(Recently I gave the worst customer service I’ve ever given. Deliberately. I’m the Dairy Manager in a grocery store. I did work in dry grocery for around three years, and normally if a customer asks me a question about another department, I try to help them, or find someone that can. After stocking yogurt and sour cream, I’m heading into the back room with my empty cart when I hear a whistle. Not thinking anything of it, I keep walking. I hear the whistle again, followed by “HEY!” I turn around, and a customer is whistling at me like I’m a DOG and snapping his fingers at me.)

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “What’s the price on these hams?”

Me: “I have no idea. I’m the Dairy Manager.”

(Turned on my heel, went into the back room, ran into my boss, and told him what I’d done. He laughed. Cool boss.)

(I have recently taken in a stray cat from the woods to take care of as my own. Since he needs to be vaccinated, my mother calls the vet’s office to schedule an appointment. Near the end of the call, while they are getting his information down:)

Receptionist: “Okay, so you’re scheduling an appointment for Ginger, correct?”

Mom: “That’s right!”

Receptionist: “What color is he?”

(There is a brief moment of silence before my mother continues.)

Mom: “Um, rust-orange. He’s an orange tabby.”

(Sometime the night before, an opossum got into the power box in our center and was electrocuted, causing power to go our building and others. We usually open at eight am. Our bosses texted the employees not to come in until nine am. When I came in at nine am there is an email from a customer saying he tried to call at eight am. I call him back immediately:)

Me: “Hello, I’m sorry you couldn’t get through this morning. We had a power outage.”

Customer: “Not answering the phone was unprofessional. You told me you would be there at eight am. I called; you didn’t answer.”

Me: “Yes, I understand. An opossum got into the power box, was electrocuted, and knocked out all the power.”

Customer: “Well, that was unprofessional of him!”

(Realizing the customer is not listening at all.)

Me: “You are completely correct. I assure the individual responsible was fired.”

(Or, should I say… fried)

(I am working at a major breakfast chain as a waiter on the night shift. One of my coworkers is a diabetic, and I have a history of hypoglycemic episodes. Thankfully, [Diabetic] knows the signs. This occurs on a prom night, after I’ve just spent two and a half hours running food and drinks to a group of 35.)

Diabetic: “[My Name], you’re getting derpy. First time I’ve seen you get a drink wrong in months!”

Me: “I’m fine.”

Diabetic: “No, you’re not fine.” *calling out louder* “[Manager], get over here and make [My Name] go sit down! He’s derping out!”

Me: “I’m not derping out!”

Manager: “His girlfriend’s over there; get his kit from her.”

Me: “I’m not derping out; [Diabetic]’s derping out! She just brought that short stack to the wrong table!”

([Manager] grabs both of us by the ears, drags us to the break room, and makes us test our blood sugar. Diabetic’s meter shows 300, mine shows 20.)

Manager: “Okay, you!” *points at [Diabetic]* “Insulin, now. You!” *points at me* “Pancakes, now. And when you’re done eating, give her half your pancreas!”

This story is part of our Diabetes roundup!

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(I am working my second day as a cashier when an elderly customer walks up with a bundle of bananas and a drink.)

Me: “Hello, sir, and welcome to [Store]. Would you like me to match the price of these bananas, dear?”

Customer #1: “No, godd*** it!”

Me: “Okay. Not a problem. I apologize. Would you like to donate anything to [Charity We Support]? ”

Customer #1: *turns away and mutters something*

Me: “Was that a yes or…”

Customer #1: “READ MY LIPS. NO. N. O. CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND SIMPLE ENGLISH, YOU D*** BIMBO?!”

Me: *all smiles* “I’m so sorry, sir. Not a problem.”

Customer #1: “I am so f****** tired of your s***, you little b****! The people here are so godd*** stupid. Quit smiling. Your job f****** sucks.”

(He walks off cursing under his breath.)

Me: *turning to the next customer* “Hello, dear. How ar—”

Customer #1: *rushing back* “And don’t call people ‘dear,’ you little tramp! I’m old enough to be your d*** grandfather and she’s a woman, you f****** lesbian!”

(At this point, I’m almost in tears because it’s my second day ever and I’ve had nothing but positive responses all day. My current customer speaks up.)

Customer #2: “Don’t listen to that old b*****d, honey. You’re doing great and can call me whatever you like. Now, how much can I donate to that charity you were askin’ about?”

This story is part of our Customers Who Dislike Charity roundup!

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