I work in a farmer’s market. There’s a woman who comes in sometimes within the last half hour before we close. We are big on customer service and will help people past close, and it doesn’t bother us because most of them try to be quick and often apologize for being late.

This woman, however, is one of the rudest, most confusing people I’ve ever had the displeasure of serving. She will come at the last minute and start yelling before she even reaches the counter.

Woman: “Doesn’t anyone work here?! Excuse me! Excuse me! Can they help me?! I need help!”

One day, I was helping a customer while almost everyone else was busy tearing things down, putting things away, etc. The woman walked up and instantly started yelling at me, demanding to know if the slicer — who was in the middle of tearing down a machine and deep cleaning it — could help her. Honestly, it is not the slicer’s job, and we try to avoid making them help customers because of how busy they are with their duties.

Thankfully, I saw another employee walking out.

Me: “Oh, [Coworker] would be happy to help!”

My customer just stood there in awe of the audacity; this woman had cut them off mid-sentence asking me about a product.

This woman has also more than once come and ignored the person of color trying to serve her and then started snapping — literally snapping — at a white employee who was clearly busy to help her. So, not only is she extremely rude and entitled, but she’s also racist to boot. It’s bad, but I always try to be as monotone as possible when helping her. I can’t even force a smile for someone who acts like that.

I was working as a producer for a client who brought in a pool of actors they wanted to use in an upcoming production.

Me: “I noticed you have some Asian talent in the headshots you sent us. Do you know what ethnicity they are?”

Client: “I think this one is Japanese, this one, I think, is Cambodian, and this girl may be Korean.”

Me: “Do any of them speak their native language?”

Client: “I think they all speak a little Asian, yeah.”

Related:
Don’t You Speak Asian?, Part 5
Don’t You Speak Asian?, Part 4
Don’t You Speak Asian?, Part 3
Don’t You Speak Asian?, Part 2
Don’t You Speak Asian?

My dad used to work for a heating and gas company. The company had twenty-four-seven after-hours emergency service. My dad’s area of coverage was about a two-hour drive in any direction.

One day, my dad got an emergency call on the weekend for a town roughly two hours away. As he got to that town, a blizzard rolled in — not a terrible one, but enough that you’d definitely have to drive slower when on the roads.

As he was at the site, he got another emergency call from a woman in another town two hours the other way, closer to where he lived. He called the customer, and she said she smelled gas. My dad went through the usual questions. He had a few theories about why she might be smelling gas.

Dad: “Can you please check [gauge] on your propane tank?”

Woman: “No, I won’t do that! I’m not qualified to look.”

Dad: “Do you have another source of heat you can use?”

Woman: “I do.”

Dad: “Okay. Turn off the gas to your house and use the backup heat source, and I’ll be there in a few hours.”

Woman: “That’s unacceptable! I need you here right now!”

Dad: “Unfortunately, that isn’t possible. I’m in [Town] several hours away.”

Woman: “No! I need you to be here now!”

Dad: *Bluntly* “Listen. You wanting me there now doesn’t change anything. I’m in another town two hours away. There is a blizzard going on, so that will slow me down. I can’t fly to where you live, and I’m not rushing and risking my life just to get to your place sooner. So, I can be there in a few hours, or you can wait until the week starts, when all the technicians are back to work, and you can have someone help you then.”

The woman backs down.

Woman: “A few hours will be fine.”

My dad got there after a few hours of driving, and almost right away, he saw the issue. Apparently, she was running out of propane, and smelling gas is some sort of warning sign a tank is getting low. If she had looked at the gauge like he’d asked, it would have saved the drive, plus the bill for him coming out to check, and she could have called the proper people to fill her tank.

Because it was an emergency call, she had to pay a bill that was triple what a typical weekday call was, in addition to the cost of having a truck come out to fill her tank.

I mainly do tech support but also take calls regarding billing. A customer calls to complain that his Internet is out. After the usual spiel with privacy checks and bringing up his account, it immediately becomes apparent that he is disconnected due to non-payment, and, in fact, has been permanently removed as a customer because of the number of unpaid bills.

The man is outraged about this. He decides to treat me to a string of expletives that quite enhances my own vocabulary (and that’s a feat) and demands to be reconnected.

Caller: “You do what I say! Don’t forget, I’m the customer; I pay your salary!”

Unbeknown to me, at the time, my supervisor one cubicle over is listening in.

Me: “No, sir, that’s the problem; you haven’t paid us for six months.”

This was when I noticed that my supervisor was listening in, because of the laughter from his spot.

Related:
Doesn’t Understand The Custom Part Of Customer, Part 23
Doesn’t Understand The Custom Part Of Customer, Part 22
Doesn’t Understand The Custom Part Of Customer, Part 21
Doesn’t Understand The Custom Part Of Customer, Part 20
Doesn’t Understand The Custom Part Of Customer, Part 19

I live in Iceland, and I used to work in a mini supermarket in the city centre. An American woman bought some groceries. Fifteen minutes later, she came back.

Customer: *Yelling at me* “All your products are expired!”

Me: “Ma’am, in Europe, we format dates day, then month, and then year.”

Customer: “I don’t believe you! I want a refund!”

Me: “I can’t do that; the items aren’t expired.”

She got extra mad.

Customer: “I want a refund now!”

Regular Customer: “Ma’am, the dates are formatted differently; your groceries aren’t expired.”

Customer: “No, they’re expired! I want a refund!”

Me: “Good luck finding another store to sell you your groceries, ma’am. Everything is expired here in Iceland.”