Yes, I’m 12 Feet Tall, With Horns And A Pitchfork

(A customer calls in thirty minutes before our store actually opens.)

Customer: “Do you have [style of shoe] in a size 11?”

Me: “Yes ma’am, we do. Would you like me to hold it for you?”

Customer: “No. I want to pay for it over the phone, and then come pick it up on my lunch break.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I can’t do that transaction over the phone.”

Customer: *yelling* “WHY NOT?! I’ll come in for it sometime between noon and two; it’s for my son, I want to be sure I can get this for his birthday.”

Me: “Like I said, I can hold it for you–”

Customer: “I heard you, but you aren’t hearing me! I want to buy it NOW.”

Me: “I can’t do that over the phone, I would have to see your ID along with your card to verify that it’s yours.”

Customer: “Can’t I just tell you my name?”

Me: “No, because anyone could read the name off the card. I have to see a photo ID.”

Customer: “Well, can’t I tell you what I look like then?”

Me: “Are you serious?”

Customer: “I want to speak to your manager.”

Me: “I am the manager, ma’am.”

Customer: “You’re a terrible manager then. You are SO rude!”

Me: “Yes, you’re right.” *hangs up*

(I can’t really say I’m all that surprised she never showed up for that shoe…)