Category: Bizarre

For whatever reason, some Customers are just plain odd. And the service industry unleashes them on to unsuspecting clerks with often hilarious results. If you like your customers just plain bizarre, then read on!

And To Topping It All Off

| ON, Canada | Bizarre, Food & Drink

(It’s a busy Friday night so four of us are stationed by the phones solely taking phone orders for takeout and deliveries.)

Me: *picks up the phone* “Hi, [Pizzeria]. how can I help you?”

Customer: “I want a 12 slice pizza. One half with meat, one half veggies.”

Me: “Sure, what kind of meat and veggies, sir?”

Customer: “Meat. And. Veggies.”

(We have too many options to list on the phone for both. There’s four lines in use at this moment and probably customers waiting with a busy signal.)

Me: “Yes… but it’s easier to tell us what kind you want, sir.”

Customer: “I. Want. Meat. And. Veggies.”

Me: *notices my coworker on line three has finished with her customer, so I quickly put him on hold* “[Coworker], I’m having trouble figuring out what this guy wants on line two.”

Coworker: *picks up the phone* “Hello?”

(Goes through the ordering process, like I did. I’ve taken five other phone calls about 15 minutes later, and she’s still on the phone with the same customer.)

Coworker: *increasingly annoyed* “Is… that… all, sir? Have a good day.” *hangs up, and then glares at me* “Twice. I went through every topping we have on the menu… I even went through weird requests like pickles and lettuce. Twice. He said the ordering process was too difficult. He just wanted ‘meat and veggies.’ If he calls back… he is YOUR problem!”

(Luckily, he never called back.)

You’re My Number One

| White Marsh, MD, USA | Bizarre

Me: “Hi, [Client]! How are you today?”

Client: “I’m good. I just need to tinkle.”

Me: “Okay… Well, the restroom is through the salon and just past the shampoo bowls.”

Client: “Thanks! I’m going to think of you!” *walks away*

Me: *to coworker* “Please tell me she didn’t just say what I think she did.”

Makes You Want To Scream Cheese

| NC, USA | Bad Behavior, Bizarre, Food & Drink

(I’m a cashier in the bakery section of a restaurant, and it’s a part of my job to get the bagels and pastries for people. It’s a pretty normal sort of day when a woman and what appears to be her boyfriend walk in.)

Me: “Hello, what can I get you today?”

Woman: *in a very thick accent* “I can get sess-me bagel?”

Me: “You want a sesame bagel, ma’am?”

Woman: “Yes, two.”

Me: “Two sesame bagels?”

Woman: “Yes. This. And cheese.”

Me: “You would like some cream cheese, ma’am? Just the one plain?”

Woman: “Yes. Cheese and tomato and spinach.”

(Tomato and spinach is a request I haven’t had before, but I know such things on bagels are pretty big in Europe, and I can do it for her, but I feel the need to clarify.)

Me: “You want spinach and tomato on your bagel, ma’am?”

Woman: “Yes! I come here many time. I do this many time!”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I’ll—”

Woman: “I do this many time!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I understand. I’ll get that right up for you.”

(I head to the kitchen and have a line worker put some spinach and tomato in a to-go bowl and come back up front. I place the cup on the counter and turn to the boyfriend.)

Me: “Did you want anything, sir?”

Man: *in a fairly nice and polite voice* “Yeah, two of the cinnamon raisin bagels and one plain. Sliced and toasted… but only sliced on the plain.”

Me: “Yes, sir. Two cinnamon raisin sliced and toasted, and a plain just sliced. Did you want any cream cheese?”

Man: “Yeah, the cheesecake kind.”

Me: “Got it.”

(At this point, I have to ask the woman if her bagels are sliced and toasted, but she’s kind of scaring me, so I address the question to her boyfriend, who’s about to answer when the woman cuts in.)

Woman: “Yes, toast! I do this many times!”

Me: “Of course, ma’am.” *I make the last few punches on the register* “Anything else?”

Woman: “No! Make this.”

Me: “Of course, ma’am. Right away.”

(I bring up the total and the boyfriend pays as the woman walks away looking rather angry. I get that done and begin work on the bagels. Halfway through toasting them, the woman comes back.)

Woman: “He orders bagel?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, he did.”

Woman: “Put in separate bag from mine.”

Me: “Of course.”

(The woman walks away again and I set back to toasting the bagels. I tuck the man’s in with his cream cheese, the napkins, and a single knife. I take special care with the woman’s, her cream cheese, and the little bowl of tomato and spinach, because I don’t want her to have any reason to complain. When I’m done, the boyfriend is there, and I hand him the bags with a smile. He nods and walks out. I go about my day in relief. Two minutes later, the woman comes back, looking angry, shaking her bag of bagels, and my heart sinks.)

Me: “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

Woman: “I have no way to spread cream cheese!”

(Now, I know I gave her a knife. I took special care to include everything.)

Me: “There’s a knife in the bag, ma’am.”

Woman: “No… no… How to spread cream cheese while driving?!”

Me: “You… you want me to spread your cream cheese for you?”

(At this point, I’m feeling pretty weak. The woman is all but screaming and I see a few of my fellow employees glancing at me with concern. It’s against policy to spread the cream cheese for a customer, but I’m afraid of what will happen if I refuse.)

Woman: “Yes! I come here many time! I come here many time and never see you! You know nothing!”

Me: “Okay, ma’am.”

(I take the bag and take out all the food to assemble it, veggies, cream cheese, and all.)

Woman: “You know nothing! I tell you to put in separate bag and you don’t do this! I come here many time and I never see you!”

(At this point, I’m trying hard not to cry or begin arguing back, and focus on my task. I peel open the cream cheese when…)

Woman: “Only one cream cheese?”

Me: “Cream cheese costs money and you only ordered one, ma’am.”

Woman: “One cream cheese for two bagel? No! You know nothing!”

Me: “Ma’am—”

Manager: “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

Me: *silently to Manager* “Thank you.”

Woman: “Yes! She know nothing–”

Manager: “Ma’am, we’re not allowed to spread cream cheese for you.”

Woman: “Excuse? I come here many time—”

Manager: “Ma’am, I’d like to ask you to please lower your voice, and we can work this out–”

Woman: “No! No! I come here many time but never again! I never come here again!”

(She begins reaching over the counter, scrambling for her bagels, getting very close to all the pastries.)

Me: “Ma’am–”

Manager: “Ma’am, you can’t reach behind the counter!”

Woman: “I never come here again!”

(And finally, with much screaming, the woman storms out, at which point I thank the manager and go back to work.)

Me: “What can I get you?”

Customer: “Just two cinnamon rolls. Are you all right, sweetheart? I mean, really, some people….”

(And that seemed to be the end of it. I left an hour before closing and had a crazy story to tell people. The next day I came back to work and heard an interesting story from my coworker.)

Coworker: “So, a bit past closing this night, this crazy lady came by. She sounded Russian or something, and she was screaming that she came here all the time and demanded to be let in.”

Me: “What did you do?”

Coworker: “Well, first I told her we were closed, then I told her that I wasn’t allowed to let her in, and after about five minutes I turned on the vacuum and just let her yell…”

A Cancer On Society

| CT, USA | At The Checkout, Bizarre, Health & Body

(Since it’s nearing the Christmas season, we are currently doing donations for a cancer foundation. I lost my grandfather to lung cancer earlier this year.)

Me: “Your total is $[total]. Would you like to donate a dollar to [Cancer Foundation] today?”

Customer: “No, I would not.”

Me: “Okay, no problem.” *hits ‘no’ to proceed to payment screen and am about to tell the customer she can swipe her card*

Customer: “I won’t donate because there’s already a cure for cancer. It’s the biggest conspiracy out there.” *laughs*

(All I could do was just fake laugh, smile, and wish her a good day. If you don’t want to donate, just say no. That’s it!)

A Misdial Trial

| USA | Bizarre

(The company I work at often receives calls from people looking for free credit report. When this happens we offer to give them the correct number that they need to reach the right people. Usually when we do this people either say thank you or insist that they’re calling the number they were given originally and that we need to solve their problem.)

Me: “[Company], how can I help you?”

Caller: *speaking very angrily* “Hi, I’m calling because there are charges I don’t recognize on my card. I called [Credit Card Company] to dispute them and they said the charges came from [Credit Reporting Company]!”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Unfortunately you’ve called [Company], not [Credit Reporting Company]. I can give you the number you need to reach [Credit Reporting Company], though.”

Caller: “I already have that number! It’s—”

(The caller proceeds to list off the actual number he needs to call to reach Credit Reporting Company. At this point I’m very surprised, and I do my best to continue the call normally.)

Me: “That’s the correct number for [Credit Reporting Company]. Unfortunately, we’re not [Credit Reporting Company]. You—”

Caller: “What?! Well how the hell can that be?”

Me: “Perhaps you dialed the wrong number when making your call?”

Caller: “No, I most certainly did not! I dialed [correct number for Credit Reporting Company]!”

(At this point a coworker tries to jump in to help.)

Coworker: “Do they need the number for [Credit Reporting Company]?”

Me: “He already has it.” *I then address the man directly* “Again, I’m sorry for the trouble but we’re not [Credit Reporting Company].”

Caller: “Well… okay, then.”

(He hangs up very angrily before I can offer to confirm that he has the right number, for his peace of mind.)

Me: “…okay, then.”

Coworker #2: “Someone misdialed us even though they had the right number? That’s a new one!”

(At that point we were all pretty confused, and I felt bad because there was really no way to tell an already irate person that their fingers must have slipped while dialing. We were afraid that he’d hit redial and reach us again, at which point the whole thing would have just been worse. Thankfully, he didn’t – I guess he figured out his mistake on his own!)

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