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Yeah, But Our Delhis Come With Salami

, , , | Right | April 24, 2008

(Please note that I have a rather generic first name for the US, generic like, say, John or Mike.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Business] Tech Shop, [My Name] speaking. Can I help you?”

Irate customer: “Can I speak to a f****** American?”

Me: “Last time I checked, I’m an American. Can I help you?”

Customer: “Oh, yeah? Well, where are you!?”

Me: “Mount Laurel, New Jersey — in the store you called.”

Customer: “That sounds like it’s in India.”

Me: “Unless New Jersey has moved recently, we’re part of the US.”

Customer: “Just let me speak to an American, d*** it!”

Me: “Yes, sir, please hold.”

(I transferred him to the Wilmington, Delaware store, as we do with many of our irate customers.)


This story is part of our India roundup!

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If The Shoe Fits…

, , , , , | Right | April 24, 2008

Me: “Thank you for calling [Orthopedic office]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “PUT MY DAUGHTER ON THE PHONE!”

Me: “I’m sorry? This is [Ortho]–”

Caller: “No it isn’t! Now put my daughter on the phone right now! She knows she isn’t supposed to have boys over!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I think you have the wrong number.”

Caller: “NO I DON’T.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m afraid–”

Caller: “You better be! I’m on my way home RIGHT NOW and god help you if you’re still there!”

(By this point we have several calls waiting to be answered. My supervisor signals me to transfer the call to them so I can get back to my job.)

Me: “Ma’am, I assure you this is a medical office. Would you like to speak to my supervisor?”

Caller: *dripping with sarcasm* “Oh suuuure! Put me through to your supervisor!”

Supervisor: “Thank you for calling [Orthopedics], how can I help you?”

Caller: “WHAT?! WHO ARE YOU? WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE?!”

(It took several minutes for my supervisor to get the woman off the phone, after which she called three more times…)


This story is part of the Overprotective Parents roundup!

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Shoulda Filled It With Apples

, , , , , , , | Right | April 24, 2008

Customer: “I want to return this computer.”

Me: “Okay, I can help you with that. Where is it?”

(The customer puts a badly damaged computer box on the counter. I open the box and find that it’s filled with oranges.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I’m unable to accept this for return.”

Customer: “When I opened the box, it was filled with oranges! I want my money back.”

Me: “Can I see your receipt?”

(The customer hands me a handwritten receipt from a generic receipt book.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, this is not a store receipt. I’m unable to accept this.”

Customer: “The guy I bought it from said he got it here for $99 dollars and if I didn’t like it, I could return it here. I want my money back! I got ripped off!”

Me: “Sir, I apologize that you gave this guy your money, but it seems he gave you a box of oranges and a fake receipt. I’m unable to help you…”

(At this point, the customer got very loud and started throwing oranges around the store. Someone called the police and he was eventually arrested. To this day, I’m unsure if I should laugh or feel sorry for the guy.)


This story is part of our Macintosh roundup!

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How About A Side Of Hypocrisy

, , , | Right | April 23, 2008

Me: *preparing a gyro wrap for a customer* “Would you like cheese on it?”

Customer: “Oh my God, no! I’m a VEGAN! Don’t you know what they do to cows in those horrible farms? They force them to get pregnant all the time, and then they take away their babies and kill them so we humans can steal their milk! Dairy products are cruelty!”

Me: “Okay, okay. No cheese. Moving along. What sauces would you like on that?”

Customer: “Tzatziki sauce, please.”

(Note: the particular brand of tzatziki we purchased included both yogurt and sour cream.)

Me: “Ah, I’m afraid that’s a dairy prod–”

Customer: “I DON’T CARE! PUT IT ON!”

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Note To Self: Stop Wearing Ninja Outfit To Work

, | Right | April 23, 2008

Customer: “Excuse me, sir, where are the Exacto knives?”

Me: “They’re on aisle 24, ma’am.”

Customer: “Thank you, you do seem like someone who would know where the knives are.” *walks off*

Me: “…”

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