(I work in the over-the-phone billing department for a cable provider. A woman calls in because her first name is spelled wrong on her bill. It usually takes a few minutes to fix, but because they passed a social security check with the misspelling, we have to ask a few questions to make sure that everything is correct and legal.)

Caller: “I did this two months ago, and it still isn’t fixed. It’s so discouraging to see how little this company cares about me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, that’s a little strange to hear it wasn’t fixed then. I care, and I will make it right.”

(I check the notes from when she previously called in. The representative who handled her said that they tried to place an order, but could not finish it because the call had dropped.)

Caller: “If this isn’t fixed, I will find another provider. It’s just lazy how little you care about your customers.”

Me: “No, I get it, I do. It’s frustrating to call in for the same thing multiple times, but this will be the last call. Now, back then, did they ask you any questions like your date of birth, or the last four digits of your social security number?”

Caller: “No, no, nothing like that. It’s just so lazy. Very, very lazy.”

Me: “I understand. I have the correct spelling put into the system now, but to get it to recognize it, I’ll need the answers to those questions. May we start with your date of birth?”

Caller: “It’s just so unprofessional. I’ll stand by my word that if this isn’t fixed by my next month’s bill, I will find a company who cares about me and isn’t lazy like you.”

Me: “And, as you should, but you have nothing to worry about. I do, however, need your date of birth to complete this.”

Caller: “I can’t believe how lazy you are.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. May I please have your date of birth?”

Caller: “So, you’ll have this all taken care of? Okay, if it’s not, I have your name and it will be your job. Bye.”

Me: “No, please do not hang up—”

(She did hang up on me. I tried reaching her at her home phone where it showed she was calling from, and her cell phone, but it was obvious she was rejecting the calls. I had to notate the account what had happened and that I tried calling her back, but in the end, no changes had been made to her account because I legally could not. I feel a little bad that I could not fix her problem like I promised, but I cannot help customers who do not allow me to.)

(It’s a quiet evening and I am the only staff member on the shop floor. I am a 19-year-old female. Two middle-aged male customers walk into the store. They browse for a bit and then bring a DVD and some snacks to the counter.)

Me: “Good evening. How are you both?”

Customer: “Hi. Just these, please.”

(The customer places the items on the desk, and I ring them through while making general conversation. The transaction goes normally, until this…)

Customer: “So, did it hurt when you got your nipples pierced?”

Me: “Um…”

(I have my nose, ears, and navel pierced, but no other piercings, so I am not sure how to reply to this.)

Customer: “Oh, my God… Nose! I meant, did it hurt when you got your nose pierced?!”

Me: *relieved and trying not to laugh* “Oh! Yes, it did a little, but it wasn’t too bad.”

(I finish the transaction, somehow managing not to dissolve into laughter, and the customers leave the store. At this point, I can no longer keep it in, and burst into laughter, just as my supervisor walks onto the shop floor. I explain to him what just took place.)

Supervisor: “He was probably just trying his hardest not to stare at your chest, and that ended up being a Freudian slip!”

(I work for a satellite TV company. I am at an elderly gentleman’s home. He has called in complaining of poor signal in even cloudy weather, loss of channels, and black bars on the screen. He was upsold to an HD-DVR upgrade since he had some of the original HD equipment. I re-point his dish, which was so far out of alignment I’m amazed he even had service, period, and which was the cause of all his problems. I install the new box and get everything programmed. It should be noted that the customer has stated that at his age he basically lives in his bedroom, where he has a 70″ big screen on the wall across his bed. After I get done explaining everything I have done both inside and out, he asks me to check a channel for him. He gives me a channel number, and the Info Banner pops up a moment before the picture and reads, “Granny’s First Big Black C**k.” Sure enough, that’s what shows up a second later. The customer walks up to the screen and puts his hands about eight inches apart on the bottom of the screen.)

Customer: “This is where that black bar used to show up. I’m paying for this big TV; I want to see all of it, not some of it. I was losing over a foot of picture. And sometimes on the sides, too.”

(I’m looking at the bed to ignore the p*rn on the screen.)

Me: “The black bars usually indicate that the program is not coming in HD, or that it is simply not an HD program. Your dish was pretty far out of alignment, so almost everything was coming in standard definition. That is all fixed now that I’ve re-pointed and tightened down your dish. You should only see those bars on programs broadcast standard now. You wouldn’t expect TV Land to be high-def.”

Customer: “I hope you’re right. I’m paying for this and I’m not going to be cheated. Where do I sign?”

(I immediately hit the previous channel button to get it back to regular programming and left as soon as I could.)

(I’ve just finished a very long shift at the convenience store I work at and forgot to pick up some bits before we closed. I go to a supermarket where their uniforms are similar to ours — green and black. I’m reading a label on some cat food down an aisle that is in view of the tills. However, my back is to the tills; my store’s logo is printed across the back of my jacket.)

Customer: “EXCUSE ME! I have been waiting at this till for ten minutes!”

Me: “Oh, I think there’s someone down the next aisle…”

Customer: “What?! How dare you?! I’m going to get you fired for this! I’ve been waiting and waiting; you need to come serve me now or your manager will hear about this!”

Me: “I don’t work here, you idiot.”

Customer: *literally screaming at this point* “HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT! WHERE’S YOUR MANAGER NOW?!”

(The employee down the next aisle is now trying to come to my aid, but the customer won’t listen.)

Me: “Probably at home, considering we finished twenty minutes ago! I don’t work here; look!” *turns so she can see my back* “I work at [My Store] and you’re in [This Store]! I have just done a ten-hour shift dealing with idiots like you. I am tired and hungry, so don’t start shouting at me because you’re a dumba** who can’t read the back of a jacket!”

(I stormed off after that to continue with my shopping. When I got to the till, the employee told me that the lady had demanded to see the manager, told him what happened, and demanded I was fired. The manager felt so sorry for me he told the employee to let me pick out a chocolate bar for free.)

(I’m waiting in line at a bookstore that has recently started charging 20 cents for plastic bags. The customer in front me is a lady in her 60s.)

Customer: *rants about the store charging for plastic bags* “I think the store should at least offer paper bags as an alternative, free of charge.”

Cashier: “It’s all about protecting the environment, and the impact of paper bags on the environment is comparable to the one plastic bags have.”

Customer: “What’s this world coming to? It all boils down to, ‘If you want to save the planet, kill yourself.’”

Cashier: “Well, do you want a bag or not?”

Customer: “Sure.”

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