Years ago, when there were only flip phones, I worked for a week for this guy off Craigslist. Eight to ten-hour days for seven straight days.

He dropped off $37 at my house with a nasty note saying I was a s***ty painter and didn’t even deserve the $37. I can’t remember my hourly rate, but I know it was more than a few cents an hour.

So, this dude had mentioned he had arguments with his girlfriend about constantly calling and leaving messages, because he would still incur a charge.

So, my buddy had a PC with a modem and set it up to dial the guy’s phone for three straight days and leave a message for two seconds and hang up, then redial.

I wish I knew what his bill was by the end.

I design custom furniture. I’m talking to a client about a dresser she’s had me make, and now we’re ready for her to come and collect it.

Me: “As a reminder, here are the exact dimensions of the dresser; make sure you have a vehicle big enough to fit it. I’ll help you lift and load it.”

Customer: “Yeah, no problem.”

Later, she arrives with a small car and a male friend.

Me: “That vehicle’s too small for the dresser.”

Customer: “Just try squeezing it in anyway.”

Her friend forces it in roughly, scratching and damaging it.

Customer: “I’ll come back tomorrow with a U-Haul to pick it up.”

Next day:

Customer: “I want a refund. I didn’t like it when I saw it in person, and it’s slightly damaged.”

Me: “The damage was caused by your friend trying to force it into your small car. I won’t refund you because: one, I already held the dresser for you. Two, I told you to make sure you had a vehicle that fit, which you ignored. Three, you instructed your friend to try to force it, which caused the damage.”

Customer: “I’ll report you to the police!”

Me: “Go right ahead. I’ll be happy to share my side of the story.”

Three days later:

Customer: “I’ll schedule to pick up the dresser.”

Me: “Just tell me the day and I’ll have it at the end of my driveway.”

I didn’t want to deal with her BS again. She finally came to pick it up with an appropriate vehicle.

I was the national sales manager for a factory. We had a customer who was a “friend” of the owner. I say “friend” because this mother[father] would start a company, slowly run up debts over the course of about five years, then “go out of business” and start a new company. I’ll call him [Slimeball].

“Now, remember,” [Slimeball] would say, “[Quality Supply Co.] is not responsible for the debts of [Ultimate Supply Co.]” [Quality Supply Co.] left us holding something like $25,000.

Now that [Slimeball] is running [Ultimate Supply Co.], he is over $10,000 in the hole to us on orders from more than six months prior.

Anyway, I’m in Utah with [Slimeball]. We had a really nice breakfast, and hit the road for some serious “windshield time” (what they call it when the sales calls are far apart). 

In advance of the trip, I arranged for us to make a call on a big college where we wound up making a small sale. This is BIG for us, because now we have a product on their shelf, and HUGE for him because he’s the rep for something like thirty companies – all of which he will soon screw over – that he can get onto this campus.

We’re driving away, heading to the next college, a couple of hours away. He’s feeling great, and so am I.

Me: *I confess.* “Hey, we can’t send the shipment unless we clear our receivables.”

Slimeball: “What? Why?”

Me: “Yeah, it’s the new warehouse system. It won’t even log it out, and even if we manually override it, the shipper gets a scrambled code and sends it back to us.”

Mind you, we promised two-day shipping from New York.

Slimeball: “I’ll call [My Boss].”

Me: “He’s out of the country and is too cheap to put international minutes on his phone plan.”

He laughs because he has no respect for my boss, but also, it’s funny that this man worth $20,000,000 won’t spend $1 a minute on a phone call, despite having inherited everything, hence why he’ll roll over when getting screwed so hard; the work he put in to get what he had was getting yelled at by his dad while waiting for the old man to die.

Slimeball: “Okay, what can you do to help me?”

Me: “I have just the thing.”

I dial our receivables clerk.

Me: “Hey, Jenny, I’m here with [Slimeball]. If he pays up his balance, can we still ship his order today?”

Receivables Clerk: “The FedEx truck just left. We’re going to have to pay the extra for UPS. He’s downstairs right now.”

I forgot to mention, it’s two hours later on the East Coast. While [Slimeball] and I are about to have a late lunch of tomahawk steaks and whiskey flights, the machines at the factory just shut down, and the warehouse is about to start packing up the next morning’s orders.

[Slimeball] hated getting back to $0.00 with us and gritted his teeth to enjoy just another moment of not paying us. Then he pulled over, took out an AMEX under the name of Ultimate Supply Co., and Jenny ran the card for what was due in total, not just what was six months old.

We made one more sales call, then hit the chop house.

It was a fine day.

UPDATE: Some sentences have been restructured to make the sequence of events easier to follow; the events are unchanged.

My buddy works for a General Contractor doing framing and renovations. One of their clients is absolutely LOADED (fourth house, luxury cars, expensive gadgets constantly being delivered) but every time the contractor asks for a payment, the guy gives nothing but lip service.

Weeks of work go by. The addition is framed out, materials stacked, labor hours piling up, and still no check. The General Contractor has had enough.

One afternoon, after yet another excuse, the contractor waves my friend over.

Contractor: “Grab the chains.”

Friend: “…the chains?”

Contractor: “Yep. Hook them around the framing. Fasten the rest to the truck.”

So, my friend does it. They’re big, heavy-duty chains looped right through the wood beams, clanking as they’re dragged toward the pickup. By now the sound has gotten the homeowner’s attention.

He storms outside, red-faced.

Homeowner: “What the f*** do you think you’re doing?!”

Contractor: *Calmly, not even looking up from the truck hitch.* “If you don’t have the check in my hand in the next minute, I’m leaving the site, and I’m taking all my work with me.”

There’s a frozen silence, except for the clinking of the last chain tightening. The homeowner’s bravado collapses. He panics, runs back inside, and less than sixty seconds later comes out waving a check like a white flag.

I work for a manufacturing company. One of our big clients is a real piece of work. Yes, he orders a lot of stuff, but he also demands a lot of free extras and then finds things to complain about and insists on partial refunds. Our old owner gave him everything he wanted.

We’ve just gotten a new owner, and we’ve told him about this guy. The new owner asks how much we actually make from the client. I calculate it.

Me: “In the past two years, we’ve made a net profit of $4,500 from him.”

New Owner: “That’s not worth the aggravation. Next time he calls, pass him to me.”

We have an open-plan office, away from the actual manufacturing area. A couple of days later, the client calls. I signal that it’s him, then answer.

Me: “Hello, this is [My Name] at [Company]—”

Client: “Put me through to the owner, right now!”

Me: “Of course.”

I transfer him to the owner. The owner puts the call on speaker.

Owner: “This is [Owner].”

Client: “Who are you? Where’s [Old Owner]?”

Owner: “He sold the company to me two weeks ago. What can I do for you?”

Client: “I put in an order three weeks ago. I want you to send four of your guys out this weekend to install the stuff.”

Owner: “No.”

Client: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, NO? YOU ALWAYS DO THIS FOR ME!”

Owner: “Not anymore. I know you have your own installers. We sent you a very comprehensive manual: your men can do it.”

The client lets out a string of curses.

Owner: “Shut up, or we’ll never sell you anything again.”

Client: “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I’M YOUR BIGGEST CUSTOMER! WITHOUT ME, YOUR BUSINESS WILL COLLAPSE!”

Owner: “No, it won’t.”

The client curses in combinations I’ve never heard, and I spent two years in the military before being hired here.

Owner: “I’ve heard enough. You’ll have to get your equipment somewhere else, because we’re not selling you a thing. Don’t call us or come here: forget we even exist.”

The new owner hangs up, and kept his word. Our business is still humming along, and not dealing with the client anymore has boosted morale among both the office staff and the workers. 

Related:
Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 29
Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 28
Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 27
Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 26
Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 25