Any Reasonableness Has Melted Away

(It’s my last summer working at an ice cream store where I’ve been working for seven years now, and I’m working this closing shift with the other senior member of staff. This year we’ve had a troublesome customer, and every time she’s been in I’ve had to serve her, which has resulted in me witnessing a very personal fight between her and her boyfriend while trying to make her a banana split, as well as being hit on by said boyfriend. When she comes in on this particular shift, I decide that this is a good time for a bathroom break, as I know full well that my coworker can handle her. When I get back from the bathroom, she tells me all she made her was a small cone, which is unusual because usually, her orders are much more intricate. Maybe fifteen minutes later, we’re serving a large family when she comes back in. She’s holding her ice cream cone up in the air, and the look on her face is concerning. Of course, this time I get stuck with her.)

Me: “I’m sorry, I’m serving this group right now. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Customer #2: “Oh, no, it’s fine. [Coworker] can finish helping us!”

Customer #1: “I need a refund for this ice cream.”

(It has been an incredibly hot summer. It’s around 9:00 pm now, but it’s still very hot outside. Her small ice cream has melted all down her arm.)

Me: “I can’t give you a refund for a cone you’ve partially eaten.”

Customer #1: “But it melted.”

Me: “Um…”

Customer #1: “And besides, it was disgusting. You shouldn’t serve this flavour to anyone. And especially not me, because I’m pregnant.”

Me: “You could have asked for a sample.”

Customer #1: “Well, I didn’t know you did that! I need a refund for this cone! I want to talk to your manager!”

Me: “I can’t give you a refund; my manager has gone home, but I can give you the card with our number and you can call tomorrow afternoon?”

(I gave her the card, and she left, still complaining about the flavour of the ice cream — which happens to be one of our most popular flavours. I texted my manager to warn him about what had happened, and he let me know that if she came in again or called to complain she’d be banned from the shop because of that and previous incidents. She never called, and we never saw her again. We weren’t very disappointed.)