearby, clearly waiting for me to help him. The lady turns to the man and RAMS him with her cart.)

Lady: “Stay back f***er! She’s helping me first!”

Man: “Excuse me? I was just waiting to ask where the cereal is–”

Lady: *rams cart into him again* “F*** OFF!”

(Surprisingly, the man did not retaliate and I waved him off to the appropriate aisle.)

From the Not Always Right store:

Customers Attack (red)

Customers Attack (black)

(It’s Christmastime, which is always hellish at our video game store. There is a giant line running all the way to the back of the store, and I am serving a young boy and his grandfather.)

Me: “Your total comes to $68.98.”

Customer: “What? That’s too high. That game was fifty dollars.”

Me: “Oh, the game is actually $59.99.”

Customer: “I told you I didn’t want any of your extra s***. I just want this game thing he wants.”

Me: “I’m sorry you misread the price sir, but that language in unacceptable in this store, especially with so many young people nearby.”

Customer: “You know what, I didn’t come in here for your attitude. I came in here to buy my stupid grandson’s stupid game!”

Me: “Then it’s $68.98…”

Customer: “These games are so absolutely stupid. You people waste your time and your money on this s***! You people are all fat and unemployed and pathetic! You game people need to get f***ing jobs!”

Another customer in line: “She’s doing her job right now, idiot.”

Another customer in line #2: “Get lost, jerk!”

Me: “That line behind you is composed of gamers, sir.”

(At this point, the entire lineup starts yelling at the guy that he’s a jerk.)

Customer: *flees the store*

(For the next half hour every single customer, most of them probably gamers, tells me that I don’t deserve that kind of treatment, and apologizes for him. It is easily one of the best days I’ve ever had at work.)

Me:  ”… we will pick you up at the Pulliam airport.”

Customer:  ”How do you spell Pulliam?”

Me:  ”P as in Paul, U as Umbrella, L as in Lily–”

Customer:  ”Lily doesn’t start with O.  You meant to say Oscar.”

Me:  ”But the letter is L. As in Lily, Lock, Luke…”

Customer:  ”None of those words start with O.”

Me:  ”You’re right… anyway, it’s spelled it PULLIAM.”

Customer:  ”You mean PUOOIAM.”

Me:  ”Sure…”

(The diner I work in is a 24 hour restaurant, and closes only on Thanksgiving Day, Christmas Day, and New Years Eve after 6pm.)

Me: “Hello, thank you for calling [diner]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Yes, what time do you close?”

Me: “We don’t close until Thanksgiving–we’re 24 hours.”

Caller: “I don’t care what time you close on Thanksgiving, I want to know when you close TONIGHT.”

Me: “… 5 pm.”

Caller: “THANK YOU.” *hangs up*

Related:
Just Tell ‘Em What They Want To Hear, Part Two
Just Tell ‘Em What They Want To Hear

(We’re helping a customer inside our gas station. Suddenly, a Camaro peels off out of the parking lot, squealing its tires.)

Customer: *yells* “Okay! We get it! You have a small penis!”

Bookstore customer: “Do you have the CD, Lord Lift Our Voices Up On High, Volume 11?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry, we don’t have it. We do have Volumes 9 and 10. I can show you where they are.”

Customer: “No, no, I already have those. I like them. Do you have God Loves America, Volume 12?”

Me: “Let me check… yes! We have that one. I can show you.”

Customer: “Do you have God Loves America, Volume 11?”

Me: “Yes. I can show–”

Customer: “Do you have God Loves America, Volume 10?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “Volume 9?”

Me: “Yes.”

(This continues until we get to Volume 3.)

Me: “Would you like to know about Volumes 1 and 2?”

Customer: “No, I have those. I like them. Have you heard them?”

Me: “No… so, let me just get these CDs for you.”

Customer: “No thanks.”

(I’ve been helping her for nearly 20 minutes, and suspect she has mental issues; thankfully, she goes away. Ten minutes later, I hear the same customer speak up loudly behind me.)

Customer: “Well, I don’t want to go to the doctor tomorrow, but they tell me I have to.”

Me: “Oh, uh, ehrm… yeah?”

Customer: “Yeah. Colonoscopy. I don’t want to, but they have to find out where the bleeding’s coming from.”

Me: *whimpers*

(At this point, I leave the music department and hide between the far right security sensor and a book display just outside it. The store manager walks by and sees me.)

Manager: “What are you doing?”

Me: “Hiding from a customer who was telling me about her upcoming colonoscopy! She says they have to find out where the bleeding’s coming from!”

Manager: “You can stay.”