(I get a call from a customer who is currently $50 overdrawn on her account.)

Me: “Yes that is correct. Your account is overdrawn $50.”

Caller: “What if I cashed one of my checks at the local currency exchange for $50, and came and deposited the cash to cover the overdraft?”

Me: “Unfortunately you couldn’t do that, since that would bring your overdraft to $100.”

Caller: “But the money will be coming from the currency exchange, not my bank account!”

Me: “While the currency exchange is giving you the cash, that check will still be eventually drawn on your account here, thereby overdrawing you another $50.”

Caller: “But it’s NOT coming out of my account! It’ll be coming from the currency exchange, so I can cover my overdraft!”

(Sadly, the conversation continues back and forth like this for several minutes until I simply tell her:)

Me: “Whatever you do, DO NOT cash any more checks!”

(This, she understands.)

This story is part of the Customers-Causing-Recessions roundup!

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(I deliver for a large pizza company. Our store is staffed and managed by mature, easygoing people who look out for one another. We recently hire a new manager, however, who hasn’t quite got into the swing of things.)

Me: “Hey, I can run this as a triple so nothing goes late, but I need your password to check out three orders.”

(Note: manager passwords are not a secret, as they’re required to do so many things in the store that, if they were, we’d never get any work done. This manager, however, refuses to share hers, causing no end of headaches.)

Manager: “I’ll check them out in a minute; just wait.”

Me: “The first two have less than a minute before they run late; just give me your password.”

Manager: “I will not. You don’t see [General Manager] and [Assistant Manager] giving out their passwords, do you?”

Me: “They’re [password #1] and [password #2], right?”

Manager: *startled* “You shouldn’t have those!”

Me: “Everyone in the store has them, and now two orders are late.”

(The manager storms over and finally authorizes a triple delivery.)

Manager: “Fine, there, hurry up and get back!”

(I deliver all three, explain to the customers that I am the only driver on shift at the time, and none of them are upset or unhappy about having to wait an extra five minutes on their orders. When I get back however…)

Manager: “Those first two orders were late! Now my numbers look bad! Why can’t you just do as you’re told?!”

(A routine call has turned into a nightmare. It requires new wiring, new equipment, and a bunch of software changes. After 12 hours at the job-site, and 16 hours on the clock, I go back to the office to find the boss still waiting for me.)

Boss: “I just got a call from the customer. He was really impressed that you were able to get everything back up before the night shift started, and he wants to throw a pile of business our way.”

Me: “Sounds great. Listen, can we talk about this tomorrow? The only reason I’m still standing is two gallons of bad coffee.”

Boss: “We’ll talk about it on Monday. Give me your company phone so I can cover any emergencies. You have a nice and quiet three-day weekend.”

(I go home and pass out, only to be woken by my personal cell phone at 3 am.)

Coworker: “Hey, I just got an alert. Is your company cell dead? The UPS at—”

(I explain that the boss should be handling it, turn my cell-phone to silent, and go back to sleep. At 5 am, my house phone starts ringing.)

Coworker: “I can’t get a hold of the boss. I’ve tried the office, his cell, your company cell, the on-call cell, his house, and, well, I’m still getting alerts. Would you mind letting me in to the office so I can fix it?”

(Pretty annoyed, I get dressed and drive to the office. When I arrive, the front door to the office is unlocked, all the lights are on, and I can hear ‘The Doors’ blaring from the PA. The conference room contains my boss, his wife—who is also the company lawyer—and four people I don’t recognize. They are all drinking and laughing.)

Boss: *to me* “Hey! The hero of the hour has returned. I’d like you to meet [Company Owner] and his night management.” *to everyone else* “Everyone, this is the fellow that spent all day yesterday saving your bacon.”

(My boss then gestures to the drinks they have been having.)

Boss: “Sit down, and have a drink. We were just discussing some more work that needs to be done, and I’d like to get your input.”

Me: “[Boss], can I talk to you a moment in your office? We’ve got a minor issue with one of the UPS systems, and [Coworker] couldn’t reach you. He’s meeting me here, but—”

(My boss starts laughing, and turns to the company owner.)

Boss: “I told you we take everything seriously, [Company Owner]. Remember the cell phone alerts I showed you a little while ago? When I didn’t shut them off, two of my best guys took it upon themselves to come out and investigate!” *to me* “What are you drinking?”

(I’m a female who works in the paint department. It’s quiet, and a male coworker and I are chatting. He knows nothing about paint. We are approached by an older male customer.)

Me: “Hi, how can I help you today?”

(The customer ignores me, and turns to my coworker.)

Customer: “I need to paint my doors. Do you have animal paint?”

(I try and keep a straight face at this.)

Coworker: “Sorry, sir, I would not know. [My Name] is more than qualified, and can help you.”

Customer: *turning to me, visibly annoyed* “She’s a girl; she wouldn’t know. Okay missy, where’s the animal paint?”

Me: “Sir, what I think you mean is ‘enamel’ paint. There are two types. Water and—”

Customer: *angry* “No, stupid girl! Didn’t you hear me? ANIMAL PAINT! Not whatever you said.”

Me: “Sorry, sir, but we only have acrylic or enamel paint. Maybe you were misled?”

(The customer slams his items on the counter and turns around screaming.)

Customer: “F****** women should stay in the kitchen!” *turns to face me* “ANIMAL PAINT!”

(I work at a big retail chain where I am working the self checkout. A customer comes over to the self checkout with an arm full of shirts. As she walks over, I see her pull all of the tags off and slip them into her purse. She then waves me over.)

Guest: “Miss, these shirts don’t have any tags. I’ve seen them on the sales table for $2 each.”

Me: “Okay, I will call the fashion department and ask them if they have a $2 sale.”

Guest: *face goes pale* “No, it’s $2 off, believe me.”

Me: “…or the price tags could be in your purse.”

Guest: “F*** you!” *throws shirts on the ground and storms away*

Coworker: “What happened?”

(I tell my coworker the story and he laughs.)

Coworker: “Oh yeah, she comes in here all the time and does it. Most of the time she bullies or screams until she gets her way, or gets kicked out. I can’t believe you had the guts to say that.”