Very Closed Minded

| Bastrop, TX, USA | Extra Stupid, Holidays

(The store that this takes place in is open 24/7 and is only closed for Christmas Day. One night, around 9:30, a customer calls the store and I answer it.)

Me: ”[Location] [Store] customer service. This is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yes, I was calling to ask when you close tonight.”

Me: “Customer service or the store?”

Customer: “The store.”

Me: “The store stays open 24 hours, ma’am.”

Customer: “No, no, no. When does the store close?”

Me: “It doesn’t. It stays open 24/7.”

Customer: *sounding annoyed* “NO! I’m not asking when it is open I want to know when it CLOSES!”

Me: “Ma’am, the next time we’ll close, excluding things beyond our control, will be 8 pm on Christmas Eve.”

(After hearing that, the customer starts to yell into the phone.)

Customer: “I DON’T GIVE A F*** WHEN IT CLOSES CHRISTMAS EVE! I WANT TO KNOW WHEN IT CLOSES TONIGHT!”

Me: *wincing and pulling the headset from my ear as a pair of customers approach the counter* “Ma’am, please don’t yell. I am attempting to tell you that the store does not close.”

Customer: “NO, YOU ARE JUST F****** TELLING WHEN IT F******* CLOSES ON GODD*** CHRISTMAS EVE, WHEN IT’S JUST APPROACHING EASTER!”

Me: “Listen, ma’am, the store DOES NOT CLOSE UNTIL THEN!”

Customer: “BULL-F******-S***! YOU’RE NOT TELLING ME YOU CLOSE BECAUSE YOU WANT ME TO WASTE MY FUCKING GAS GETTING OVER THERE ONLY TO HAVE YOU SHOO ME AWAY!”

Me: “Listen, if you cannot understand that WE DO NOT, I REPEAT, NOT CLOSE, then I don’t know what to tell you.” *click*

(I turn to the two customers who’ve been waiting at the counter.)

Me: “Sorry about that. How can I help you?”

In-Store Customer: *chuckling* “So, when do you close?”

No ID, No Idea, Part 15

| Salem, NH, USA | At The Checkout, Criminal & Illegal

(The store I work at sells chocolate liqueurs. Because they are alcoholic, I cannot sell them to anyone who doesn’t have an ID on them. A couple of young women come up, and seeing the liqueurs by the register, put a couple in with their purchase.)

Me: “I’ll need to see some ID for those.”

Customer: “Oh, I left my ID in the car.”

Me: “I can hold onto your stuff while you go get it.”

Customer: “I don’t want to go all the way to my car and back!”

Me: *moving the liqueurs aside* “All right. I’ll just put those back, then.”

Customer: “But, I want them.”

Me: “I’ll need to see your ID.”

Customer: “It’s in the car!”

Me: “I can hold your stuff for you while you go get it.”

Customer: “Look, I LOOK old enough to drink, don’t I?”

Me: “Yes…”

(Smiling, the woman nudges the liqueurs back into her pile of stuff. I promptly nudge them back out.)

Me: “My underage sister LOOKS old enough, as well.”

Customer: “But I want those!”

Me: “I’ll need to see your ID.”

Customer: “It’s in the CAR!”

Related:
No ID, No Idea, Part 14
No ID, No Idea, Part 13
No ID, No Idea, Part 12

The High Point Of My Night

, | Canada | At The Checkout, Criminal & Illegal, Food & Drink

(I work as a cashier and am finally at the end of a long, frustrating split-shift. About 10 minutes to closing a group of guys in their early 20s come in and head straight for the confection aisle. They seem to be having a hard time deciding, and become panicked when my supervisor makes the closing announcement. They shove their candy, chips, and pop into the arms of one guy, and push him toward the cash. They leave the store, leaving their friend to pay. He places the items very slowly on the counter, blinking with confusion a number of times, swaying a little on his feet. I ring his items through.)

Me: “That’s $14.59. How will you be paying?”

Customer: “Uh… debit?”

(He slowly pulls out his wallet and fumbles for his card. He finally places it in the debit machine, and then stares at it, unmoving. The machine times-out, so I reset it. He manages, with some difficulty to make it through the rest of the transaction. When I place his bag in front of him, he looks confused.)

Customer: “Is this mine?”

Me: “Yes, it is.”

Customer: “These are the things I bought?”

Me: “Uh… yes. Are you all right?”

Customer: “Huh? Oh, yeah, don’t mind me, I’m just really fried.”

(He pulls a 2 dollar coin out of his pocket and puts it on the counter.)

Customer: “Don’t tell; my parents know the owner.”

(He left, marveling at the automatic doors as he did. He has been back to the store a number of times, in the same state, and makes my day whenever he shows up.)

Please Keep Both Hands On The Wheel(chair)

| Dallas, TX, USA | Awesome Customers, Awesome Workers, Health & Body, Top, Transportation

(I’ve been in a wheelchair for several years and am still pretty independent. Unfortunately there are times the chair can be a real pain. I broke down on the interstate on my daily commute and do not have a cell phone. As a result I am wheeling myself down the I-35 shoulder headed to the closest gas station when a DPS unit pulls up behind me. I was very tired since the shoulder of an interstate is not the easiest surface for me to go long distances. When I see the cop something just reminds me of a routine traffic stop, which I find hilarious.)

Me: “Don’t bother asking for my license or proof of insurance for my chair, as I have neither.”

(The cop looked confused for a second, and then burst out laughing.)

Summer Starts Earlier Every Year

| MD, USA | Bad Behavior, Family & Kids

(I am a counselor at a summer camp. A parent asks me this as she is dropping her son off on the first day.)

Mother: “Camp starts at 9 am, right?”

Me: “Yes, that’s correct.”

Mother: “So when is the earliest I can drop him off?”

(This is a reasonable question, as some camps in the same building provide before-care options. Ours, however, does not.)

Me: “8:55? We always start with some casual games that the kids can join as they arrive, so there’s no need to worry about him missing anything.”

Mother: “But I need to drop him off, and his sister at her camp, and then I have to get to work. So I really need to drop him off earlier. His sister’s camp doesn’t have before-care so I need to drop her off second.”

Me: “I’m sorry; we don’t have before-care either.”

Mother: “But you must get here before 9.”

Me: “Well… we do get here earlier but we have setup to do.”

Mother: “I’ll just drop him off when you get here then.”

Me: “We really can’t be responsible for the children outside of camp hours.”

Mother: “He won’t bother you.”

Me: “Please do not bring him before 9.”

Mother: “Okay, see you at 8:30!” *walks away*

Me: “No… please don’t!”

(I got there at 8:20 the next morning and found the child sitting in the hallway outside the locked room!)

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