(It is the day after Christmas. When customers have a faulty item, we send them to technical support, but we are supposed to ask what is wrong first in case it is a quick fix or a question about how the item works. A furious, middle-aged woman comes into the store and makes a beeline for me at the camera counter. She has a box of one of our entry-level cameras. These cost under $100. I assume she is unhappy with the speed, as they take a few seconds to save the image to the card.)

Customer: “This is outrageous! I demand a refund! You have ruined Christmas!”

Me: “I’m sorry; that’s not good at all. What’s happened?”

Customer: “We bought this camera and it is faulty! I couldn’t believe it when it was opened. Its screen is broken! Christmas was ruined! I was so embarrassed!”

Me: *thinking it is an LCD screen issue* “May I please look at it?”

(She half-throws it at me and I open it to check the parts are all there. When we exchange an item or book it in to be fixed, we must check that A) it’s there, B) it is the same item as the box, and C) it is broken. All I plan to do is have a look and then walk her over to the technical support when…)

Me: *very carefully peels off the camera’s screen protector*

(The customer goes WHITE with silent rage and then snatches it off me, stuffing it back in the box and exploding with:)

Customer: “I am never shopping here again!”

(Then, she grabbed her nonplussed husband on her way out — he’d been wandering around looking at things — and dragged him out of the store. It was one of those moments when I honestly had no idea how I could have acted without making her feel hideously embarrassed. I guess it pays to check you’ve removed all the packaging before using a new item!)

(I’ve been asked to cover for a coworker who has been chosen as a juror on a high-profile trial that could last for weeks. She rings in on the second day to say that she will be back to work on the next day.)

Me: “I thought the trial was supposed to be a big one; is it over already?”

Coworker: “No, I was dismissed yesterday. It was so embarrassing.”

Me: “What happened?”

Coworker: “The judge called me up in front of the whole courtroom and gave me a lecture for inappropriate behaviour in public for a juror. The whole courtroom was sniggering at me.”

Me: “What did you do that was so wrong?”

Coworker: “On the first day, [Fiance] came to pick me up outside the courthouse after work, and he gave me a kiss.”

Me: “What’s wrong with that?”

Coworker: “He was dressed in his police uniform; apparently that means I’m a security risk.”

Me: “You didn’t want to be there, anyway.”

Coworker: “Yeah, I know, but it was embarrassing.”

Me: “If I’m ever called up, can I borrow him?”

Coworker: “Sure. Just make sure it’s during the jury selection; you don’t want to be called up in court.”

(It’s Christmas Eve and the supermarket where I’m shopping is packed. I’ve done my best to get around and not lose my temper and have managed to get almost everything I need. I line up at the checkout, not necessarily at the shortest queue but the easiest to get to, given how packed it is. Shortly, a lady lines up behind me. At this point, I am sick of people, the queue, Christmas, and everything. I hate stupid questions. Sarcasm mode kicks in.)

Lady: “What are we lining up for? I just want to get out!”

Me: “We’re lining up for a really exciting roller coaster!”

My mother related this story to me. It happened during the early days of video players, when the cost was quite high. A customer buys a VCR, explaining to the sales assistant that it’s a gift for someone. Less than fifteen minutes later he returns to the store, explaining that he got to the car only to find his companion had bought the same thing from another store in the mall.

The carton is unopened, so the sales assistant gives him his money back and leaves the VCR at the counter to return to stock later on. Less than ten minutes later, another customer sees it and buys it.

An hour later, that customer is back to complain that there is no VCR in the box; it has been replaced with a brick. When they examine the box they find that the tape on the bottom of the carton has been cut and the box has been re-taped over the top with identical packaging tape.

(It’s the week before Christmas and our neighbour from across the road has just come over. We’ve lived in our current home for over 15 years.)

Neighbour: “Here you go, as always.”

(He hands my dad a card, marked with our neighbour’s address but my dad’s name.)

Dad: *sighs* “Thanks, mate.”

Me: “Who’s that from?”

Dad: “My cousin. Always sends their Christmas card to number two.”

(We’re number one and have been the entire time we’ve lived here.)

Me: “But we’ve lived here for over a decade.”

Mum: “I know. But they never seem to take the hint from the return address on the envelope.”

(This year, Mum’s writing our address in the card! See if that breaks the fifteen-year streak.)