I’m a woman working at the auto parts counter — Will Call — where I help bring people their parts. Right in front of me, a customer decides I have less than no idea what the h*** I’m talking about and turns to a regular standing nearby.

Customer: “You look like you know what you’re doin’. Are you a tech? I need [starts describing his parts].”

The regular points to me — on the JOB SIDE of the counter.

Regular: “I don’t work here; I’m picking up something, too.”

I take back the conversation.

Me: “Sir, are you picking up today?”

Customer: “Yeah, I’m looking for someone in Parts ‘cause I have a question.”

Me: “How can I help you?”

He keeps looking at my T-shirt (my boobs) and not facing me fully.

Customer: “Yeah, I just need to talk to someone about my repairs.”

As if I’m a florist, not a parts employee.

Me: “Okay, so you haven’t created an order yet?”

Customer: “No, I have a question.”

Me: “Cool, maybe I can direct you to the right place. You’re at Will Call. Service is—” *points* “—that way, and Sales is—” *points* “—up front. That’s where you can create an order.”

He literally balks like I’M THE ONE CONFUSED and starts heading out the door.

I look back at our regular customer.

Me: “You caught that, right? I don’t know a d*** thing about the auto parts I sling every day because I was born with t**ties?”

Regular: *Cracking up* “I guess so!”

Related:
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 25
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 24
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 23
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 22
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 21

I work as a cashier at an automotive retail store. A man comes to the register with a caravan step. I greet him and ask how I can help him.

He puts the box down on the counter and looks me up and down.

Customer: “Do you have any of these in the next size up?”

The box says, “Medium Folding Caravan Step,” so I open my Point of Sale system to check for a large.

Customer: “The next size up is a large, just in case you didn’t know.”

I bite my tongue, hard. I look at him for a second and then nod and continue searching the system. We are actually showing negative stock for the next size up, so he thanks me and leaves the store.

Coworker: “…”

Me: “I never would have known a large is the next size up from a medium if he hadn’t told me.”

I used to work for a company that sold tires online. Had one customer purchase a set of All-Terrain tires because they were significantly cheaper than Mud Tires, which are what he actually needed.

We were not made aware of his needs before his purchase and only found out when he called in to complain:

Customer: “The tires aren’t working very well in the muddy terrain!”

He keeps going on and demanding a refund, and we finally have to draw the line:

Me: “Sir, we can’t take a return on tires you’ve already taken off-roading.”

Customer: “Have you even seen mud? I know y’all are in California and you only have sand out there. Out here in Mississippi, we have REAL MUD.”

Then he hung up and we never heard from him again…

I’m shopping for a particular part for my car. It’s a big chain with a massive store that pushes their help and advice as part of their service. I quickly get stuck with all the choices and wander around looking for a member of staff. I find no one, not even at the till. 

I find someone at the audio desk. He apologises as he can’t help, but he calls for someone on the tannoy. When that doesn’t work, he calls an internal number.

Worker: “I’m sorry, no one is answering.”

Me: “Where is everyone? Is there some sort of emergency?”

Worker: “No, I really don’t know. Sorry. There should be at least three people at all times.”

Me: “Thanks. I’m going to wait by the till. If they get back to you, can you send them over?”

I wait and wait. I need the part and have a long drive ahead that I don’t want to do without it. I go back to the audio desk and he tries again. He starts to get visibly annoyed at his coworkers and cannot apologise enough.

Fed up, I make a call to the first regional number I find.

Me: “I’ve been at [Store] for… thirty-five minutes, and I haven’t seen any member of staff outside of the audio guy. No one is on the tills or watching the exits. Can you help?”

Whatever they did worked, as three members of staff were suddenly available, even if they looked like they were half-asleep. The kicker was they knew less about cars than I did, so they were no help!

I guessed and bought what turned out to be the wrong thing, but I managed to make my journey anyway.

I have worked in an auto parts store for many years and am used to two types of clueless customers. The first kind is, “I need [unknown] part for my car — the red one.” The others are the ones who have been pranked to come into the store and ask for blinker fluid or muffler bearings. I don’t know which type this lady is when she comes in and, before I can even greet her, says, “Air.”

Me: “Beg your pardon?”

Customer: “Air! Ya know, A-I-R. Air.”

She is waving her hands about as if bringing air to herself.

Me: “We have cans of air for inflating flat tires and a few small cans of air for blowing out electronic parts. Is either of these what you want?”

Customer: “Just air! Do you know what air is? I know that these places hire the most ignorant people on earth, but surely you know what air is!”

Me: “Please, ma’am, yes, I know what air is. What do you need it for? Putting in tires, blowing dust from electronic parts, or what?”

Customer: “Well, aren’t you special? Do you have any idea what month it is?”

Me: “Yes, it is October.”

Customer: “Well…”

Me: “I’m sorry, I guess I must be too stupid to follow your train of thought. I don’t understand the connection. Please educate me.”

Customer: “It’s October. Summer is over. It is well into fall!”

Now I know that she is definitely of the second type of clueless.

Me: “Oh, you must want winter air in your tires. Take out the summer air and put in winter air, is that right?”

Customer: “Well, at last! Your feeble brain has made that connection, congratulations. Now get me the air!“

Me: “Well, this is a parts store and we don’t service tires. I could sell you an air compressor for you to change your own air, but I can’t change your air for you. Now, the compressors we have are—”

Customer: “Stop! Do I look like someone who changes my own air?”

Me: *Playing along* “I don’t know. What does someone who changes their own air look like? I’m kind of new at this.”

Customer: “Stupid idiot! You take out the summer air and put in the winter air, or is that too difficult for you?”

Me: “I don’t do that here. I only sell parts. You can go to any tire store and have them take out the summer air and put in winter air, though. There are several tire stores in the area. I can look them up for you if you wish.”

Customer: “Excuse me! Air is ‘parts’! Now get on it!”

I am just through with her.

Me: “Excuse me? I’m sorry, but there is no excuse for you, your attitude, or your stupidity. There is no such thing as summer air or winter air. Someone has pranked you. And now you are wasting my time. Please leave.”

Customer: “I’m going to tell my husband and he will come here and take care of you. He’s the one who told me to come here. I guess you think he is stupid, too?!”

Me: “Look, your husband has pranked you. Now, please leave. I’m busy with real customers.”

The lady screamed something incomprehensible at me and tried to rush out the entrance, which wouldn’t open. She tried, again and again, to force the door open. I just pointed to the exit door, which she finally found, and she left.