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The Customer Strikes Back

| CA, USA | Technology

(I’ve finally gotten around to playing the video game, ‘Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic.’ Since I’ve never played before, I talk to all the characters standing and walking around. In the cantina on the starting world, I have an encounter with one of the patrons.)

Woman: “Where did you get those clothes, a trash compactor in the lower city? And where are those drinks we ordered?”

Real Me: “Wow, rude little brat.”

Me In Game: “Who are you and why are you bossing me around?”

Woman: “Why is the help here so incompetent? One word from daddy and I could get you fired!”

Real Me: “Holy crap, it’s a virtual Not Always Right story.”

Me In Game: “I don’t even work here!”

Woman: “How dare you speak to me like that? Daddy’s going to hear about this!” *runs off*

Real Me: “Okay, this was some impressive realism for a Star Wars game.”

(Later, when I left the cantina, she showed back up and set some thugs on me. I shot down her thugs Han Solo style, and she ran off screaming for daddy. It’s a good thing most real life stories don’t go that far!)

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Don’t Chew The Fat With Me If You Can’t Handle It

| OR, USA | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Health & Body

(I’ve recently given birth to a gorgeous baby girl, and while I’ve now returned to my job, I haven’t yet managed to shed the weight I put on during my pregnancy.)

Customer: “D***, you’ve really gotten fat!”

Me: *silently checking out his purchases*

Customer: “I mean, I’ve only been coming here for like a year so that is some incredible weight gain!”

Me: *just shrugs and keeps scanning his purchases*

Customer: “So…what’s the deal? Boyfriend left ya? Job getting to ya? Feeling like the only reason for living is to get to the bottom of your third tub of ice cream?”

Me: “That’ll be [price].”

(The customer doesn’t pull out his wallet just yet.)

Customer: “Well, are you gonna answer me, whale?”

Me: “First off, let me ask this: what is your endgame here?”

Customer: “Huh? My what?”

Me: “Your endgame. What do you hope to accomplish by insulting and belittling me here? Because so far all you’re doing is making yourself look like a complete idiot to everyone around you.”

(The customer turns and notices the rest of the line is staring at him, some in shock and some in quiet disdain.)

Customer: “I… uh… well… so you know you’re a fat-a** and do something about it!”

Me: “I am doing something about it. I put on this weight because I was pregnant. Now I’m hitting the gym at least four times a week so I’ll no doubt lose it again.”

Customer: “Well… uh… I dunno, then! I didn’t think you were going to quiz me about this!”

Me: “Your total is still [price].”

Customer: “No! F*** you, fat b****! Now I feel bad and it’s all your fault!”

(He storms off, leaving me to have to void his entire transaction.)

Me: “I apologize for this. It won’t take me more than a minute.”

Next Customer In Line: “How… How did you keep your cool through that?”

Me: “Ten hours of labor and a baby that made every bit of pain totally worth it. After that, it takes a lot more than a moron’s poorly chosen words to hurt me.”

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The Perfect Catalog Response

| HI, USA | Bizarre, Crazy Requests

(I work in a large, chain department store. We have sales every week, and mail out catalogues for every sale, along with newspaper ads, commercials, etc. During a busy Saturday sale during the holiday season, I’m working in the woman’s clothing section. A tiny, elderly lady shuffles through the door, spots me, and heads in my direction.)

Me: “Good afternoon!”

Customer: “Hi. You had a sweater in your catalogue.” *a moment’s pause* “Where is it?”

Me: “…”

(I immediately envision all the ways this conversation can go horribly, horribly wrong, but while I’m standing there petrified, she turns her head to the side.)

Customer: “Ah, there it is.”

(She shuffled off into the racks. I blinked, let out a long breath, and scampered away. This tale raised much hooting laughter in the break room later. Never has an employee in that situation been let off the hook so neatly!)

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Just Three Hot Minutes Away From Complete Anarchy

, | Port St Lucie, FL, USA | Bad Behavior, Wild & Unruly

(I am the manager for a busy fast food chain. Naturally, when we run out of product because it sells quicker than expected, we have to cook more.)

Drive-Thru: “Sir, it’ll be about three minutes for the chicken to finish cooking. Do you want something else or is waiting okay?”

Customer #1: “No, I’ll wait. Just don’t forget about me.” *drives forward and parks*

(The chicken has just come up not even three minutes later and we are in the process of assembling his sandwiches when the customer comes storming inside. So of course I think to myself: “yup, here comes Hell*)

Customer #1: “F**K THIS! I HAD TO WAIT FOR MY FOOD TO COOK. YOU KNOW WHAT? I ORDER HERE EVERYDAY! I WANT MY F***ING FOOD OR MY F***ING MONEY!”

(At this point he is screaming at the top of his lungs, in front of all my other guests.)

Me: “Okay, sir, just give me one moment. Your food just came up. I’ve got it right here for you.”

Customer #1: “F**K THIS. THIS IS A WASTE OF F***ING TIME. I WANT MY FOOD OR MY F***ING MONEY.”

(The food is in my hand, in front of him, as he is screaming this.)

Other Manager: “Sir, she has it ready. Just please stop cursing at us. We have it for you.”

Customer #1: “F*** YOU!”

(At this point there are children inside with another customer.)

Customer #2: “Sir, please stop.”

Customer #1: “YOU WANT TO FIGHT? COME OUT HERE AND FIGHT ME!”

Customer #2: “Sir. There’s no need to curse, that’s all I’m saying.”

Customer #1: “THIS IS F****** AMERICA! I CAN SAY WHATEVER THE F*** I WANT. SO SHUT YOUR GOD-D*** MOUTH!”

(Finally, after five minutes of screaming over the food, he snatches it out of my hand nearly ripping the bag and storms off out the door.)

Customer #2: “What was his problem?”

(We all couldn’t help but just start laughing.)

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The Sauce Of All The Weirdness

, | Port St Lucie, FL, USA | At The Checkout, Bizarre, Food & Drink

Customer: *in drive-thru* “Can I get a [Sandwich #1]? But what comes on that?”

Me: “It comes with lettuce, cheese, special sauce, onions, pickles, meat, and bread.”

Customer: “Okay, yeah. Can I have that, but I don’t want a bun. Or cheese.”

Me: “Okay, I can do that.”

Customer: “I don’t want onions or lettuce either. And no pickles. And no meat. What does that leave?”

Me: “Sauce.”

Customer: “And no sauce either.”

Me: “So, you don’t want the [Sandwich #1]?”

Customer: “No, I want it. Hey, what’s on the [Sandwich #2]?”

Me: “It comes with—”

Customer: *drives off into the distance never to be seen or heard again*

(What the f*** just happened?)

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