(I work at a sandwich shop where the employees make the subs right in front of you down an assembly line. It is the beginning of lunch before the lunch crowd rolls in, so there are no customers in the store yet. My coworker and I see two customers walk in, so we approach the bread station and greet them as we wash our hands.)

Me: “Hi! How are you today?”

(The customers nod at me but otherwise ignore us. I’ve finished washing my hands and I’m putting my gloves on at the bread station. The two customers are deeply involved in a conversation.)

Me: “Whenever you’re ready, I can grab your bread selection for you.”

(The customers don’t even acknowledge me, and continue their conversation. My coworker has her hands washed and joins me with her gloves on, and we both stand patiently at the counter while they are chatting loudly and animatedly, facing each other and not even looking at us. Every once in a while my coworker tries to catch their eyes and opens her mouth to speak but they continue to chat, waving their arms around and laughing. Suddenly, mid-sentence, one of the customers snaps his head at us and glares.)

Customer: “So, do you plan on taking our order or not? We’ve been waiting for five minutes already!”

Coworker: *gives me a side glance* “Yeah, sir, we’re ready when you are.”

(The following exchange happens to my coworker, but I am less than ten feet away and have no customers of my own, so I hear everything firsthand.)

Coworker: “Good morning. Can I help you?”

Customer: “Yes, I want you to explain something to me.” *pulls out bank statement* “You charged me an overdraft fee on my checking account, and I want it reversed. I’ve never had a zero balance. I’ve been close, but it’s never been zero.”

Coworker: “Let me take a look at this.”

Customer: “See here?” *points* “You charged me a $12.47 overdraft fee. It shouldn’t have happened. You transferred $500 out of my account on [date], when it should have been $400. I’m trying to balance my account, and I’m $100 short. You took my money, and I need it back.”

Coworker: “Well, first of all, the overdraft fee is $29.00, not $12.47. What you’re seeing here is an overdraft transfer. You are signed up for overdraft protection, so when your balance gets to zero, it pulls from your savings account. This is just taking $12.47 from your savings and putting it into your checking. We didn’t take any money from you.”

Customer: “Well, it shouldn’t have happened in the first place! What about the $100? Where did that go?”

Coworker: “Again, we didn’t take any money. The $500 was transferred from your checking to your savings, so it was always in one of your accounts.”

Customer: “But it was supposed to be $400, not $500! One of you screwed up!”

Coworker: “I can just transfer $100 back if you want. And… wait a minute… Let me look at this for a sec… This says the transfer was done online.”

Customer: “No, one of you did it.”

Coworker: “Ma’am, it shows right here. The transfer was done online through home banking. We don’t have any access to your account online, so there is no way we could have done anything.”

Me: *cutting in* “You should have received an email confirming the transfer. I know I get one every time I do a transfer online. And you can check your transaction history online, too.”

Customer: *realizing she made a mistake* “Oh… Maybe I did do that… Okay, yes, please transfer the $100 back into the account. Thanks. Bye.” *leaves*

Me: “And this is why we can’t do telephone transfers anymore…”

(In our province it is illegal to sell alcohol after 6:00 pm in any store.)

Customer: “Can you make this quick? I’m in a hurry.”

Me: “I will go as quickly as I can, sir.”

(As I’m going through the items I notice some alcohol; it is 6:30.)

Me: “Unfortunately, sir, due to the law, we are unable to sell beer through our system past 6:00 pm.”

Customer: “Well, this is just flipping amazing. Just bypass this law and let me have my beer.”

Me: “I am sincerely sorry, sir, but unfortunately the computer system will not allow me to bypass this law.”

Customer: “Fine!”

(He then proceeded to throw the case of beer on the floor, which exploded all over the place. He bolted out. All this over beer.)

(I work in the complaints section of a call centre for a very well-known supermarket chain.)

Me: “Hello, and thank you for calling [Supermarket Chain]. How may I help you?”

Male Caller: “Hey there, baby girl. I was wondering if you could help me—“

(CLICK. Don’t get that kind of call often in my type of call centre.)

(It’s our policy at our pet store to clip the wings and nails of the birds that go home. We are advocates of keeping bird wings clipped, as we receive so many calls of people who lost their birds because they were fully-flighted and flew right out the door. I’m working by myself and have a store full of people first thing in the morning while I’m trying to clean the cages. One woman is here to pick up two birds she bought over the weekend when I was not working. She’s rather strange and seems to think I should know who she is and what she’s here for without telling me. When I finally gather from her which birds she’s here for, I start to get them ready to go home. The birds are nervous because of the chaos in the store, so I take them into the office to clip them. As I’m finishing, the woman opens the office door.)

Customer: “What are you doing?”

Me: “I’m clipping their wings and nails.”

Customer: “Oh, well, don’t clip too much.”

(I’ve already clipped them, but we never clip enough for the birds to plummet to the floor when they try to take off, just enough so that they don’t fly around the room and smash into window or mirrors. In the craziness, one of them snagged its nail. It bled very little, but the nail is loose and will probably fall off. My boss tells me over the phone that if it seems like the bird needs to be seen by a vet to bring him down to the vet next door.)

Me: “I just wanted to let you know that the bird snagged its nail a bit. It’s not bleeding, but the nail will probably fall off. It doesn’t look all that damaged, though, and I’m sure it’s going to grow back. However, if you’re worried about it, I can bring him down to the vet next door.”

Customer: “No, I’ve got birds; it’s not a problem. I can handle it.”

(Since the woman doesn’t seem fazed by it and says she can handle it, I send the birds home with her. Later that afternoon, my boss suggests that I call her to be sure the bird was all right when it got home.)

Me: *on the phone with the woman* “I just wanted to be sure the little bird’s toe was all right and it hadn’t started bleeding.”

Customer: “Yes, it’s fine, but I’m very upset about that whole fiasco while I was there. I intend to talk to [Owner] about it.”

Me: “What fiasco?”

Customer: “I am an experienced bird owner, and I did not want my birds’ wings clipped.”

(The birds’ wings were actually already clipped before she bought them, and I just trimmed the very ends of them. Mind you, the feathers grow back in a short period of time.)

Me: “I’m very sorry, but that’s our policy when we send birds home.”

Customer: “It should have been discussed with me beforehand.”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry, but that is our policy. The owner will sometimes make exceptions, but no one told me that you didn’t want it done.”

Customer: “I’ll be talking to [Owner] about it.”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry for the confusion. I’m happy that the little bird’s toe is all right, though.”

Customer: “Yes, it’s fine.”

(After that conversation, I called my boss to give her a heads-up. She said the woman was ridiculous and that it was our policy to clip. I know I had nothing to worry about, as the owner is very good about backing up her employees, but I like to let her know when she should be expecting a crazy customer to phone her.)