Way Past Time Magazine

| Monroe, CT, USA | Books & Reading, Crazy Requests, Health & Body

(It’s 11:20 pm and we close at 11 pm. Cashiers are counting out their tills, stockers are unloading boxes in the aisles, and the cleaning crew is scrubbing the place down. I’m counting lotto tickets behind the customer service desk when one of the cleaning crew comes over.)

Janitor: “Hey, is [Manager] around?”

Me: “No, he’s on the phone with corporate for a while. What’s up?”

Janitor: “You’d better come with me, then.”

(I follow him to the back of the store where the water fountains and bathrooms are, and I hear someone hollering from the men’s room.)

Me: *knocking on the door* “Um, hello, is there someone in there?”

Customer: “Yes! I’ve been sitting here calling for help for almost a half hour!”

Me: “Oh, my god, sir. I’m so sorry. The store closed and no one was around this area. Do you need medical attention?”

Customer: “No, of course not.”

Me: “Oh, uh, did you run out of toilet paper?”

Customer: “No, there’s plenty here.”

Me: “Okay… Then, what did you need help with?”

Customer: “I finished reading this Time magazine I picked up from the book section. Can you bring me the latest issue of Car & Driver?”

(We had to go get the manager, who threatened to charge him with trespassing if he didn’t finish his “business” and get out of the store. The man flushed, didn’t wash his hands, and stormed out the front door.)

Me: “He left the Time magazine in there. You don’t want me to put it back, do you?”

Manager: “H***, no. BURN IT.”

Go Easy On The Brain

| AZ, USA | Extra Stupid, Food & Drink, Funny Names

(I am delivering to a customer who placed their order online. When I get to the door I begin reading off the ticket to make sure everything is correct and accounted for, as is standard procedure, when the customer interrupts me.)

Customer: “And what kind of cheese did you put on it?”

Me: “I believe we use mozzarella and parmesan.”

Customer: “NO! That is NOT what I ordered! You were supposed to make it with Ezon cheese!” *pronouncing ‘ezon’ with a pretentious French accent*

Me: “Um… Sorry, but I’ve never heard of this cheese, and as far as I know we don’t use it.”

Customer: *in a condescending tone* “Well, of course you haven’t heard of it. Maybe if you weren’t so ignorant you’d have a real job instead of delivering pizzas. And apparently even that’s too hard for you because you don’t even know what kind of cheese you use. You’ll probably end up making a career out of getting pregnant for welfare checks.”

Me: “Actually sir, I’m just doing this for extra cash while I’m in University. And since I also do inventory and prep work, I’m certain we don’t carry this type of cheese.”

Customer: “Well, I clicked the button for it on your website! That’s what I asked for and that’s what I was supposed to get!”

(Snatching the receipt out of my hands, then shoving it right up in my face.)

Customer: “GOD, it’s right there on the receipt! SEE?! Eeeeee-zonnn cheeeeeese!”

Me: *suddenly understanding and laughing* “No.”

Customer: “No?! What do you mean NO?!”

Me: “You clicked the button for ‘easy on the cheese.'”

(The customer goes silent and looks at the receipt again, where it says ‘EZon cheese.’ Then without a word he hurriedly tosses some money at me, rips the pizza bag out of my hands and slams the door in my face. I pick up the money off the ground and quickly count it to find it is short. I ring the doorbell a few times before he throws it open, looking livid.)

Customer: “NOW what do you want?!”

Me: *holding up the wadded bills* “I can count properly too, and you still owe $2.37. I’m also going to need the bag back.”

(The customer makes a very dramatic show of stomping his feet as he goes back to the kitchen, and shoves three more dollar bills at me. As I am turning to leave, he explodes again.)

Customer: “What the h*** are you doing?!”

Me: “Leaving.”

Customer: “What about my change?! You think you’re getting a tip after what you put me through?! You still owe me fifty-seven cents!”

Me: “No, a dollar minus thirty-seven is sixty-three. And we don’t carry anything smaller than a dollar bill. Have a nice day.”

Customer: “I am NEVER giving you people my business EVER AGAIN! You can kiss my money goodbye!!!”

Me: “Don’t worry, sir; you were going to be placed on the no-delivery list anyway.”

Not The Most Connected Of Families

| KY, USA | Bizarre, Family & Kids, Technology

(I work at a popular video game store inside of a mall. One evening I greet a boy around the age of 15. Not much time passes before I notice he’s been browsing the XBox Live cards and seems very lost.)

Me: “Hey, did you have any questions?”

Boy: “I just got an XBox 360, and my buddy said I need a live membership. What’s that?”

(I go through the explanation of how XBox Live works, how it gets you free games and everything, etc.)

Boy: “Okay. But then, how do I get it in my system?”

Me: “Well, the cards here come with a code. On your 360, you just go into the store while logged in on your account, and there should be an area to redeem the code on the back. That’ll get it attached to your account! It’s really easy.”

Boy: *seems suspicious* “So then… I guess… they mail it to me?”

Me: “Oh, no! You just enter the code that comes with the card onto your 360, and it goes on there… I may not be explaining this right, sorry. But there are detailed instructions on the card!”

Boy: “…so then, after I put it on my system, they mail it to me?!”

Me: “Ah, nope… It’s all digital.”

Boy: “But then where do the free games come from?”

Me: “They’re digital as well! You download them. It’s easy, and it pretty much explains itself as you do it.”

Boy: “And then if I download them they mail me something?”

Me: “Oh, nope, you don’t get anything in the mail.”

Boy: “But then how do I get it?”

Me: “You… download it?”

Boy: “But then what will they mail me?”

Me: “Nothing? Anything you need you download right to your XBox 360. Like, through the Internet.”

Boy: “Oh. Okay.”

Me: “Yup.”

Boy: “So I just enter that code, and then download it?”

Me: “Yeah!”

Boy: “Through the mail.”

Me: “No, nothing comes in the mail; it’s through the Internet.”

Boy: “But then what do I download through the mail?”

Me: “… nothing comes through the mail.”

Boy: “How do you make it come through?”

Me: “The Internet.”

Boy: “I can get Internet on my XBox?! I set up the wifi for Netflix, but I didn’t know it got actual Internet.”

Me: “Yeah, it’s crazy what you can do in 2014.”

Boy: “Can you explain this to my dad? He knows nothing about this stuff. Hey, dad, come here, this girl figured out that I have Internet on my XBox!”

(A man, maybe in his 40s, dressed all in camo with hunting boots and looking very scary comes up.)

Boy: “She just told me how to download things from the Internet for my XBox without mailing them.”

Man: “I don’t know how your mom will feel about that.”

(I had to repeat the entire conversation with the boy to his father and basically explain every technological advance related to Internet use. I kept looking for signs they were messing with me, but these people were just… Well… I drank a lot after that shift.)

Not A Well-Rounded Response

| Sweden | Crazy Requests

(I work as an HVAC tech, and am sent to a customer’s house to condemn his 25-year-old heat pump as ‘beyond repair.’ He phones up the dispatcher after receiving the bill.)

Customer: “So, I had a tech here a while ago and got the bill today and you’re billing me for a whole hour.”

Dispatcher: “Yes, that is our minimum fee for a call.”

Customer: “He was here fifteen minutes at most. I see no reason that I should pay for a whole hour!”

Dispatcher: “Well, fifteen minutes to drive from our company to your place, fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back. That makes forty-five minutes, and we round upwards so that’s still an hour.”

Customer: “What? That distance takes ten minutes, tops. I’ve driven between your company and here many times.”

Dispatcher: “So that’s still thirty-five minutes, and we still round upwards so that’s still an hour and our minimum fee is still for one hour.”

Customer: “That’s outrageous! When I had my own company I could never do that sort of thing.”

Dispatcher: “Well, you won’t get anywhere with me. I can transfer you to the owner if you like?”

Customer: “Yes, do exactly that!”

(The dispatcher puts him on hold, walks into the owner’s office, and gives him a quick run-down on the situation.)

Owner: “Hi, this is [Owner]. Is there some trouble?”

Customer: “Yeah, I had one of your techs at my house and it took him just fifteen minutes here and you’re billing me for a full hour!”

Owner: “Well, as [Dispatcher] told you our minimum fee is for one hour and we also round upwards to the nearest half hour, so the bill is completely correct.”

Customer: “That’s outrageous! I never did that when I had my company.”

Owner: “What kind of company did you have?”

Customer: “I was an estate agent.”

Owner: “An estate agent? The kind of person who drives around in brand new BMWs and Mercedes? Who bill you for just picking up the phone?”

Customer: “You’re the worst person I’ve spoken to in my entire life!” *click*

Only Generating Contempt

| UK | Bad Behavior, Crazy Requests, Extra Stupid, Technology

(I work for an IT company that provides 24 hour support for several big buildings. As you can imagine it gets very quiet at night with a lot of down time. The only problem is that the calls come from customers who, putting it kindly, don’t have social skills. I received a call around three am.)

Me: “Welcome to [Company] support desk. You are speaking to [My Name]. How can I help you this morning?”

Customer: “Hi, this is [Location]. None of our computers are working, our servers are all down, and our phone lines. Everything is down and we need it back up and running in the next ten minutes or I will be forced to have you fired.”

Me: *concerned and shocked* “How many computers are affected and how many phones are affected?”

Customer: “ALL OF THEM. About fifty computers and the same amount of phones are not working. You have nine and a half minutes to get it working.”

Me: *now disinterested* “How many people are working in the building right now?”

Customer: “There is me, two security guards, and a couple of men replacing the generators. That’s nine minutes.”

Me: “Sir, silly question but I have to ask this but has the power been turned off to the building by the engineers working on site?”

(The customer started breathing heavily down the phone, leaving the building and walking outside. I could hear the customer start shouting to the engineer to turn on the power while using a curse word every chance he could. I could hear in the distance the workmen stop what they were doing, obvious not liking being called offensive names, and start chasing after the man down the street. The man while out of breath asked for me to call the cops as his life was in danger. I hung up and went back to sleep.)

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