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Life Before Google Street Views

, , , , | Right | July 3, 2008

(I work in an insurance agency in the middle of a downtown shopping district. A customer called and asked to be transferred to the agent with the desk by the window.)

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name] speaking. Can I get your last name, please?”

Customer: “It’s Clark, but what do you need that for?”

Me: “Well, each agent deals with a different segment of the alphabet, so clients with last names beginning with A-H go to Joan. I will need to transfer you.”

Customer: “Does Joan have a desk by the window?”

Me: “Uh… no, ma’am, but she will have all of your files. If you can hold for a moment, I will transfer you.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t want to talk to Joan. I want to talk to you. You are the one who sits near the window, aren’t you?”

Me: “Yes, but as I said–”

Customer: “Look, I don’t want to talk to anyone but you! Joan doesn’t sit near the window, so she can’t help me. I need to talk to someone who has a view of the street.”

Me: “Um, okay–”

Customer: “Now if you are done, would you please tell me what the name of the curtain shop across the street from you is called?”

Me: “Huh? Uh, Country Curtains.”

Customer: “Thank you. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” *hangs up*

Me: “…”

Poodle Bites Woman, Claims Insanity

, , , | Right | July 1, 2008

(I’m outside walking a small poodle before her bath.)

Passing Woman: *to the poodle* “Oh, what a pretty kitty! Hello, kitty!”

Me: “…”

Unlimited Nights, Weekends and Spelling

, , | Right | June 29, 2008

Me: “Thank you for calling [Company Wireless]. May I have the ten-digit number you’re calling about today?”

Customer: “Yes, can you spell thousand for me?”

Me: “… excuse me?”

Customer: “Can you spell thousand?”

Me: “Um, sure. T-H-O-U-S-A-N-D.”

Customer: “T-H-O-U-S-A-N-D.”

Me: “Yes that’s correct…”

Customer: “Okay, thank you. Can you spell fifteen?”

Me: “Um, excuse me–”

Customer: “Can you spell fifteen?”

Me: “F-I-F-T-E-E-N.”

Customer: “Okay, thank you!” *click*

Me: “???”


This story is part of the Peculiar Customers roundup!

Read the next Peculiar Customers roundup story!

Read the Peculiar Customers roundup!

The Matrix Rejected

, , , | Right | June 24, 2008

(I used to work in a shop selling overpriced family coats of arms in a shop at a certain theme park in Florida. After a transaction has gone through, this customer turns to her daughter.)

Customer: “Was that lucky?”

Oracle Child: *stares blankly*

Customer: “Was it unlucky to buy it using that card?”

Oracle Child: “Yes…”

Customer: “You sure it was unlucky?”

Oracle Child: “Yes.”

Customer: “I have to cancel that purchase and use a different card.”

Coworker: “It’s already gone through.”

Customer: “This is [Theme Park]!”

(My coworker had to oblige the customer and handed her the forms to cancel it. Stupidly, she refused to sign the forms and stormed out with her husband and Oracle Child in tow.)


This story is part of the Peculiar Customers roundup!

Read the next Peculiar Customers roundup story!

Read the Peculiar Customers roundup!

Picking The Wrong Employee To Mess With

, , , | Right | June 23, 2008

(I had a severe headache from having been locked in the store overnight while the floor was being stripped. The store opened on time and the manager arrived in street clothes to help move displays back to the tile.)

Old Lady: “Do you want to look in my shopping bag?

Me: “No, ma’am, you’re fine.”

Old Lady: “LOOK IN MY BAG!”

Me: “I don’t need to.”

(The old lady comes over, opens it, and shoves it in my face.)

Me: “Okay, then…”

(I peeked in the bag and saw her groceries from another store.)

Old Lady: “What the h*** do you think you are doing? I’m not a thief! Where do you get off doing something like that! Just because I am old doesn’t make me a thief!”

Me: “What? Where do you get off coming in here and raising your voice at me?”

Store Manager: *quiet*

Old Lady: “There was no reason to look in my bag!”

Me: “I don’t know what your problem is, but you are going to take it with you and leave this store right now!”

Store Manager: *still quiet*

Old Lady: “You had no right to look in my bag!”

Me: “Ma’am, you demanded I look in that bag. Even the store manager heard you do it. I’m in no mood for your paranoid games. If you ever come back in here and treat any of my employees the way you have just treated me, I’ll escort you through that door so fast you’ll get whiplash.”

Old Lady: *huffs out*

Store Manager: “A little tired, are we buddy?”