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    Shopping Amongst The Commoners

    | Columbus, OH, USA |

    Customer: “I’m here to pick up a book I ordered.”

    Me: “Did you receive a card saying it was in?”

    Customer: “Yes.”

    Me: “Great, let me get it for you. What’s your last name?”

    Customer: *gives last name*

    Me: *goes to special order shelf, behind the cashwrap, to find the book*

    Customer: *comes behind the cashwrap and looks too*

    Me: “Sir, I need to ask you to step back in front of the registers. This is a secure area.”

    Customer: *ignores, keeps looking*

    Me: “Sir, please step back! We don’t allow customers in this area!”

    Customer: *grumbles, steps back*

    Me: *finds book, completes sale*

    Customer: *leaves*

    Coworker, laughing: “Do you know who that was?”

    Me: “Well…he looked familiar.”

    Coworker: “That was the governor! You just bossed the governor around!”

    (I felt a little silly for not recognizing him, but he hadn’t been governor for long, had a common last name and looked like every other rich, entitled guy who ever came into the store.)

    Someone Needs Sensitivity Training

    | Ringoes, NJ, USA |

    (I’m at home, on Christmas Day with my family, eating dinner. Our number is similar to a floral shop in our town, so we’re constantly getting calls from customers.)

    Me: “Hello?”

    Caller: “WHERE ARE MY FLOWERS?! I ORDERED MY FLOWERS FOR NOON ON CHRISTMAS DAY AND I DON’T HAVE THEM YET! WHY CAN’T YOU PEOPLE EVER DELIVER MY FLOWERS RIGHT?! LAST YEAR, I…”

    (I predicted a whole novel’s worth of stories, so I figured I would cut in…)

    Me: “Sir! This isn’t the floral shop, you have the wrong number. This is *my number* and you just interrupted our Christmas dinner.”

    Caller: “WELL, F*** YOUR CHRISTMAS DINNER!” *click*

    Like Son, Like Father

    | Ottawa, Canada |

    (I bring a couple and their child place settings and a colouring mat for the 6 year old.)

    Me: “Hi, can I get you guys started with something to drink?”

    Father: “Sure, I’ll have a Pepsi, and bring me another one of those place mats. I like to colour while I wait.”

    Me: *laughs* “You and the boy are going to have a bit of a contest, eh?

    (I obviously thought he was making a joke.)

    Father: *agitated* “Yeah, is that a problem?”

    Me: “Uh, not at all sir…would you like Barney the dinosaur or Spongebob?”

    Spontaneous Customer Combustion

    | Sandwich, MA, USA |

    Me: “Hi! Welcome to ***, how may I help you today?”

    Caller: “Do you take credit cards? My husband has a huge party coming up. I need a basket immediately, the biggest you have.”

    (I ring her up and then ask for her credit card number. I also ask for the CVV code on the back of her card. Big. Effing. Mistake.)

    Caller: “Excuse me, you want my what now?”

    Me: “Your CVV code, ma’am. The four-digit code on the back of–”

    Caller: “I KNOW what a CVV code is, d**nit! I’m not giving it to you!”

    Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but it’s company policy. I can assure you–”

    Caller: “I am NOT giving you my code! Get me your manager!”

    Me: “Ma’am, I swear, it’s policy–”

    Caller: (shrieking now) “You rotten children are just trying to ROB ME! GET ME YOUR MANAGER! NOW!”

    (I get my manager.)

    Manager: “Hello, can I help you?”

    Caller: “You’re a bunch of thieves! No one asks for a CVV code nowadays! My husband has had dealings with the LIKES OF YOU!”

    (At this point, she’s yelling so loudly that she’s audible to other employees in the room.)

    Manager: “Miss, I–”

    Caller: *does something inaudible*

    Fellow Employee: “What just happened?”

    Manager: *staring at the phone* “I think she just broke her phone.”

    When Employees Lose It

    | Kansas City, MO, USA |

    (I failed to complete a job in an hour for customer. She became upset, so I offered her a refund.)

    Me: “I am sorry about this…we became extremely busy as you can see by the 5 people behind you now.”

    Rude Woman “Well, how come you didn’t tell me you would be this busy?”

    Me: “I seem to have forgotten my crystal ball at home and I am not quite able to tell the future without it.”

    Rude Lady “WELL I NEVER. I want your name!”

    Rude Me: “Okay ma’am, but you’ll look pretty funny being called Bryan.”

    Rude Lady “I want your manager’s name!”

    Ruder Me: “Seriously? Sure thing, maybe Rick will suit you better anyway.”

    (She took her jewelry and stormed off. I called my boss a few hours later; she had contacted him and I was warned. Well worth it though!)

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