Me: “Good Afternoon, you’re speaking to [My Name]. Can I take your reference number, please?”

Customer: “Hi, I’m calling from Toronto.”

Me: “Okay, how can I help?”

Customer: “Well, I’ve seen [alarm product that we don’t stock] being advertised and I want to know if you could sell me one?”

Me: “I can look into it for you. Are you looking to install this into a property in the UK?”

Customer: “No, of course not! I told you I’m in Toronto. Why ever would you think that?”

Me: “Well, ma’am, you have called a company based in the UK, so the systems we sell are set to UK settings.”

Customer: “Well, I know that.”

Me: “So, then you’d be aware that even if we did sell you a system, it wouldn’t work in your property?”

Customer: “Of course it would! We’re a part of the British Commonwealth!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, it definitely wouldn’t work, as it needs connection to a power outlet, and the outlets in Canada are different to the ones here in Britain. Also, even if we were to look into selling you a system, regulations state we need to get a trained engineer to install it for you, and none of our engineers would be able travel to Canada from the UK to install it.”

Customer: “Well, what am I supposed to do?”

Me: “I’d recommend contacting a supplier in Toronto.”

Customer: “You’ve just lost thousands of dollars!” *slams phone down*

Related:
O, Canaduh, Part 9
O, Canaduh, Part 8
O, Canaduh, Part 7
O, Canaduh, Part 6

Coworker: “Uh-oh, she’s here.”

(One of our regulars has pulled into the drive-thru. This woman is from the rich part of town, and is notoriously difficult.)

Me: “I’m on it.”

(I begin preparing her regular: a small mocha, with four large creams, more hot chocolate than coffee, no whipped cream, and splenda on the side. She also orders a wheat bagel, triple toasted, with double butter. Yes, the whole order is disgusting. The customer places her order and pulls around.)

Coworker: *opening window* “That’ll be $4.55.”

Customer: “Fine. I hope you did it right this time. Last time it was completely disgusting. I don’t know who you have in there, but they have no idea what they’re doing.”

Coworker: “Don’t worry; we have our best employee on it. She always gets it right.”

(This is stretching it, because no one ever gets it right for this woman. She’s one of those people who isn’t happy unless she can send something back. I hand over the food and drink to my coworker. He slips the splenda into a bag with extra napkins and a stir stick and hands everything out to her. When he holds the drink to her, she refuses to touch it.)

Coworker: “Your drink, ma’am?”

Customer: “Excuse me? I’m not touching it like that. I want it double cupped and with a sleeve. I’m not burning my hand.”

(Somehow, my coworker manages to keep a straight face, despite the fact that her drink is cool to the touch because she ordered her SMALL drink with THREE LARGE creams. I silently hand him an extra cup and sleeve, both of which are new additions to her regular order.)

Coworker: “Here you go! I’m sorry about that! Have a nice day!”

(He closes the window and helps start on the next order. We’re all feeling anxious as we watch the timer tick up as the woman roots through her order, refusing to drive away until she’s checked everything. She opens the bag with the splenda and the begins rapping on the window.)

Coworker: “Is there a problem?”

Customer: *screaming* “I ONLY WANTED TWO SPLENDA!”

(She throws the extra splenda and the napkins at him through the window. We’re all stunned. She then sits there and pours the TWO splenda packets into her drink, mixes it, and slowly sips it.)

Customer: “UGH. This is disgusting.”

Coworker: “We can remake it for you, if you want—”

Customer: “No, I think you’ve wasted enough of my time!”

(She peels off. In total, she sat at our drive-thru window for five minutes during our rush. She, of course, came back everyday for her “disgusting” drink.)

(An artistic, elaborately dressed woman wanders in and is standing by the paint samples in a melodramatic stance. I wander over.)

Me: “Can I help you?”

Customer: *gives me a withering look and says* “I’m looking for Bittersweet.”

Me: “That doesn’t sound like one of our colors, but I can look it up in the database and see if we can match it.”

Customer: “No… I’m looking for a color that invokes the feeling of bittersweet.”

(I stand dumbfounded for a second.)

Me: “So… is that like an orange or something?”

(I work in a small soap company, dealing with all-natural products and ingredients. As such, we get a lot of eccentric customers, including hippies and high-end “nose in the air” customers. A customer walks into the store and immediately starts browsing the unscented lotions.)

Me: “Hello! How are you today?”

Customer: “I’m great, thanks. I was wondering which one of these lotions are the most recent ones.”

Me: “The batch numbers are all on the bottom; the newer numbers relative to today’s date will be the newer ones.”

Customer: “Can you find me the newest one?”

(I proceed to find the ‘newest’ bottle of lotion to her, which was made a couple months prior. I tell her the date and she’s clearly wary about this.)

Customer: “That’s not very recent.”

Me: “Well, all of our products have to be shipped from another province, and they also have to sit for a while at the workshop to cure.”

Customer: “Oh, okay. I’ll grab this then.”

(The customer takes the unscented lotion to the counter and asks about our return policy.)

Me: “Our return policy covers anything, whether you don’t like it, or just don’t want it anymore.”

Customer: “Oh great, I’ll grab all these other things, then.”

(The customer begins to pile things on the counter without even looking at them.)

Me: “Are you sure you don’t want to try them out first?”

Customer: “Oh, that’s okay! I’ll probably end up returning them all anyways.”

(This lady is a regular, and does, indeed, end up returning almost everything she buys.)

(I’m sure most of you have heard about Hurricane Sandy and the devastation it wreaked upon New York. Our store faced severe damage and was nearly completely destroyed. A couple of days after Sandy left the city I went back in to assess the damage and begin business continuity operations. I was searching through the rubble to find anything salvageable when amazingly, the phone began to ring.)

Me: “Um, hello.”

Customer: “Hi, is this [Music Store]?”

Me: “Yes, yes it is.”

Customer: “Why haven’t you guys sent me the record I ordered yet? It was supposed to be here three days ago. I’ve been ringing and ringing.”

Me: *confused* “Umm…”

Customer: *angry* “DON’T GIVE ME THAT ATTITUDE! I DEMAND THAT YOU BRING ME THE RECORD IN PERSON! TODAY!”

Me: “Sir, you are aware that the city has just been hit with one of the worst hurricanes in recorded history?”

Customer: “THAT’S YOUR PROBLEM, NOT MINE. I DEMAND MY RECORD AND I’LL BE COMPLAINING TO YOUR SUPERVISOR FOR YOUR TERRIBLE CUSTOMER SERVICE.”

Me: “I’d be glad to give you your record once we have our business running again. Unfortunately we are presently unable to trade. I will contact you as soon as we are available for business once more.”

Customer: “I’M GETTING MY RECORD TODAY EVEN IF I HAVE TO COME AND SMASH DOWN YOUR DOOR AND TAKE IT FROM YOU!”

Me: “Go right ahead. We have no door. We’ve got about half a wall too. You’re welcome to come and search the rubble with me.” *click*