Walk A Mile In His Shirts

| Hawthorne, NJ, USA | Bizarre

(I am working on the register, totaling a customer.)

Next Customer: “Can I ask for some help?”

(I decide to multi-task.)

Me: “Of course.”

Next Customer: “My son wears a size six in shirts. What’s his shoe size?”

Me: “…”

Has No Hang-Ups About Hanging Up

| QLD, Australia | Bad Behavior, Bizarre

(I am serving a customer at the changing rooms in our store. The phone rings and before I can pick it up a customer answers.)

Customer: *on the phone* “No, we can’t help you.” *hangs up the phone*

(The customer then walked away as if nothing had even happened. The customer on the phone called back and abused me for 15 minutes about rude staff hanging up on him.)

The Site Of A Grave Error

| Phoenix, AZ, USA | Crazy Requests

(I work for a university tech support. I only troubleshoot things involved with our site. I get calls all the time about people complaining that their Internet is not working. This customer in particular is very stubborn about me fixing their Internet. She tells me that she can’t get our website to load up, and that she gets a ‘page cannot be found’ error.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am I’d be glad to help. Can you try going to Google for me.”

Customer: “Okay… I get the same error.”

Me: “Okay, that means your Internet has gone down on your computer or from your Internet service provider.”

Customer: “But the Internet on my phone works just fine! I just need your site to load up for me, so fix it!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, I can’t fix your computer for you because that goes outside our scope of support. You will need to contact either your computer manufacturer, who can then tell you what option to look for to get your Internet back up, or call your ISP who can do the same thing.”

Customer: “But it is just your site I need; why can’t you fix your own site? Every time I call you guys you send me somewhere else and never do your jobs!”

Me: “Ma’am, my job is to troubleshoot our site when something is not working properly. Even though our site is not working on your end, every other site that you go to is also not working. Are you going to call every website you are trying to get to and have them tell you the same thing I am?”

Customer: “If I need their site working I will call them. Now, fix this.”

Me: “As I have told you, I can’t fix this. What you are asking is essentially like going to Wal-Mart and complaining that the electricity at K-mart is out. They are not going to be able to do anything to get that fixed. If you don’t have any other questions I am going to disconnect this call.”

Customer: “Get me your manager!”

Me: “I’d be happy to if there was one available. They are in meetings. Besides, they will say the same thing I’m telling you and you will have your day wasted to hear the same thing again. Call your ISP or computer manufacturer and I promise you will get this fixed.” *click*

Not The Sharpest Pair Of Scissors

| OH, USA | Extra Stupid, Language & Words

Customer: “Where’s your skidders at?

Me: “I’m sorry, the what?”

Customer: “Skidders. Skid. Ers. Where they at? I can’t find ’em anywhere.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I can tell you where just about anything in this store is, but I’m not sure I’m familiar with skidders. What are they used for? What do they look like?”

Customer: “Ugh. SKIDDERS! God, you’re dumb.”

Me: “No, I’m not. We just don’t carry skidders here. Sorry.”

Customer: *making a scissoring motion with his fingers* “Skidders! Where. Are. Your. Skidders. You cut paper with ’em. Jesus!”

Me: “Oh, you mean SCISSORS? They’re actually right here. Right in front of you. This whole eight-foot section is nothing but scissors.”

Customer: “Well, I call ’em skidders. God, you’re dumb.”

(How am I supposed to know what you want when you make up your own words for things and can’t see what’s right in front of you?)

Wish It Had Taken A Quarter Of The Time

| WA, USA | At The Checkout, Family & Kids, Money, Wild & Unruly

(A mother and her adult daughter come into our store and proceed to be all kinds of trouble to everyone they see, including calling one of my coworkers a “little person” (and she’s around 5’6″, same as they are), knocking a child down with their cart “because she won’t move,” demanding products we don’t have, trying to go into employees-only areas, etc. FINALLY they come up to my register, where they break something and blame it on me, even though it hasn’t even come out of their cart yet. They also lecture me for five minutes about how my job is “not a joke” for no reason. After they go to leave, the mom comes back and wants to cut line and buy a candy bar. I just let her so that she’ll leave faster, and ask a coworker to hop on another register to serve the people who are waiting.)

Me: “Okay, that will be $2.99.”

(She hands me a $5 bill. I open my cash drawer to realize I just ran out of $1 bills. The manager who can get me change has just been called away.)

Me: “Do you mind if $1 of your change is in quarters? I just ran out of $1 bills and it will be a few minutes to get more.”

Customer: “No, that’s fine.”

(I proceed to hand her four quarters, a $1 bill, and a penny: $2.01 change.)

Me: “Here you go. Sorry again about the quarters. Have a good one.”

Customer: “Thanks!”

(Suddenly, the daughter LUNGES at me.)

Daughter: “YOU DIDN’T GIVE PROPER CHANGE! THAT IS NOT THE RIGHT CHANGE! FIX IT!”

Me: “Um, it is the proper change, $2.01. I gave her $1 in quarters because I ran out of bills.”

Customer: “Yes, honey, this is correct. I need the quarters anyway.”

Daughter: “NO! IT IS NOT RIGHT! GIVE HER THE RIGHT CHANGE NOW!”

(I’ve had it with these two at this point, so I take the change back from the customer and lay it on the counter.)

Me: “Okay, let’s count. $1, that is the bill. $1.25, bill plus one quarter. $1.50, bill plus two quarters. $1.75, bill plus three quarters. $2.00, bill plus four quarters. Four quarters makes a dollar, you see? And finally, $2.01; bill plus four quarters plus a penny. That is the correct change.”

(The mother is embarrassed at this point, but doing nothing to stop her daughter.)

Daughter: “NO! IT’S NOT RIGHT! YOU’RE TRYING TO STEAL FROM MY MOM!”

Me: “I literally have no other way I can explain this. I will call a manager.”

(I had to call a manager to confirm to the daughter that I gave her mother proper change. She still didn’t get it, and her mother just dragged her out yelling. How do you make it to around at least 25 years old without knowing four quarters makes a dollar?)

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