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(Backstory: A woman orders a Reuben sandwich and returns to the counter 30 minutes later with about a fourth of the sandwich eaten.)

Woman: “I want to speak to your manager right now!”

Crew member: “Sure, no problem.” *goes and gets manager*

Manager: “Hi, what can I do for you today?”

Woman: “Yeah, I got this reuben at 4 pm and it’s SOGGY!”

Manager: “Well, ma’am, you purchased it half an hour ago…”

Woman: “Well, I want a new one!”

Manager, hoping to get the looney out of the store: “Sure, no problem.”

(Suddenly, the woman goes from angry to flat-out crazy.)

Woman: “HERE’S YOUR DELICIOUS REUBEN!!!” *rubs sauce on counter and throws part of sandwich at manager*

Manager: *dumbfounded*

Woman: “I’m sorry…it’s not your fault.”

Manager: “…It’s alright…”

Woman: *thinks for a second, then throws remaining sandwich bits at manager*

(We all laughed quite hysterically, and our manager walked around with reuben sauce on his crotch all day.)

Related:
When Mood Swings Attack

(I work at a library where people can come in to use the computer if they need to.)

Lady: “Excuse me. Could you help me? I’m having trouble with the computer.”

Me: “Sure, what’s the problem?”

Lady: “I can’t log on. It’s not taking my card.”

Me: “Huh, that’s weird. My computer says everything is okay. Let me go check.”

Lady: “I don’t know why it never works for me. The first time it came in it worked but every time after that it hasn’t! You guys always have problems with your computers. You should get that fixed as soon as possible!”

Me: “Alright then, let me see what you’re doing. Where’s your card?”

Lady: “It’s in the computer!”

Me: “What do you mean it’s in the computer?”

Lady: “There, in the computer! I put it in but it won’t log me on!” *points to the computer*

(I see it sticking out of where it obviously does NOT belong and take it out.)

Me: “No. That’s not how you log on. You see the numbers on the back of the card? Enter that into the computer, then your pin, and click log on.”

Lady: *looks at me confused* “Did you guys change this, because that’s how it worked for me last time!”

Me: “No, that’s how it has always been. In fact, if you had looked at the screen, you would have seen that it tells you exactly what to do.”

Lady: “Don’t take that tone with me, young lady! Just log me on!”

(I logged her on to the computer, but since she was a b**ch to me, I kicked her off early.)

Old Customer with Earhair: “Do you have fixative?”

Coworker 1: “I’m not aware of a product by that name. What do you want it to do?”

Earhair: “Get me someone else who knows the inventory!”

Coworker 2: “Sir, can I help you?”

Earhair: “Yeah, I want some fixative.”

Coworker 2: “We don’t have a product by that name, but if you describe it, we can get it for you.”

Earhair: “I buy fixative in here ALL THE TIME.”

Coworker 2: “What does the product look like?”

Earhair: “This is ridiculous. You should know your inventory well enough to READ MY MIND!”

Related:
(Telepathic) Help Wanted

(I was a toll-free operator. If a caller asked for something and there was ANY difference in the listing from what was requested, we were required to notify the caller and get approval from the caller before providing the number.)

Caller: “I would like *** insurance company in Delaware.”

Me: “I have a listing for *** insurance company, but I have it listed out of New Hampshire. Would that be acceptable?”

Caller: “New Hampshire? Where the h*ll is New Hampshire?”

Me: “It’s in New England.”

Caller: “New England?! I don’t want any New England! I need a number in the United States!”

Me, sarcastically: “Oh, I’m sorry, then. I don’t have any listed.”

(Due to a power outage we had to close our store. The lights were all out and there were 2 large green bristol board signs displaying “CLOSED, NO POWER, SORRY”. A woman walks up, walks through the entryway and tries the door to the store proper, which is locked. She then turns around goes to the exit door, pulls it open and walks in. I stop her.)

Me: “I’m sorry ma’am, there is a power outage. We’re closed.”

Woman: “Does that mean I can come in?”

Me: “No. ‘Closed’ means you can’t come in.”

Woman: “Then how come THEY’RE allowed in?” *points to people behind cash registers all wearing store aprons*

Me: “Uh…they work here.”

Woman: *leaves angrily*

(I was a customer observing this in line, not the employee.)

Woman Customer: “I’d like a hot fudge sundae.”

(The worker makes a hot fudge sundae and presents it to customer.)

Customer: *eats spoonful of sundae* “The ice cream is melting.” *eats another spoonful*

Worker: “I’m sorry. It’s probably because there’s HOT fudge on top of it.”

Customer: *spoonful* “The ice cream is too soft. *spoonful* I can’t eat this.” *spoonful*

Worker: “I could try to remake it for you, or get you something else.”

Customer, still chowing down: “This is just awful.”

(The customer takes another spoonful–by this time about half the sundae is gone.)

Customer: “How do you expect people to eat this *spoonful* when the ice cream is so soft? *spoonful* The ice cream should be hard!” *spoonful*

Worker: “Would you like something else?”

Customer: *spoonful spoonful spoonful* Don’t bother. Just throw it away. *spoonful*

(The customer hands what little is left to the worker and stomps away indignantly, still complaining.)

My wife, not very quietly: “What a b***h!

Worker: *smiles at my wife*

(As with most customers, once you’ve told them to “right click” on something one time, they can’t help but ask you about it every few seconds…this was a special instance.)

Me: “Alright ma’am, I need you to click on the icon for me.”

Customer: “Right click or left click?”

Me: “By default, always left click, unless I say otherwise.”

Customer: “Alright.”

(5 minutes later…)

Me: “Ok, go ahead and click on that button for me.”

Customer: “Right click or left click?”

Me: “By default, always left click, unless I say otherwise.”

(5 more minutes later…)

Me: “Can you click on that icon for me ma’am?”

Customer: “Right click or left click?”

Me: “By default, always left click, unless I say otherwise.”

Customer: “You already said that like three times!”

Related:
Stupidity Is The Mother Of Repetition

(I was in our technology support office when a housekeeping staff person, Donna, stopped by. There was no preamble to the dialog below.)

Donna: “Dr. Franklin gets e-mail in his office.”

Me: *nods*

Donna: “Alicia says she can check her e-mail in the office.”

Me: *nods*

Donna: “I like e-mail.”

Me: “Nice.”

Donna: “Nice?”

Me: “Not nice?”

Donna: “I like e-mail.”

Me: “I like e-mail, too.”

Donna: “You don’t have it?”

Me: “I do.”

Donna: “I like e-mail.”

Me: *biting lower lip, uncertain what to say or do*

Donna: “I like e-mail.”

Me: *glancing at the clock on the wall*

Donna: “I like to have e-mail.”

Me: “I like having e-mail, too, and I check it all the time.”

Donna: “Can I have it? I like to have e-mail.”

Related:
The Art Of Ambiguity

(I was an 800-directory operator. We weren’t information, we just gave you 1-800 numbers.)

Caller: “Excuse me, but what state is Kentucky in?”

Me: “Well, Kentucky IS a state.”

Caller: “Yeah, but what state is it in?”

Me: “Sir, it’s not IN a state. There are 50 states, and Kentucky is one of them.”

Caller: “Well, there’s 52 states if you count Alaska and Hawaii.”

Me, sarcastically: “There’s only 52 states if you count Alaska and Hawaii TWICE. But there’s only 51 if you don’t count Kentucky.”

Caller: *click*

Grumpy Old Man: “There’s too much salt in the shakers.”

Me: “…”

G.O.M.: *picks up shaker to demonstrate*

Me: “I’m…sorry?”

G.O.M.: “THERE’S NO SHAKE ROOM!”

Me: “I’ll get right on that.”