(Our store closes at 6 pm. It’s 6:20 and I’m standing by the front doors, waiting to lock up, while my coworker cashes out the last few customers at the store. While I’m eager to get home, I’m usually sympathetic when someone wants to grab something quickly. A woman walks up to me.)

Customer: “Hi, are you guys closing?”

Me: “Yeah, we’ve actually been closed for about 20 minutes.”

Customer: “Oh, I wanted to go in.”

Me: “Well, if you know what you want you can rush in and grab it.”

Customer: *very bright and chipper* “Well, I wasn’t going to buy anything. I just wanted to look around.”

Me: “Sorry, but we are closed.”

Customer: “So you’re not going to let me in?”

Me:“Um, no.”

Customer: “That’s not very good customer service.”

Me: “Well, that would be because you’re not a real customer.”

(I’m the customer in this situation:)

Me: “I’m looking for a copy of Les Mis and I found several different copies from different publishers. What do you recommend?”

Staff Member: “Well, it depends. Do you want a smaller-size copy that’d fit in your purse so you can take it anywhere?”

Me: “Well… the print in those can get pretty tiny… Actually, I’m looking for a book hefty enough to kill someone with.”

Staff Member: “…”

Me: “Sorry.”

Staff Member: “In that case, I suggest Tolstoy or Proust.”

(Customers are able to purchase items through an affiliated online sales channel, which has its own customer service department. Stores really do not have a lot of information regarding these orders, but customers usually come here first when there’s a problem. This customer calls on a Saturday.)

Caller: “Yeah, I just got an email saying my order’s been cancelled. How do I get my money back?”

Me: “Well, your refund will be processed however you paid for it, so it will go onto your payment card automatically.”

Caller: “How much will I get back?”

Me: “I’m not sure; I’d have to pull up your order details.”

(I can basically see what they ordered, what they paid, and their order status, that’s it.)

Caller: “Can I just get cash back? I don’t want to wait a month for it to process.”

Me: “Well, it will only take a couple of business days…”

Caller: “So, how much am I getting back? Why is this taking so long?”

Me: “Well, let’s see. You paid about $5—”

Caller: “But I paid shipping! If I’m not being shipped anything, I shouldn’t be charged shipping!”

Me: “Yes, that’s true. You will be refunded the shipping—”

Caller: “Then how much am I getting back? And when will I be getting it? God! Why are you taking so long with this?”

Me: “Well, this was an online order. You’d really have better luck talking to online customer service.”

Caller: “What’s their number?”

Me: “Let me just pull that up for you—”

Caller: “I’m not wasting another minute on this. Call me back next month when you’ve finally found it.” *rattles off phone number and hangs up on me*

(Despite the shock of her rudeness, I pull up the online customer service number and proceed to call her back maybe 30 seconds later.)

Me: “Hi, I’ve got that customer service number for you—”

Caller: “About time. Give it to me.”

(I give her the number and she hangs up on me again.)

Me: “Well, that was fun.”

Coworker: “Isn’t online customer service closed on weekends?”

Me: “Yes, it is.”

(And I would have warned her of that if she hadn’t hung up on me again. I guessed she had fun figuring that out for herself.)

(I am in a large second-hand bookshop that allows dogs as long as they are leashed. There are signs prominently displayed with that information. I am sitting in a small lounge area and nearby are coffee machines and plates of biscuits bought on the honesty system. You take what you want and drop money in a box. I get up and leave my 14-year-old, very well behaved, miniature poodle, Fred, by the chair, with the handle of his lead under a chair leg. As I get coffee I do not see Fred take a few steps forward and, friendly, approach another dog which snarls and barks at him. I turn around to see Fred sit back down by the chair. I ask the owners of the other dog if everything is all right and they apologise for their dog’s aggressiveness. Neither dog came into contact with each other and the other dog has calmed down. No harm done. I sit down and a customer sitting next to me speaks:)

Customer: “They shouldn’t allow dogs in here. They were fighting.”

Me: “Excuse me, sir. Dogs are permitted. There are signs all over the place and these dogs were not fighting. There was a small altercation but everything is fine now.”

Customer: “You should get those dogs out of here. I know the owner. I’ll complain.”

Me: “Go and complain, then. See how far it gets you.”

(He leaves and minutes later the owner of the shop approaches with the man and asks about the ‘dog fight.’ I and the owners of the other dog explain what happened and a member of staff who witnessed everything confirms our version of events. The man is by now red faced and clearly angry and the owner turns to him:)

Owner: “You lied to me, sir. You said there was a dog fight but the dogs never came into contact with each other.”

Customer: “But dogs should not be allowed in here.”

Owner: “This is my shop. I decide if dogs come in here and these dogs are welcome. I also decide which humans come in here and you are no longer welcome. Get out and don’t come back.”

(Moments passed before the man realised he lost and he left. The best part of the story? When I sat back down Fred and the other dog were sitting side by side happily sniffing each other as if they had known each other for years.)

Customer: “Where are your Jean Auel books?”

Me: “Oh, those are in historical fiction, the next aisle over.”

Customer: “Ugh, why can’t you put everything in the same place so I don’t have to walk?”