Customer, staring at credit card machine: “I don’t know what to do. What does it want me to do?”

Me: “What does the screen say?”

Customer: “Press the green button.”

Me: “Then…well…maybe you should press that green button there.”

Customer: “Oh, okay.”

Related:
Instructions Are Your Friends

(A customer gives me a Canadian quarter. I refuse to accept it. He gets angry.)

Me: “Sir, I can’t accept this quarter. It’s Canadian.”

Customer: “So? I got it from somewhere in the US so you must accept it.”

Me: “No sir, I can not. My drawer will come up short.”

Customer: “It’s not my fault someone gave me this quarter! Why should I take the blame for it? Take the quarter!”

Me: “Oh I see, so it is my fault then?”

Customer: “YES! Take the quarter!”

(I take a quarter out of my pocket and then throw that Canadian quarter across the room to a trash can.)

Customer: “Call your manager.”

Me, smiling: “I am the owner, sir. How can I help you?”

Related:
Even Bosses Have A Stupid Quota

(I work in the stock department of a small, local grocery store. Generally, I would get 1 or 2 requests to check the back for an item a shift. An elderly woman-I’d say around 75-80–approaches me. She is asking about a common type of flour we carry.)

Customer: “Excuse me, I’ve managed to find 4 of these. Would you care to check the back room to see if you have any more?”

Me: “Sure thing.”

(I grab a single flour package from her. After 1-2 minutes of aimless searching in the backroom, I return the bag to the woman.)

Customer: “Why, thank you! Now I have 4! Thats exactly how many I needed! God bless you!”

(I was way too embarrassed for her to explain the situation.)

Me: “You’re…welcome. Anything else?”

Customer: “One more thing, dear.”

Me: “What is it?”

Customer: “Can you check the back to see if you have any more of these?”

(I use to work in a deli at a grocery story. This story takes place there.)

Me: “How can I help you?”

Customer: “I want the extra cheap-a** ham.”

Me: “How thin do you want that?”

Customer: “Bible-paper thin.”

Me: “Um…ok?”

(It should be noted that slicing the “extra cheap-a** ham” too thin results not in ham, but in a ham-like paste)

Me: “Here you go.”

Customer: “You call that thin? You obviously aren’t a religious man, I can see.”

Me: “Ok…”

(I ended up giving him about $3.00 worth of ham paste and he walked away happy, so I guess it all worked out.)

(A man realized that he was unable to pay for his groceries a few checkouts away from mine and had to leave his cart full of items behind. As he stormed off, he let off a tirade of insults at his cashier, finally stopping as he passed my register, gaping in awe at my long hair. I’m a guy, by the way.)

Pissed customer: “AND YOU! GET A HAIRCUT! YOU LOOK STUPID!”

Me: “…”

Me: “Your total is $87.95.”

Customer: “I have a coupon for [X product]. It was for a dollar off.”

Me: “Ok.” (I wait 30 seconds for her to produce it, but she stares blankly at the total on the screen.)

Customer: “Well, aren’t you going to type that in? It’s for one dollar.”

Me: “Ma’am, I just need to see the coupon so I can scan it.”

Customer: “Well I don’t HAVE it with me…it’s at home. I forgot it, but it’s for [X product] for a dollar.”

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t credit you for that unless you bring the coupon with you. You are welcome to bring it next time. Your total today is $87.95.”

Customer: “So what, you don’t believe me? Why can’t you just give me a dollar off? That’s what the coupon was for.”

Me: “Ma’am, I believe that you bought the product and that you have the coupon at home, but I am unable to give you the discount without actually physically having the coupon in my till drawer.”

Customer: “Well that’s just the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. What ever happened to the honor system! It’s rude of you not to believe me!”

(I was a cashier at a local grocery store one summer. At 9 o clock every night, it was the bagboy’s duty to clean the store…which included vacuuming the rugs in front of the automatic doors. One night, about 8-8:30, an elderly lady comes in and sits by the doors.)

Me: “Hello! How are you tonight, do you need any assistance?”

Lady: “No, I’m fine, I’m just going to sit here.”

Me: “Okay, then.”

(She sits there until about 9 o clock until a bagboy comes out with a vacuum cleaner…he proceeds to do his job.)

Lady: “AAAH!!! What is that? What is that horrible noise? I can’t take it! I can’t take it!” *Walks up to the bagboy* “What are you doing? Stop it! Stop it!”

Bagboy: “I’m just vacuuming the rugs…”

Lady: “Stop it! I can’t take this noise! Why are you doing this?!”

Me and the other cashiers: “…”

(She goes back to sit down and doesn’t leave until late. Our managers come out and forbid the bagboys from vacuuming while she is there. She then proceeds for a couple more times that week to come in at 8 o’clock and if some bagboy even brought out the vacuum cleaner, unaware of who she is, they get an earful about the horrible noise that afflicts her.)

Me: “Thank you for calling ****, how may I direct your call?”

Lady: “Can I get your Orient kitchen?”

(I put her on hold, page the kitchen. 30 seconds later, the phone rings.)

Me: “Thank you for calling ****, how may I direct your call?”

Same lady: “Yeah, I was holding for the Orient kitchen, I think I got disconnected.”

Me: “Just a sec.”

(I put her on hold again, page the kitchen again. 30 seconds later, phone rings again.)

Me: “Thank you for calling ****, how may I direct your call?”

Same lady: “You keep hanging up on me! Every time I call for the kitchen, you hang up on me.”

Me: “Ma’am, I am putting you on hold.”

Lady: “No, you keep hanging up on me. You say hold and then there’s silence.”

Me: “If I was hanging up on you, you would hear a dial tone. The silence is you being on hold. So if you wait a minute, I will get the kitchen for you.”

Lady: “Okay.”

Me: “Now, there is going to be silence. This isn’t me hanging up on you. You are being put on hold. Just wait and someone will pick up the phone. ”

Lady: “Thank you.”

(I put her on hold and turn to see my co-workers laughing at me behind my back. I question the state of humanity.)

Me: “Hi there ma’am, what can I get for you today?”

Customer, with her young son: “Yeah, could I have a piece of that bologna so my son can taste it?”

Me: “Sure, would you like to try it too?”

Customer: “Oh no thanks. I just want to see if my son is allergic.”

Me: “…”

(I’m working at the cigarette counter. I wear glasses–this is critical.)

Me: “How can I help you today?”

(Customer is clearly not from this country and speaks in broken English with a thick accent.)

Customer: “Glasses!” *points at my face* “Glasses!”

Me: “You like my glasses?”

Customer: “No glasses. No glasses!”

Me: “You don’t like my glasses.”

Customer: “Not you. No glasses.”

Me: “Not me? No glasses? You want someone without glasses?”

Customer: “Yes. No glasses!”

(I look over at another cashier and a nearby register who heard everything and have her switch with me. Meanwhile everyone around us is cracking up laughing.)