Our mall is having a special children’s event where they can play games and watch some shows (some children’s TV actors are on stage), and some extra people are providing entertainment, such as face painters and clowns.

I am working at the customer service desk. It’s my first day ever, and I’m a little nervous.

Manager: “You’ll be fine. You’ve studied the manual, so you can answer any question the customers have.”

My first customer approaches.

Customer: “Is that guy a real clown or just someone dressed as a clown?”

Me: “Uh…”

I’m working the customer service desk and have been called in for a last-minute shift after a call-out. Because of this, I haven’t had time to put my college books aside, so my huge textbooks have taken up some space that the customers can see. I’ve been told a customer is coming over to do a refund.

Customer: “What are those? Are those yours?!“

Me: “Yes, sorry, they’re my college textbooks. I’ll put them away in a minute.”

Customer: “What are you studying?”

Me: “I’m studying to be a psychologist.”

Customer: “Oh, yeah? So, what am I thinking right now?”

Me: “Uh…”

Customer: “Ha, didn’t think so!”

They start walking away with a smug look on their face.

Me: “Uh… didn’t you have a refund?”

The customer turned back, looking shocked, their face white as a sheet.

Back in the early 1980s, I was a telecommunications tech in Pinetown, South Africa. My job? To swoop in and rescue people with malfunctioning phones. 

One fateful day, a call came in complaining that the lines at a local firm were throwing a daily tantrum at 10:00 am. I rushed there, arriving at 11:00-ish to meet a receptionist with tales of woe. Little did I know, a storm was brewing in the form of an irate director.

As we discussed the issue, the boss stormed in, unleashing a torrent of anger and colourful language. Amid the chaos, I promised that I would be back by 9:45 the next day.

The following morning at 9:45 sharp, I confidently strode in, prepared to unveil my telecom wizardry. The director, true to form, resumed his tirade from the back room. Ignoring the commotion, I awaited the magic hour.

At precisely 10:00 am, half of the telephone lines waved a white flag of surrender. I swiftly investigated, finding myself in the “dedicated” PABX (Private Automatic Branch Exchange) room — a room that, as I soon discovered, moonlighted as a storage space amongst other jobs.

Lo and behold, the culprit of this daily telephonic rebellion was none other than the office tea lady. She had unplugged the phantom equipment to power up the kettle for her morning tea ritual. The tea, I might add, was for the director. The irony was too delicious to resist.

Summoning the director with a triumphant bang on his door, I led him to the scene of the crime. Pointing at the kettle, I declared, “That’s why your phones don’t work.” Without another word, I left him to digest the bitter truth. The look on his face was indescribable.

Lesson learned: sometimes, the most sophisticated problems have the simplest solutions, and in this case, it boiled down to a tea-related power struggle.

My friend works in customer service, so he naturally deals with a lot of customers who spew that infamous phrase. Recently, he got fed up with it, and after clearing it with his superiors, he pulled this on the next a**hat who gave him that line, attempting to get a refund outside of the return window.

Customer: “The customer is always right!”

Friend: *Pulls out a coin* “Call it.”

Customer: “What?”

Friend: “Heads or tails?”

Customer: “Um… tails.”

[Friend] flipped the coin, and it came up heads.

Friend: “Looks like you’re wrong.”

The customer stormed out of the store without a refund.

I work as a customer service representative under a prepaid debit card service. I got a call from a customer.

Customer: “I’m trying to pay the rent for my apartment, and my card keeps declining! Why?”

I brought up his account and looked at his transaction history. I saw that the cause of the decline was insufficient funds. Basically, he was $60 off from his $1,450 apartment transaction on his current balance at the time.

It turned out that a few hours before he could pay his rent, there was a previous charge from [Cable Company]. It was an auto payment that debited about $60 from his account, giving him a low balance. I told him the reason.

Customer: “What are you going to do about it, then? Refund me?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t refund you. The charge was from [Cable Company].”

It wasn’t my fault [Cable Company] had screwed him over.

He got pissed at me for not helping, although I told him there was nothing I could do in that situation, and after two foul language warnings, he hung up.

I mean, what did he want me to do? Tell [Cable Company] to refund him? That’s why I pay my bills manually — so I don’t get screwed over like that.