Customer: “So, how are you spending your long weekend?”
Me: “I’m working here.”
Customer: “Why would you be here?”
Me: *confused* “Because I’m working?”
Customer: “But why?”
Me: “Um, because I’m scheduled to work.”
Customer: “That doesn’t make any sense!” *walks away*
Customer: “I want to make a complaint! The cashier triple-charged me for the cheese!”
Me: “Really? Let me see the receipt so I can give you a refund.”
Customer: *shoves the receipt at me*
Me: “Ma’am, you said the cashier triple-charged you?”
Customer: “Yes, and she was very rude and disrespectful!”
Me: “Ma’am, our receipts show which till the sale went through on. You were on self-checkout, so you overcharged yourself. Are you still wanting to make a complaint?”
Customer: *stammers and quickly leaves, minus her refund*
Next Customer: *jokingly* “Hi, I’m feeling guilty and would like to complain about myself as well!”
This story is part of the Even-More-Customers-Are-To-Blame roundup!
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(I am working in a post office inside a mall. I am in a rather secluded part of the store and usually only one or two customers are here at a time. This is my first night alone, and I have just learned this particular transaction about two hours earlier with my manager. The first meeting occurs with my manager there as a witness.)
Customer #1: “I’d like to do a change of address, please.”
Me: “Sure. I just need two pieces of photo ID and something showing your old address. It could be your driver’s license or a bill.”
Customer #1: “I don’t carry ID with me. I don’t want to get mugged. I took the bus here just to do this. Can’t you do it anyway?”
(Unfortunately, there is no way to do this. If I don’t write the information down on the form, it will be rejected and the customer’s money will not be refunded. I explain this to her several times, and mention TWO pieces of ID repeatedly. I also write this down on a note and hand it to her. She leaves, upset, and tells me she’ll be back later. Work continues as normal, until I see the same customer come back in the store two hours later. This is after my manager has left me alone for the night.)
Me: “Hi there! So, you brought your ID?”
Customer #1: *grumbles* “Yes. I can’t BELIEVE you made me bus it home and all the way back here for ONE STUPID CARD.”
(At this point, I know she’s going to get even angrier. She’s only got one piece of ID, and I still can’t do the transaction.)
Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I need two pieces of ID.”
Customer #1: “Are you f***ing joking?! ALL THE WAY HOME AND YOU STILL WON’T DO IT?!”
Me: “I asked you for two pieces of ID, ma’am, several times. I even sent a note with you.”
Customer #1: “YOU EXPECT ME TO READ A NOTE? ARE YOU STUPID? YOU HAVE ONE PIECE! THAT’S ENOUGH! JUST DO THE F***ING FORM!”
(The customer is fuming, and there are other people in line behind her. I call my manager, who immediately remembers the customer and tells me to “just do the transaction anyways and she can lose her $40 if she wants to”, but by this time the woman is screeching while I’m on the phone.)
Customer #1: “YOU ARE REFUSING ME SERVICE BECAUSE YOU’RE A RACIST, AREN’T YOU?! YOU F***ING RACIST!”
(Suddenly, she vaults herself over the counter and grabs the nearest object—thankfully just a roll of kraft paper—and starts whacking me with it. Security happens to be passing by and they tackle the woman to the ground, kraft paper in hand, still screeching about my “racism” and “ignorance”. I go back to helping the customers that have been waiting.)
Customer #2: “My god, that was the best thing I’ve ever seen! What the h*** did you do to her?!”
Me: “Long story…I just needed more ID and she didn’t have it. What can I help you with?”
Customer #2: “Oh, a change of address. But I only have one piece of ID…” *gets a sheepish look on his face* “You just spent the whole time I was in line explaining that you need two pieces of ID for this form, didn’t you?”
Me: “Oh, um, yes… so, you know that I can’t do it then?”
Customer #2: “Yeah, I just hoped for some hair pulling.” *slinks away*
Customer #3: *grinning* “I have two pieces of ID, and I just want to mail this.”
Me: “I’m so sorry you had to witness that, sir. You could use the drop box beside the desk next time. It’s right over there.”
Customer #3: “Oh, I know. But I’m an officer and I wanted to witness that woman in case things went south.”
(It turns out he really was an officer! He had the woman charged with assault and petty theft for taking the roll of kraft paper.)
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(I’m working cash when a group of guys early 20s comes in.)
Me: “What would you like to drink with your combo?”
Customer #1: “Coke, please.”
Me: “Is Pepsi alright?”
Customer #1: *forlornly* “I guess…”
(I finish the rest of their orders and I overhear their conversation.)
Customer #1: “It sucks that they don’t have Coke.”
Customer #2: “Yeah, it’s 2012. Can’t Coke and Pepsi just get along?”
(I’m allergic to tomatoes and peppers, and most relish/pickles have peppers in them.)
Me: “I’d like a burger but with no tomato or relish or pickles. Just lettuce, onions and mustard, please.”
Waitress: *confused* “Okay?”
Me: “I’m allergic to tomatoes and relish and pickles. All the other toppings are good.”
Waitress: “All right.”
(The burger arrives, and it has nothing on it; it’s just a patty on a bun.)
Me: “Hey, um, this burger is completely plain. Could I get it with mustard and onions on it?”
Waitress: “Uh, no.”
Me: “Why not?”
Waitress: “Well, my cousin is allergic to mustard, and onions are disgusting!”
