(One day, a courier came in to drop off a check. I was using one of our pens to sign it.)

Courier: “Hey, that’s a really nice pen!”

Me: “Yeah, it’s not bad.”

Courier: “Don’t worry, though. I’m not going to steal it!”

Me: “Ha – Ok…”

Courier: “No, for real. I don’t steal things.”

Me: “That’s…good?”

(By now I’ve finished signing, but she isn’t leaving.)

Courier: “My best friend once accused me of stealing her check. Her $300 check!”

Me: “Um…that’s too bad.”

Courier: “We aren’t friends anymore. I mean, I make that much money in a DAY! You hear me?! I drive around MILLION dollar checks. Why would I steal her stupid tiny check?”

Me: “I don’t know…”

Courier: “I let her move into my basement. I told her it was only $500 a month. Isn’t that a great deal? Isn’t it?!”

Me: “Yeah, sounds good…”

Courier: “And how does the little b**** thank me? She accuses me of stealing her money! When I can steal ANYBODY’S million dollar checks! So you know what I told her? I told her to get the F*** out of my basement!”

Me: “…”

Courier: “Now I hear she’s on drugs. What a winner. Not like you. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You wouldn’t accuse me of stealing, would you?”

Me: “Um…no.”

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

Caller: “How far are you from Las Vegas?”

Me: “233 miles.”

Caller: “So that’s about what, an hour, hour and a half?”

Me: “Only if you drive about 230 miles an hour.”

(A customer purchased a copy of a popular anti virus program. About 2 hours later I received a phone call.)

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

Customer: “I just bought a **** anti virus program from your store, and it’s not working.”

Me: “What about it isn’t working? Did you install the program?”

Customer: “It’s not interfacing with my system.”

Me: “Not…interfacing? I’m not sure I understand what the problem is.”

Customer: “I set the box next to my computer, and it’s not doing anything at all. Nothing is happening on my computer! This program is defective.”

Me: “Um…well, you have to open the box and insert the CD into your computer, then install the program before it will run.”

Customer: “WHAT?! How do I do that?”

Me: “…”

Created by our friends at Quitting Time

Original Story

(An angry, overweight female customer approaches me with a Nintendo Wii Fit and hands me her receipt.)

Me: “Hi, what can I help you with today?”

Customer: “I’d like to return this.”

Me: “What seems to be the problem with it?”

Customer: “I think it’s broken.”

Me: “All right, what’s going on?”

Customer: “Whenever it weighs me and calculates my BMI, it labels me as obese.”

Me: “And…”

Customer: “Well, that can’t be right!”

Me: “From what I’ve heard, the measurements on Wii Fits are fairly accurate. Are you sure you want to return this? They’re pretty hard to find.”

Customer: “Are you calling me fat?!”

Me: “No, I’m just saying that…”

Customer: “You just called me fat!

Me: “No, I was just saying…”

Customer: “Whatever. I still want to return it. It’s obviously not working right. And, I think someone should talk to the designer; make them use a different word. It hurt my feelings.”

Me: *soothingly* “Maybe you could contact Nintendo; write a letter or something.”

Customer: “You know what, I will! I’ll let them know that their stupid game called me obese and made me cry for three hours straight. I haven’t eaten solid food for two days because of it. I’m so hungry! I almost fainted last night. Do you think I can sue?”

Me: “Well, you can sure try. Have a nice day.”

Customer: “Hi, what kinds of door knobs do you carry?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t have any door knobs.”

Customer: “What?! WHY NOT?”

Me: “Um…because this is a pool supply store.”

Customer: “This is totally unacceptable! I came here to get a new set of door knobs for my garage, and you’re telling me that you won’t sell me any?”

Me: “Yeah, pretty much.”

Customer: “You are so rude! I demand to know the name of the manager! I’m going to complain about this – I hope you liked your job!”

Me: “I do like my job, as a matter of fact. Here you go.”

(I hand her my business card, which states that I am the store manager.).

Me: “Just call this number and I’m sure you’ll be taken care of.”

(The customer grumbles and walks out. She gets into her car and proceeds to call the number on the business card I just handed her.)

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

Customer: “Yes, I was just in one of your stores, and the employee was incredibly rude to me. He refused to sell me a set of door knobs.”

Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way ma’am, but as I just told you when you were in the store, we do not sell door knobs.”

Customer: “I WANT TO SPEAK TO THE MANAGER! NOW!”

Me: “You are, ma’am. I am the store manager.”

(The customer screams and hangs up, then speeds away in her car. In the process, she cuts off a police officer, who promptly pulls her over.)

(I notice a female customer shoving a few acne treatments into her purse.)

Me: “Excuse me, miss; you’re going to have to pay for those.”

Customer: “For what?”

Me: “For the treatments you just shoved into your purse.”

Customer: *sounding offended* “I did no such thing!”

Me: “Fine. Will you please show me there aren’t any stolen items in your bag?”

Customer: “No! You’re only doing this because I’m ugly!”

Me: “…what?”

Customer: “I can’t believe an ugly person can’t go out into public anymore without be accused of stealing!”

Me: “…”

Customer: “I’m never coming here again! *storms out, setting off the alarm and alerting security*

Co-worker: “Maybe we should have just let her have them.”

(I work at the customer service desk at a grocery store. One day I had a guy come up and cash a winning lottery ticket for a dollar, and this is what then took place.)

Me: “There you go. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

Customer: “Yeah, uh…I’ve got some dishes to be done, some windows to be washed, and a lawn to be mowed.”

Me: *thinking he’s joking* “Ha ha, yeah….”

Customer: *blank stare* “Well…are you gonna help me?”

Me: still thinking he’s joking* “Ha, well, until **** opens up an At-Home division, I guess I can’t help you out.”

Customer: “So you’re not gonna help me?”

Me: *realizing he’s serious* “Well…no, sir. I can’t just leave and go home with you to do chores.”

Customer: “You shouldn’t be offering to do something if you don’t plan on going through with it.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but-”

Customer: *interrupting* “Next time, don’t offer if you’re not gonna do it!” *storms off*