I work for a computer repair service in a large big-box store. A customer comes to pick up his computer after we call to confirm that his repair is complete. In comes a middle-aged man who looks as if he thinks he owns the world.

Me: “Can I have your paperwork to get your computer?”

Customer: “I don’t have it.”

Me: “May I ask for your ID?”

I need to prove he is who he says he is.

Customer: “No. Now go get my computer!”

Me: “I’m afraid I have to refuse. Policy states I have to be sure it’s the owner taking the computer back.”

Customer: “I don’t care about policy! Ugh, my name is Tim.”

It just so happens that my manager is walking by from getting lunch, so he has his outside jacket on. He hears the commotion and comes to the customer’s side of the counter.

Manager: “Hi, my name is Tim. I have a computer here and want to pick it up.”

I immediately know what he’s doing and hand him the customer’s computer.

Customer: *Jaw drops* “What the f*** are you doing?!”

Me: “He’s Tim, and that’s his computer.”

Customer: “I want to see your manager, now!”

My manager takes his jacket off.

Manager: “I’d like to see some ID.”

I snickered as I watched a completely beaten man shake while he grabbed his wallet to find his driver’s license.

Related:
Has ID, Still No Idea, Part 3
Has ID, Still No Idea, Part 2
Has ID, Still No Idea

My laptop breaks down less than a week before I’m going to be moving abroad for months. I’m desperate to get it repaired before I leave. My father drives me to the repair place on the day they said it would be ready. He has a bad temper when things don’t go his way, so I talk to him beforehand.

Me: “These people are doing a rush job for me, so I need to be extra polite. Please, just let me do all the talking.”

Dad: “Sure.”

Me: *To the clerk* “I’m here to pick up my laptop.”

Clerk: “I’m afraid we haven’t gotten to it yet.”

Me: *Extra sugary* “I told the other guy that I’m leaving the country in a couple of days, and he said he’d try to have it ready by today.”

Clerk: “We didn’t have a chance yet.”

Dad: “So, in other words, it was a lie!”

I ended up leaving the country without my laptop.

A mom drops off a gaming PC. Allegedly, her son has been complaining about it overheating and she’s decided to see what can be done about it as a surprise for his birthday, meaning she removed the PC from the house without his knowledge. Remember that.

This is in the summer, so overheating cases are common, and most PCs only require some quick treatment with our air gun. However, when the tech examines this one, she has concerns about the power supply, so she accepts the computer for repair with apologies, explaining that, due to our current traffic, it will be a number of days before it even makes it to the bench.

The customer seems displeased by this but accepts the tech’s explanation and quote, clearing us to do the work.

We assume that she told her son about this as he began to call the shop every… single… day. He calls every day, multiple times a day, asking if we have started work on his PC.

Eventually, the technician, who happens to be the owner’s daughter, gets fed up with it and gets permission from her father to deal with the computer and get it out of our shop.

As soon as she pops the side panel off, we find out why this kid has been calling us so incessantly.

Apparently, when his PC is off while he is at school or work or whatever he does (I don’t know his age) he uses the PC case to hide his weed as neither parent is the type to open up a computer.

Now, this isn’t the cause of the overheating problem, but it is the cause of a new legal dilemma, as this is 2009 and marijuana legalization hasn’t begun anywhere yet.

In the end, the owner of the shop decides to call the mother and bring her down to the store where he explains to her exactly why we have to reject the repair, giving her the chance to handle the issue without police involvement. 

I’m not sure what the conversation came down to, but in the end, that PC ended up in our “scrap for parts” pile and never saw the light of day again.

I work in a small family-owned computer repair store in my hometown. A man walks into the shop with a PC.

Customer: “It doesn’t turn on.”

Our tech offers to do a diagnostic on the machine for a small fee, but the owner turns her down.

Customer: “I need it working so I can retrieve some pictures. Please do whatever you need to do to make that happen.”

After we clarify with the customer that we have his permission to start work with no parameters and have him sign the necessary documentation, he leaves and the PC goes to the back.

We are in a bit of a dead season for repairs, so the tech happily starts work on the computer immediately while I continue my duties of cleaning up the shop.

Tech #1: “Can you bring the air gun down? I think we’ll need it.”

Tech #2: “Mmmhmmm.”

Tech #1: “All right, he stated that it doesn’t turn on at all, so I’m going to start with the power supply.”

Tech #2: “All right.”

As soon as they removed the side panel of the computer, all I could hear was screaming, and that isn’t a normal thing from either of the technicians on duty. These are computer repair techs; they have seen some very strange and concerning things on people’s computers.

I immediately moved to the shop to find spiders, spiders everywhere, hundreds of spiders crawling out of this PC sitting on the work bench.

The lead tech grabbed a trash bag, enveloped the entire PC in it, spiders and all, tied it shut, and literally pitched the machine out the front door where it hit the ground with a loud DUNK! and slid into the bushes of the mall.

The technician then called the customer on the phone and explained what had happened and where he could find his PC if he wanted it back. She also offered a free hard drive recovery and backup should he bring the PC back minus its eight-legged tenants so he could have his photos.

Apparently, the pictures weren’t all that important because, after we retrieved the machine and set it nicely outside the shop for pickup, it sat there for several days before disappearing.

I used to work at a hole-in-the-wall retail computer repair shop in a not-so-good part of town. I’d frequently get customers who had outlandish requests and even more outlandish complaints.

I made sure to post printouts with info about all of our services on the wall next to the register in an attempt to ward off complaints and questions. This included prices, payment types accepted, etc.

Me: “Your total is $84.02.”

Customer: “What?! You said it would be $79!”

Me: “Yes, $79 with sales tax, which is $84.02.”

Customer: “Where does it say that there’s tax?!”

I indicated the prominent “plus tax” on the invoice.

Me: “It’s printed right here on the paper.”

Customer: “How was I supposed to know that there’s sales tax?!”

I pointed to the poster next to the register.

Me: “State sales tax info, right here. The number on the bottom is for the Connecticut General Assembly if you would like to complain.”

The customer could only grumble for the rest of the transaction. He didn’t expect me to have that info on-hand and displayed prominently!