Doesn’t Understand The Custom Part Of Customer, Part 12

, , , , , , | Right | January 18, 2019

(The coffee shop I work at is not full service. This means that when we finish making your drink for, we set it on the counter and it’s your responsibility to retrieve it. Most of the time, customers don’t mind waiting for their drink and stand off to the side while they wait. The only time we come to your table is if you ordered food — we bring it out when it’s ready. A woman comes in and orders latte. Before I can charge her for the coffee, she realizes she’s forgotten her wallet and goes out to her car. In the meantime, I make her drink and set it on the counter for when she returns. Ten minutes go by and the woman has not returned, so I place her drink on our warmer so it will still be hot when she comes back. Because we’re busy, I forget about the woman until I see her leaning dramatically over the counter, nearly twenty minutes after I first took her order.)

Customer: *agitated and hanging over the counter* “Excuse me! Is my coffee done yet?!”

Me: “Oh! Yes, ma’am. I thought you ran out to your car, so I’ve been keeping it warm for you.”

Customer: *scoffs at me and looks at me like I’m stupid* “Umm, no. I’ve been sitting and waiting this entire time. I was going to pay you when you brought it out.”

(She then proceeded to go on about how I should have known she was sitting down and how I need to pay better attention. Turns out she’s a regular customer I hadn’t met before, and she always tries to get people to bring her drinks out to her without paying for them first.)

Related:
Doesn’t Understand The Custom Part Of Customer, Part 11
Doesn’t Understand The Custom Part Of Customer, Part 10
Doesn’t Understand The Custom Part Of Customer, Part 9

When The Dollhouse Becomes The Madhouse

, , , , , | Right | December 23, 2018

(My husband and I are at a well-known toy store, and they are running a coupon where you get ten dollars off if you spend a hundred dollars. We’re in line with our small amount of purchases — we don’t need the coupon ourselves — and we happen to get behind a guy who is clutching a smaller, plastic dollhouse in a death grip. He puts the dollhouse on the counter and beams proudly.)

Customer: “You know, I’m so glad I finally found this dollhouse! I’ve been to seven different toy stores, and I drove over an hour because you guys said you had it when I called.”

Employee: “Well, happy to help, sir.”

Customer: “My daughter’s birthday is the same day as Christmas, and she’s turning five. This is the only thing my wife wanted me to buy and I forgot to get it. I’m so glad you had it!”

Employee: “That’s what we’re here for, sir. Your total comes to $26.95.”

Customer: “Here’s a coupon for ten bucks off.” *hands over a coupon for ten off of a hundred*

Employee: “Sir, I cannot accept that coupon on this purchase. The total purchase has to be for a hundred dollars for the coupon to work.”

Customer: *no longer very thankful* “WHAT? IT DOESN’T SAY THAT! WHERE DOES IT SAY THAT? SHOW ME!”

(Even from behind him we can see the print on the coupon, which clearly says, “Ten dollars off a hundred-dollar purchase.” She points to the bold print, and he goes ballistic.)

Customer: “You’re just doing this to ruin my daughter’s birthday! You could take that coupon, but you want to see my daughter suffer! My wife will kill me if I don’t come home with this dollhouse! You’ll give me this coupon right now!

Employee: “Sir, I am not going to give you this coupon on a twenty-five-dollar purchase. A manager will not give you this coupon on a twenty-five-dollar purchase. You can of course ask, but it won’t happen.”

Customer: *now looking at my husband* “You see how they do us? This b**** does this stuff for kicks! She wants to ruin my daughter’s birthday! She wants to ruin my daughter’s Christmas! She wants to piss my wife off! Hey, man, back me up. She should give me the discount, right?”

My Husband: “No, she should have you kicked out. And if I were in your shoes, I’d either buy the d*** toy, the toy you forgot, the only toy you were supposed to get, and pay full price, or go back and pick out seventy-five more dollars’ worth of stuff so I could get my coupon. I wouldn’t yell at a young woman for something she can’t change, and I wouldn’t take my frustrations of my own stupidity out on her, either. Now, just buy the toy so we can ring up, and let this girl go home sometime tonight.”

(The guy looked at my husband as if he was ready to fight, but as my husband was easily a good eight inches taller than him and a lot bigger than him, he instead threw the dollhouse on the ground and marched out of the store screaming, “I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY! YOU’VE RUINED MY DAUGHTER’S BIRTHDAY! YOU’VE RUINED CHRISTMAS! MY WIFE IS GOING TO KILL ME!” The cashier, who had looked a little worried up until this point, thanked my husband profusely for backing her up. The guy lost his mind all because he couldn’t buy an already cheap dollhouse for ten dollars less. I’m pretty sure the loss of the dollhouse isn’t the thing that ruined his poor child’s Christmas.)

This Will Come As A Surprise To Heineken…

, , , , , | Right | December 10, 2018

Me: *ultra enthusiastic* “Hi, guys–”

Male Diner: *interrupts”* “I want a Corona!”

Me: “Unfortunately, we don’t carry Corona, sir.” *shows him beer list* “I can offer you a Dos Equis, if you’d like?”

Male Diner: “No! I don’t want that; I want Corona! Fine, just give me a Bud Light Lime!”

Me: “Sir, we don’t carry Bud Light Lime. This is the list of beer that I do have. I have Bud or Bud Light, if you’d be interested in one of those?”

Male Diner: “No, I just want a good American beer, like Corona, or Heineken! Or just a Bud Light Platinum, or lime!”

Me: *long pause* “Sir, I’m going to grab you a water and give you a few minutes to look over the menu and decide what beer you’d like.”

Male Diner: “I don’t want water. I want a Corona!”

Me: “…”

Me: “Ma’am, what can I get you to drink?”

Female Diner: “Is there alcohol in a Mojito?”

Me: *sigh*

Has A Lot Of Baggage

, , , , | Right | October 3, 2018

(I’m sixteen and working in the housewares section of a department store. Part of the housewares section is luggage, with every single type of luggage set out in display units. In order to get the boxes with the luggage in them, you have to scale a two-story set of movable stairs in the warehouse. One night, FIVE minutes before closing, a well-dressed man and his wife come to the luggage department to inquire about luggage. I know just from looking at him he is going to be a delight to work with.)

Man: *quite imperious* “I have a very important meeting tomorrow in New York and I don’t have time for your ineptitude! I need to see this particular set of luggage right now!” *points to a set of blue luggage*

Me: *a little miffed by his attitude, but back then, the customer WAS always right* “Right away, sir.”

(I pull the luggage down from the display. The man actually HISSES at me!)

Man: “What do you think you’re doing? I don’t want to look at THOSE old things! I want to see a new set, right out of the box! Make sure the quality is what I need!”

(Off I go, into the warehouse and up the long moving stair/ladder to retrieve a huge box and come back down the stairs with it. Usually a stock person would do this job, but they all have gone home for the evening. I get the box down and return to the gentleman; at this point the speakers blare out the announcement that the store has indeed closed for the night.)

Man: “It’s about time! Do you know what kind of rush I’m in? It took you an hour to retrieve these!”

(It took me three minutes. I’m now freaking out because I’m not supposed to clock out any later than 9:02. I start ignoring the man’s attitude so I can get rid of him.)

Me: “Here we go. Let me open this for you so you can inspect them and we can get you home.

(I take out the large suitcase, unzip it and take out the smaller suitcases in turn. They, needless to say, look JUST LIKE THE DISPLAY. Nonetheless, he goes over them with a fine-tooth comb. 9:00 turns into 9:07.)

Me: “Now, just let me box this back up for you and…”

Man: “NO! These will not do! You will go at once and fetch me….” *looking at the other displays while pointing out his finger* “THAT set there. The burgundy one! Hop to it! I’m in a hurry.”

Man’s Wife: *quietly* “But dear, the store has already…”

(The man holds his hand up to silence her. The poor lady actually cows to her husband’s gesture! Now really pissed off and wanting to go home, I head back into the warehouse, back up the stairs to fetch the burgundy luggage, just knowing with every passing minute I am getting into serious trouble, trouble I can’t get out of because THE CUSTOMER IS ALWAYS RIGHT. I allow the box to slide down the banisters rather than try to carry it down each individual step, so at least I’m not in danger of falling with this massive box in hand. I grab the box, head back to the luggage section, and un-box this set of luggage.)

Man’s Wife: “Oh, those are nice! I think you should…”

Man: *again with the hand* “These will never do! They are too feminine! You got these out so I would look like a FOOL, didn’t you? You will now go and fetch me the BLACK set of luggage.”

(I now know this guy is just making this a sick joke and is enjoying bossing me around. I’m so desperate to get out of this but I can’t find any solution because I can’t tell this guy off. Suddenly, as I’m heading back for the THIRD box of luggage, the manager approaches me.)

Manager:: “[My  Name], why are you still here? You should have clocked out fifteen minutes ago!”

(I explain the whole situation to him, nearly breaking down in tears. The more he hears, the angrier he gets, and though I think he’s getting mad at me it becomes apparent that’s not the case. The great thing about this manager is he doesn’t take any crap. So, instead of going back into the warehouse, he makes me take him to this man.)

Man: *mistakenly thinking the manager is there to help him* “Oh, thank goodness there’s a MAN to help me! This girl is completely incompetent! She has repeatedly brought me the wrong luggage and wasted my valuable time! Now, if you would be so kind as to fetch me…”

Manager: *cutting him off* “Sir, why do you think we have displays here?” *the man is now stunned into silence.* “They are here so you can pick out the ONE set of luggage you need so my employee doesn’t have to continuously go into the stockroom to get boxes for you! She is NOT your servant; she is an employee who deserves respect! I am here to inform you the store is now closed! Here is what is going to happen: either you are going to purchase one of the two sets of luggage you forced my employee to retrieve for you OR you are going to exit my store. Immediately. The register closes in one minute. Make your decision now.”

(The manager gave the man a steely glare that, to this day, I’ve only seen this particular manager perfect.  The man and his poor wife immediately left, his rants of “Do you know who I am?” and “I make that man’s yearly salary in a month!” resonating throughout the store. I stared at the two boxes and the luggage the man had strewn in the area and the manager said, “Don’t worry about it; I’ll explain to the stock guys in the morning,” and sent me to clock out. Over twenty years later I still hope that guy finally learned some respect for others, especially women. And I seriously hope his wife got a divorce!)

Acting Shady At The Airport

, , , , , | Friendly | August 7, 2018

(I’m a customer, flying out on a Tuesday morning. I’ve driven to the airport, parked in a long-term lot, and am now standing in line for the security checkpoint. I’m idly people-watching when I notice a woman wearing these really long sandals basically made out of lots of straps. It strikes me as pretty impractical footwear for traveling, so I give her a closer look… only to recognize her horizontally-striped shirt and bleached blonde hair from someone who sped past me very aggressively on the highway before I arrived. She’s also wearing large sunglasses inside the airport, so I call her Shades. She finishes checking a bag at the counter and walks over to join the security queue, roughly a dozen people behind me, only to pull out her phone and begin speaking very loudly:)

Shades: “OH, NO, MOM, THIS IS AWFUL. IT’S A CATASTROPHE! MY PLANE IS GOING TO LEAVE SOON WITHOUT ME, AND THERE ARE LIKE EIGHT HUNDRED PEOPLE IN LINE IN FRONT OF ME!”

(A quick count suggests roughly forty people in the line. This is not a bad security queue. I begin exchanging amused and disbelieving glances with the people nearby.)

Shades: “MOM, THEY’RE GOING TO LEAVE WITHOUT ME! I CAN’T MAKE IT IN TIME WITH ALL THESE PEOPLE IN FRONT OF ME! THIS IS SO TERRIBLE! WHY ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE HERE?! THIS AIRPORT IS AWFUL; IT’S NOTHING LIKE NEW YORK!”

(She’s now getting looks from all over the line, but doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.)

Shades: “I’M GOING TO MISS MY FLIGHT, AND IT’LL COST ME AN EXTRA 100 DOLLARS, AND I’LL BE STUCK HERE IN THIS STUPID CITY!”

(I can’t help but laugh. She shuts up for a little while, and then gets back on her phone.)

Shades: *still shouting* “HI THERE, [OTHER RELATIVE]. IT’S AWFUL; I’M GOING TO MISS MY FLIGHT! IT BOARDS SOON AND THERE ARE LIKE FORTY PEOPLE IN FRONT OF ME IN THE SECURITY LINE. I CALLED MOM, BUT SHE WOULDN’T GIVE ME ANY SYMPATHY. SHE SAYS CHARLOTTE IS A NICE CITY AND DOESN’T CARE THAT I’LL BE STUCK HERE!”

(Don’t worry, Shades; we care. We’re all hoping you’ll hurry home; it’s just your mother who doesn’t want you back.)

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