Molecule Of Mildew On Aisle Six
I am stocking shelves when a customer comes up to me. I have never seen him before.
Customer: “Where are the [Brand] jeans?”
Me: “Aisle six, sir.”
He heads that way and I resume stocking. Eight minutes later, he storms up to me.
Customer: “THEY DON’T HAVE MY SIZE! YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT!”
Me: “I’m sorry you couldn’t find your size [Brand] jeans, sir. Would you like me to page an associate who works in the clothing department to assist you with finding something suitable?”
Customer: “NO! I HATE THIS STORE! AND YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME YOU DIDN’T HAVE MY SIZE!”
Me: “Sir, I don’t even know what your size is.”
Customer: “YOU SHOULD D*** WELL KNOW! I’M A REGULAR HERE AND YOU ALL SHOULD KNOW MY D*** SIZE!”
Me: *Struggling to remain professional* “Sir, I have never met you before today. I do not know your jeans size.”
Customer: “GO F*** YOURSELF!”
I lose all sense of professionalism. I know I’m not allowed to swear at customers, but I can be… creative when I want to.
Me: “Get out of my face, you rhizomorph. And don’t use foul language; children are present in the store.”
Customer: “THE CHILDREN CAN GO F*** THEMSELVES, TOO!”
Me: “Leave, you molecule of mildew.”
A mother comes up, with two kids in tow. She speaks in the coldest, angriest voice I’ve ever heard.
Mother: “Before I rip your throat out and have my kids piss down it.”
That got his attention; he suddenly realized he was making himself look like a jerk to other customers. He stomped off, muttering under his breath.
Question of the Week
Have you ever served a bad customer who got what they deserved?
