Customer: “What’s in your liquid drinks?”
Me: “Uh, ma’am, all of our drinks are made of liquid. That’s what makes them drinkable.”
Customer: “Oh, you know what I mean!”
Me: “No, ma’am, I do not.”
Customer: “Fine, I’ll find someone that does!” *leaves*
(I work at an amusement park in Southern California. A customer comes up to me while I am cleaning a shop.)
Customer: “Where can I find a [cartoon character] blow-up doll?”
Me: “Excuse me, sir?”
Customer: “Blow-up doll. I need a [cartoon character] blow-up doll!”
Me: “I um, we don’t sell those kinds of items–”
Customer: “You know, you put air in and it goes up!”
Me: “A balloon?”
Customer: “A blow-up doll, yes! Where?!”
(I work in a supermarket with a reputation for having an upper middle-class customer base. It is a very, very busy Saturday and I’m trying to run people through as quickly as possible. Note I’m underage and can’t sell alcohol without the permission of a supervisor.)
Me: “I’ll just page someone of age to ring the wine through. Is it okay for me to do everything else first?”
Customer: “Whatever, just get on with it.”
(I start ringing everything else through, watching out for my supervisors. All of them are busy dealing with other customers and situations.)
Customer: “Do the wine now.”
Me: “Madam, I can scan it, but I can’t allow you to pay for it until it’s been run through by my supervisor.”
Customer: “Why the h*** not? Just run it through!”
Me: “I’m seventeen, madam. It’s against the law for me to buy or sell alcohol and I don’t have the option to bypass the supervisor authorization even if I wanted to.”
Customer: “So you don’t want to?”
Me: “I’m sorry?”
Customer: “You don’t want to get someone to do it, do you?”
Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand–”
(Before I know it, the woman has turned around and stormed up to another employee, who isn’t from the section and is also underage.)
Customer: “There you are! I’ve been waiting forever for someone to do this alcohol because that girl won’t do it! Now, get over here and do it!”
Coworker: “Madam, I’m not from this section. I’m just collecting trolleys. I can’t process your alcohol.”
(The customer storms around the checkouts hunting for someone else, as I sit mortified at my till. Eventually, she finds one of the supervisors. After a barrage of anger, her alcohol is processed.)
(A female customer is looking at the perfume display.)
Customer: “Excuse me, it says that this smaller bottle of [brand] perfume is the same price as this larger bottle of [brand] perfume. But they are the same product.”
Me: “Actually, this larger one is men’s cologne and this smaller one is women’s perfume.”
Customer: “No, no, they’re both for women. You’re looking at the wrong one.”
Me: “No, ma’am, if you look right here, this larger one says ‘por homme’ on it. That means ‘for men’.”
Customer: “No, they’re both for women. See how this one is light blue? That means for girls.”
Me: *giving up* “My mistake, ma’am.”
(On the bright side, the next time she came in, she smelled like a man.)
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(Two obviously gay men are ordering concessions. I successfully upsell their purchase to a large popcorn.)
Customer: *jokingly* “Wow you’re quite a salesman!”
Coworker: “Yeah, he can sell stink to a hobo!”
Customer: *laughs*
Customer’s Partner: *completely mortified*
Customer: *to his partner* “No, no, he said HOBO!”
