Customer: “I’m here for my 2:00 pm appointment for an oil change.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. When you’re finished, your total will be $28.16.”

Customer: “Can I add a note?”

Me: “Of course.”

Customer: “Can you ask them not to put the windows down? They won’t go back up. I left the sunroof open for access.”

Me: “I apologize, but access to what?”

Customer: “Just don’t put my windows down.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, but I’m not understanding the sunroof?”

Customer: *Grinning like I’m an idiot* “Thank you!”

Me: *Genuinely confused* “Ma’am, I understand not to put the windows down, but I don’t understand why we would need access through the sunroof. Is there an issue with the doors?”

Customer: *Same grin* “Thank you!” *Pauses* “Thank you!” *Pauses* “Thank you!”

Me: “All right, then.”

I then walk into the bay, because surely the tech knows something I don’t.

Tech: “She means that if we lock the keys in the car, we can get in through the sunroof, which ain’t happening, ‘cause I’m not climbing in through a sunroof.”

Me: “Why didn’t she just say that instead of acting like a dumba** about it?!”

Tech: *Shrugs*

I work at a tire shop, where we also do a few other maintenance packages, such as brakes. I see an online appointment pop up for a wheel balance. The only thing listed on the appointment is just a balance; no rotate or any other comments listed. I accept it and wait for the customer to arrive.

Customer: “I’m here for my online appointment.”

Me: “Okay, I see you’re in for a balance.”

I ask a few general questions, such as why he believes his wheels are out of balance — any shaking at high speeds, shaking in the steering wheel, etc.

Customer: “I’ve got some shaking. I think a balance will fix it, so just the balance today.”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

My tech takes the wheels off to balance them but notices that the customer’s rear brakes are metal to metal. There is literally no pad left to them, which has also caused damage to the rotors.

Me: “So, we balanced out your tires, but your rear brakes and rotors are shot. There’s no pad left, and they’ve caused damage to the rotors, as well. At this point, we are recommending rear pads and rotors for this vehicle.”

Customer: “Oh, we’re getting ready to go on a road trip. I can’t afford to put brakes on at this time.”

Me: “That’s okay, but I would highly advise not using this vehicle for your trip, for safety reasons.”

Customer: “Okay.”

The customer pays for the balance and leaves. A few minutes go by and the customer returns with his wife.

Customer’s Wife: “Why didn’t you guys rotate my tires?!”

Me: “My apologies. I wasn’t made aware that you requested a rotation.”

I double-check the online appointment just to make sure.

Me: “No, ma’am, nothing was mentioned on the online booking that you requested a rotation, and your husband confirmed that we were just doing a wheel balance.”

Customer’s Wife: “I have a coupon!”

Me: “That’s fine, ma’am. If you hand me your keys, I will have my tech pull it back in and rotate the tires for you at no charge.”

Customer’s Wife: “Why didn’t you use my coupon?!”

Me: “I wasn’t aware you had a coupon; your husband never mentioned it. But no worries, we can go ahead and still do the rotate for you.”

Customer’s Wife: “This is unbelievable!”

She storms out. The husband and I stand there for a few moments.

Me: “So, you gonna tell her about the rear brakes, or would you like me to?”

They both left without a free rotate. The next day, they left two negative reviews for my store. Guess you just can’t please everyone.

I’m a pizza delivery driver on my way to a marina where the customer lives on their boat along with several others that are all docked there. My instructions state that I have to call the customer when I get there to be directed to their particular boat. It’s about 8:30 and night has fully set.

I am on the phone with the customer.

Me: “Hello, sir. I’ve arrived at the marina and am calling to find out which boat you’re at. I’m currently in front of the bar at the end of the dock.”

Customer: “All right, you’ll have to cross the railroad bridge to get to us.”

Me: “A… railroad bridge?”

Obviously, continuing down the dock wouldn’t lead to any kind of “railroad” bridge, so I ask the customer if he can direct me from the bar. At this time, a man exits the bar to smoke a cigarette.

Smoking Man: “Oh, hey, pizza. Who’s it for?”

Since people on the docks tend to all know each other, I show him the name on the ticket while speaking with the customer.

Customer: “Just go to the railroad bridge and cross it and I’ll be just past it.”

Me: “Sir, it’s dark out. I don’t see any kind of railroad bridge. Could you please tell me what direction I need to go from this bar on the edge of the dock?”

Smoking Man: “Railroad bridge? Sure you’re in the right place?”

The customer insists that there’s a bridge once more and hears the man next to me over the phone.

Customer: “Hey, is there someone else there?”

Me: “Yes, he seems to be just as confused as I am about where this bridge is supposed to be.”

Customer: “Hey. Ask him if he’s ‘Herman Munster.’”

About a minute passes of me trying to get the customer to get back on track so I can get his food to him, but he insists I ask the man next to me if he’s “Herman Munster,” a name I know belongs to an old TV show character.

Me: *Giving up* “They want me to ask if you’re Herman Munster.”

At this point, the Smoking Man and the customer laugh, and the customer hangs up. Figuring I’ve been conned into a prank order, I begin to leave.

Smoking Man: “So, do you know where to go now?”

Me: “No. They hung up on me just now, so it’s likely this was a prank. Just gotta take these pizzas back.”

Smoking Man: “Hang on a second. I’m sure some of the guys inside would want some pizza.”

He goes inside, and a woman is sent out to keep me company while he searches for money. I keep a look out for anyone that may be coming or signaling to me to bring them their pizzas. About five minutes pass and the man returns with $40 to pay the $27 bill and tells me to keep the change. After I’ve left and gone down the road, my phone rings and I answer.

Customer: “Hey, where are you at with our pizza?”

Me: *In disbelief* “Sir, I left. You laughed at my expense and hung up on me. I thought you were pulling a prank on me. And even if I turned around now, I found someone that wanted to buy those pizzas from me.”

Customer: *Angrily* “YOU SOLD OUR PIZZAS?! Why would you think we were pranking you?”

Me: “Sir, your directions made no sense, you insisted I ask a stranger if he was ‘Herman Munster,’ and you laughed at me and hung up. What part of that sounds like it would be a legitimate order?”

Customer: “My wife and I are very hungry. We want our food!”

Me: “Sir, if you’d like, you can call the store and replace the order and they’ll have no problem rushing it back out to you.”

The customer hangs up before I can finish. When I return to work, my manager wants to hear my side, apparently believing that I sold the pizzas to someone else IN FRONT OF THE CUSTOMER.

Me: “One, if they had seen me, they could have claimed their pizza. Two, they goofed off on the phone with me, laughed at me, and hung up on me. To me, that says they were screwing with me.”

My shift manager called the owner and explained to him what she was told by both the customer and myself. In the end, it turns out that our boss agreed with my decision, and since the customer was still getting their order remade at full price, there was really no harm done. There’s now a memo in the works outlining the protocol for such situations. I walked away with a $13 tip and was given a pat on the back for saving the store money, another driver made the delivery, and hopefully, the customer learned a valuable lesson in phone etiquette when speaking to a person that’s trying to give them something.

I’m a receptionist at a day spa and salon. Answering phones is my main job. Here is a little lovely that I got.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Salon and Spa]; how may I help you?”

Caller: “REPRESENTATIVE!”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Caller: “REP-RE-SENT-A-TIVE!”

Me: “Ma’am?”

Caller: “REPRESENTATIVE!”

Me: “MA’AM!”

Caller: “AUTOMOTIVE DEPARTMENT!”

Me: “MA’AM! This is a hair salon.”

Caller: “This isn’t Jerry’s Automotive?”

Me: “No.”

Caller: *Click*

I am an Esthetician — skin therapist — at a spa. When I am not performing facials on clients, I manage the front desk and do minor marketing for the spa and salon. Today, I receive the oddest and most difficult of calls to date.

Caller: “My daughter got her hair dyed about a month ago. Since then it has faded. I’ve texted the stylist multiple times regarding the appointment and how to rebook, but no one called me.”

I scroll through the computer to find the woman’s daughter’s history.

Me: “Ma’am, according to our records, we have called you three times to rebook and never received a call back.”

Caller: “What?! I do not understand. I never received a call.”

Me: “Ma’am, the number we have on record is [number]; is this correct?”

Caller: “THAT’S MY DAUGHTER’S NUMBER!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, now that I do have you on the phone and I do have some time I’ll be more than happy to assist you in booking the appointment.”

Caller: “No, no, no, no, no. I want to book with the stylist that did my daughter’s hair. And I need to know if I have to pay anything; the color faded so I shouldn’t have to pay anything.”

Me: “Ma’am, I will book you with that stylist. According to our records, your daughter was in here more than five weeks ago; typically color appointments should be booked every five to six weeks.”

Caller: “No. This is my daughter. She is a child. It shouldn’t have faded.”

Me: “Ma’am, I understand.”

Caller: “I want an appointment in which I won’t have to pay anything!”

Me: “Ma’am, the best I can do is just have you pop in with your daughter to see if the stylist can look at her hair and give you a price point.”

Caller: “Ugh, fine!” 

I booked the free consultation appointment and finally got off the phone with the woman who was insistent on not paying a dime for an appointment that was obviously needed.

About an hour later, I reported the client to our salon manager, who told me to call the woman back and rebook her yet again but on a day when a senior stylist was also present to enforce the needed payment.

I long for the days when answering the phone will no longer be my job. The woman’s daughter wanted bright red hair; red fades the fastest. We told her this and encouraged her to rebook every five weeks.