A Grade-A A**hole

, , , , | Right | March 19, 2019

(Someone I went to school with comes into my shop.)

Customer: “What size is this?” *holds up cup*

Me: “Large.”

Customer: “How can you know? You barely looked at it.”

Me: “It has, ‘large,’ written on it.”

Customer: “Well, you don’t have to be so f****** rude!” *leaves shouting that I’m stupid because I got a C in English while he got an A*

Shirty With The Truth

, , , | Right | March 19, 2019

(The store I work at has had immense issues with corporate, and we are waiting on them, and have been, for over a month for many things. We can’t physically sell the things people order online before we get them. My normal manager is out this week and in her place is a spineless assistant manager. I’m nineteen and am only working for the summer, yet I am practically in charge because of the incompetence.)

Customer: “I’ve been waiting two weeks for my shirts; where are they?!”

Me: “I’m so sorry about that, ma’am. Do you possibly have your order number so I can look that up?”

Customer: *rudely* “No, you should have it in the system.”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, can I have your name, please?”

(The customer glares at me LIKE I SOMEHOW SHOULD BE ABLE TO GUESS HER NAME and writes it down for me. I take it back to the manager, we search her up, and the system says her stuff shipped on Monday. I go back out.)

Me: “So, our system says it shipped on Friday, so hopefully you should see those in about a week.”

Customer: “Can I get a shipping number?”

Me: “Absolutely!”

(I go back again. The manager says that she doesn’t have one, so maybe we “shipped” it after the mail came on Friday, and the mail guy didn’t come again until today.)

Me: “So, my manager says that even though our system says it shipped on Friday, it is possible that it didn’t actually leave until today, which is why she can’t find a tracking number. If you want—“

Customer: “I knew it! I knew you weren’t telling me the truth! Get me someone who will actually tell the truth!”

(My manager comes out next to me and literally repeats everything I just said, while I’m standing next to her.)

Customer: “I could tell the way she—“ *flips hand at me* “—was looking at me that she was lying, that she wasn’t telling the truth. Thank you for telling me the truth.”

(She left and the manager went into the back again, yelling a quick “sorry” to me. I don’t know what planet she had to be on to think that a nineteen-year-old would be hiding and lying about her shirts.)

Wireless, Clueless, And Racist

, , , , , , | Right | March 19, 2019

(I’m working at a retail drug store that has a photo kiosk available for customers to come in and print photos from their phone. I am ringing up a line of customers when another customer calls me from the kiosk, yelling across the store.)

Customer: “Can I get some help, please?!”

Me: “Absolutely, ma’am. I’ll call up my manager, since I’m the only cashier today.”

Customer: *scoffs*

(I call up my manager, and can hear her trying to help the lady from several feet away.)

Manager: “Just plug your phone into the cords we have provided. That’s the simplest and fastest way to do this.”

Customer: “No! You’re going to steal all my information from my phone! I want to do this wirelessly!”

Manager: “Okay… the best way to do that is to do it as an online order, which may take up to an hour. We will be watching the kiosks, so as soon as the order comes through, we can print it instantly. However, as I said, it may take up to an hour for the order to come through. I highly recommend you plug the phone in, instead, as that will be much quicker.”

Customer: “I’m not using your cords. You’re trying to steal my credit card information! I’ll just do it as an online order.”

(The customer proceeds to put in an online order with her phone. Ten minutes later, her order has not yet come through, despite both my manager and I checking the kiosk repeatedly. My manager goes to the bathroom and is gone for a total of one minute and thirty seconds. During that time, the customer brings her four-year-old daughter up to me and screams:)

Customer:If and when those photos finally come in, you can throw them out. I’m taking my business somewhere else. I’ve been waiting for these photos for thirty minutes! This is absolutely ridiculous! That [racial slur] of a manager promised me that they would be ready instantly. I’m leaving and never coming back!”

Me: “Ma’am, I heard her tell you that it could take up to an hour, and I heard you agree to this. Are you sure I can’t take a phone number and call you when they’re ready?”

Customer: “No! Throw them out. I’m going elsewhere.”

(As they are leaving her daughter turns around and says:)

Daughter: “We’re going to [Direct Competitor].”

(Her photos were ready seconds after she left. There were over 300 photos and we had to just throw them away.)

Running Your Own Internal Diagnostic – AKA Crying

, , , | Right | March 19, 2019

(My boyfriend and I return from an out-of-town funeral to find that our Internet isn’t working. He calls to try and get it sorted out. Over the course of a week, they have him run through the over-the-phone diagnostics three separate times, and they fail to show up to two different appointments to come look at it after those diagnostics don’t work. Finally, it’s my turn to call. I am in the middle of the busiest time of year at work, working twelve-hour days and weekends. I call and explain the situation to the customer service representative.)

Me: “I just want to schedule another appointment.”

Customer Service Rep: *pulls up our account* “I see that there was one no-show service appointment, but the other one isn’t showing up at all.”

Me: “I assure you that the last representative that my boyfriend spoke to had confirmed that the appointment was in their system, and that their tech guy did not show up.”

(I’ve already had a rough day, but I’m trying to remain polite while going through all this, but she doesn’t seem to be listening.)

Customer Service Rep: “I’ll need to run through the over-the-phone diagnostics with you.”

Me: “We have been dealing with this for several days now, we’ve already run through the diagnostics multiple times, and it’s been established that we do, in fact, need someone to come out and look at it in person.”

(This does not deter her at all; for the next five or so minutes we go back and forth, her insisting on the diagnostics, me explaining that we already know that we are past that point, that it should reflect that in our account, and that I just want to make a service appointment. I am exhausted and drained physically and emotionally, and eventually, I reach a breaking point while she’s trying to get me to run the diagnostics:)

Customer Service Rep: “Okay, ma’am, but if you’ll just run through these diagnostics first so that we can rule out any of these problems—“

Me: “Please, I’m begging you. We have already done them. We know we need someone to come out. I just want to schedule another appointment.”

Customer Service Rep: “I understand. So, let’s first run through these—“

Me: *bursts into tears, attempting to talk while obviously crying* “You know what? Never mind. I’ll try calling later.” *hangs up*

(A minute later my phone rings:)

Customer Service Rep: “Hello, [My Name]? This is [Customer Service Rep] with [Company], and I believe we were just speaking on the phone?”

Me: *somewhat recovered from crying* “Yes, hi. Sorry about hanging up; I just wanted to call another time.”

Customer Service Rep: “Right. Well, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

Me: “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you for asking. I just got a little upset. I’ll try calling a different time when I’m not as stressed.”

Customer Service Rep: “I understand, ma’am. But let’s just get that appointment scheduled for you while you’re here…”

(My boyfriend teased me for months about crying on the phone with a customer service rep, but we got our Internet fixed! I still make him call most of the time, though.)

Seeing Eye Snake

, , , , | Right | March 19, 2019

(The store I work in technically has a “service animals only” policy, but a lot of people bring their dogs in, anyway. This particular morning, however…)

Customer: *comes up to my register with a small purchase*

Me: “Good morning!”

(I go through the transaction normally for a moment, and then notice she has an item in her hand that she hasn’t put on the counter for me to ring up.)

Me: *internally freaking out but continuing with the transaction, because this is not an item we sell* “Have a good day!”

(I left my till shortly after that to go work on a project, all the while internally wondering who does that. This woman had come in with a living, breathing, moving SNAKE. It was wrapped around her hand, just chillin’. She said nothing, and I said nothing except the typical idle chit-chat. I was so surprised that I didn’t know what to say.)

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