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I Gotta Ticket To Hide

| Lansdale, PA, USA | Right | November 11, 2013

(I enter a movie theater when there is only one other customer at the counter.)

Customer: “Hey, can I get a ticket to Insidious 2?”

Cashier: “That’s [price].”

Customer: “Okay.” *looks in purse* “I have three quarters.”

Cashier: “Sorry, can’t allow you.”

Customer: “No! You said I could go in; you WILL let me!”

Cashier: “No, you don’t have enough; I wasn’t to know.”

Customer: “You’ll sell me that ticket!”

Cashier: “I can’t; it’s against policy.”

(The customer walks outside.)

Me: “I’d like a ticket to Justin and the Knights of Valor.”

Cashier: “Sure.”

(I pay and go to the ticket inspector. Before I know what has happened, the customer has run back in, snatches my ticket, rushes past the ticket inspector and runs towards the ‘Insidious’ theater. The ticket inspector and I run after and enter the theater, where commercials are still playing.)

Me: “Hey! That was my ticket!”

Ticket Inspector: “Give him back his ticket, please.”

Customer: “No! His ticket wasn’t ripped!” *shows ticket* “This one is.”

Ticket Inspector: “That’s because you STOLE his ticket. Give it back.”

Customer: “Piss off!”

Ticket Inspector: “Give it back or I’m getting security.”

Other Moviegoer: “Just give the d*** thing back!”

(Others in the theater are agreeing.)

Customer: “No. It’s mine, and you can’t prove it’s yours. You’re just a silly little boy and you think you can get what you want.”

Ticket Inspector: *on radio* “Could security please come to screen three?”

(At this point, the customer begins eating the ticket. The inspector tries ripping it from her hands, but she has already eaten most of it.)

Customer: “Can’t prove it now!”

(Security came and took her away. The ticket inspector apologized for her behavior and gave me my money back.)

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Taking Account Of Your Actions

| Newcastle, NSW, Australia | Right | November 11, 2013

(I work in telephone banking for a major bank. In our system, we can see all of the customer’s call history, from wait time, last 20 calls, who the customer spoke to, and any notes left by previous bankers.)

Me: “Hello and welcome to [Bank]; my name is [Name]. How can I help you today?”

Customer: “Oh, thank f*** for that! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting? 35 f****** minutes! And all I wanted to do was check my balance on my credit card!”

(I can clearly see the customer has waited a total of 25 seconds from the start of his call to speak to me.)

Me: “I’m so sorry about any wait there, but you have come through fully identified, so thank you for putting in your customer number and access code. Now before I can—”

Customer: “Now you just f****** wait a minute. I’ve been waiting 35 minutes to speak to you, and you aren’t even going to apologize for making me wait? What kind of f****** s*** customer service are you lot running there? Huh?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir; I did apologize for the wait that you experienced and I—”

Customer: “Get your f****** manager now! I don’t have to deal with this! I demand compensation for my time and phone charges! Get your manager!”

(I put the customer on hold and signal for a manager to take an escalated call. While I wait for my manager to arrive, I look at the customer history. I see that the customer has been with us for five years. He seems to call twice a year, and almost always demands to speak to a manager, repeatedly demanding compensation. He has been told by our relations department that they will not compensate him further because he has been given close to $2000 in refunded interest on his credit card over the five years. There is a special note from the head of the relations department simply saying ‘if customer threatens to close accounts, process request. Do not attempt win-back.’ I recap the call so far to my manager, and advise him about the notes from the relations department as well. Total wait for the caller has now been two minutes.)

Manager: “Hello, sir, my name is [Name] and I’m a manager. How can I help?”

Customer: “Well, hasn’t that taken you a f****** lifetime to answer?! I’m sick of this s***! I demand that I have interest repaid to my credit card or I’ll close all my accounts!”

Manager: “Sir, I’m not going to be able to repay the interest for you, as you’ve already had close to $2000 refunded to you over the past—”

Customer: “Well, then close my accounts! Close them now! If you can’t fulfill a simple request like that, f*** you and [Bank]! I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

Manager: “Sir, just so I have it clear: you are formally requesting for me to close out your accounts with [Bank] right now?”

Customer: “That’s what I f***** said; you people just—”

Manager: “Okay, sir, as requested all your accounts are now closed. The amount you had owing on your credit card has been automatically paid from your everyday account, leaving you a balance of $52.16, which I’ll post out to you as a check. I’m sorry you’ve chosen to leave [Bank], but I hope you have a wonderful day.”

Customer: “YOU CLOSED MY ACCOUNTS?! BUT I—”

Manager: “You requested for them to be close on a recorded phone call where you were asked to confirm your wishes. You aren’t scamming anymore FREE money from [Bank].”

Customer: “I…”

Manager: “Hello?”

Customer: *defeated* “I… err… I’ll… I’ll wait for my check.” *click*

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Didn’t Bank On That Ending

| Eugene, OR, USA | Right | November 11, 2013

(It’s a particularly busy day in our bank, and I’m working the drive through window. I have a long line of cars waiting, when I hear a customer in line start shouting across the lobby at the other tellers in front.)

Customer: “Look, I’m on my work break here! Can’t you go any faster?”

Coworker: “We’re moving as fast as we can, ma’am. We’re a bit short-staffed today, but we’ll be with you as soon as possible.”

Customer: “But I’m on my BREAK! I have to get back to work.”

Coworker: *still running another customer’s transaction* “Yes, ma’am, I understand.”

Customer: “Well, what about her? Can’t she help me? I’m in a hurry!”

(I suddenly realize that she’s referring to me, while I’m in the middle of my fifth car in a row.)

Manager: “Ma’am, she’s currently assisting customers in our drive through. If she becomes available, she will come to the front to help whoever she can.”

Customer: “Well, I would have driven through myself if I knew it would take this long!”

(I continue to help cars, and after finishing the last transaction, I go to the front to help. I get the shouting customer.)

Coworker: “Ma’am, this deposit slip is for [Competing Bank].”

(The customer turns BRIGHT RED and rushes out so fast you’d think she just robbed the place.)

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He Is Irony Man

| Lansing, MI, USA | Right | November 11, 2013

(I work third shift at a local gas station, and have just finished ringing a customer up.)

Me: “Do you have a rewards card with us, sir?”

Customer: “No, and I don’t want one. That’s just a way for people I don’t know to track the things I’m buying!”

Me: “That’s fine, sir. Your total today is [total].”

Customer: “Alright, I’ll be putting it on my credit card.”

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Young Boys Display Monstrous Behavior

| TX, USA | Right | November 11, 2013

(I work in a costume shop, and I see a six- or seven-year-old boy looking through the aisle.)

Me: “Hey there, little guy! Are you looking for a costume?”

Boy: “Yeah! I’m gonna be a clown, zombie, vampire, werewolf, monster!”

(The mother of the boy comes around the corner.)

Mother: “Sweetie, you can only be one, so just choose one.”

Boy:” Okay, can I be a clown monster werewolf vampire?”

Me: “But not a zombie?”

Boy: “Oh yeah, and zombie!”

Me: “How about we stick two of them together? You can be a werewolf zombie, or a clown monster, or a vampire clown, even.”

Boy: “Ooh! I want to be a vampire clown. Can I be a vampire clown, please? I want lots of blood.”

Mother: “Do you even have a vampire clown costume?”

Me: “We have clown and vampire costumes separately. I’d say a clown outfit, some vampire teeth, and some blood should make the costume right.”

Boy: “Do you have lots of blood?”

(I point to the rack with small tubes of fake blood.)

Me: “We only have these.”

Boy: “No, I want lots of blood.”

Me: “Well, I’m sure it’ll have enough—”

Boy: *serious face* “No. I want lots of blood. I’ll just have to take yours…”

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