(I’m cashiering when a customer approaches me and turns in a lost credit card she found lying on the floor in front of the doors. I take it, make note of the name on the card, and place it in the safe behind the registers. About twenty minutes later, I get a phone call from a woman saying she thinks her credit card is still at the store. I verify the name on the card, and tell her we did find it. She comes back into the store a few minutes later.)

Customer: “I’m here for a lost credit card.”

Me: “Okay, let me just check your ID!”

(The names again match up, and I return the card to her.)

Customer: “Can I get the name of the girl who rang up my purchase? She never gave me back my card.”

Me: “Actually, I’m pretty sure she did. Another customer found the card on the floor by the doors. I think you may have dropped it, ma’am.”

Customer: “No, I’m pretty sure she kept it from me. I’d like her name. When I find extra charges on the card I’m calling your manager and turning her in!”

Me: “Ma’am, she has worked here for three years, and I know for a fact she would never steal your credit card. There’s no way she could have kept your card, made purchases, and dropped it over by the door all while still being on the clock and ringing at the registers.”

(At this moment, the coworker in question, whose shift has just ended, walks past the registers on her way out. I ask her about the card.)

Coworker: “Yes, ma’am, I do remember handing your card back to you. You put everything back in your wallet but kept the card in your hand as you walked away.”

Customer: “You’re lying! Give me your name! I’m going home to check my bank account and if there are any extra charges on my card I’m calling corporate and the police on you!”

Coworker: “My name is [Coworker] and I promise you won’t find any extra charges on your card.”

(The customer stormed out of the store in reply. There were never any extra charges placed on her card.)

(At my store, we’re required to inform customers about our store credit card and attempt to get them to sign up. I’ve just finished ringing up a customer with her purchases.)

Me: “All right, and would you like to save 10% today and sign up for a [Store] card?”

Customer: “Do you have any coupons back there you can give me?”

Me: “Unfortunately, we don’t have any non-card holder coupons out right now.”

Customer: “Can I just use your employee discount?”

Me: “Sorry, we’re not allowed to do that. I’d get in a lot of trouble.”

Customer: “That’s dumb. I shop here all the time.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but with the [Store] credit card you get a percentage back on your purchase every time you use it and special card holder coupons mailed out to you. If you shop here a lot, it’s actually pretty worth it. Would you like to apply today?”

Customer: *blank-faced* “Can’t I just use yours?”

Me: *taken aback* “Sorry, I don’t have one for you to even use in the first place.”

Customer: “Exactly! Why are you trying to sell me a card if you don’t even have one?”

Me: “Well, I’m only seventeen… so I’m not really old enough to apply in the first place.”

Customer: “Well, that’s just stupid!”

(I work as a shop assistant in quite an expensive high street store. Because of the relatively costly items, customers expect a certain level of customer service. We also wear clothing from the store as our uniform, but with no real way of identifying staff, we usually greet our customers while we’re tidying the shop floor. I am going about my business when a customer walks in. I give it about 30 seconds before approaching her.)

Me: “Good morning.”

Customer: “Hi. I was just looking for some clothes. Is that okay?”

Me: “Of course. What sort of clothing were you after?”

Customer: “Just clothes. Am I in the right place?”

(I realise that she is trying to make some kind of point.)

Customer: “This ‘customer service’ nonsense is ridiculous. ‘Are you all right? Do you need any help?’ It interrupts the flow of shopping. Shopping is an experience, and the shop assistant getting in your face interrupts the flow of shopping.”

Me: “Well, as we wear clothing from the store, staff members can be a little tricky to identify if they aren’t behind the till, so we greet customers so they know who to look out for if they need any help.”

Customer: “’Need help,’ pfft. If I need help I’ll come and find you. You don’t need to ask me if I need help. Do you know that leading psychologists (that’s what I do, I’m trained in psychology) have found that most people hate shopping now because of all this ‘customer service’ so they’d rather shop online? Isn’t that sad? Shopping is an experience and customer service is simply ruining it.”

Me: “We carry out customer surveys on a regular basis and we’ve found that customers actually request this kind of service and many of them shop here not only because of the clothing but also the standard of customer service we uphold, but I’m sure if you wrote a letter to the company they would take your thoughts on board.”

(She carried on for 10 minutes before she stopped “interrupting the flow of my working.”)

(During my studies, I work part time at a high-end clothing store. One of my tasks is to fold clothes in the women’s department. I’ve just folded a high pile of baby-pink polo shirts, when a woman comes up and starts pulling on the bottom of the pile.)

Me: “Can I help you?”

Woman: “I need this in size L.” *pulls random polos from the pile*

Me: *grabs polo* “Here you go, an L.”

(The woman heads for the fitting room, and just as I have reshaped the pile to something neat, she returns and throws her crumpled polo shirt on top of it.)

Woman: “Aaah, no. You know? Pink just isn’t my colour. Now, fold.”

(She waves her hand at me to make me work.)

Me: “…”

(It’s a slow day, and I’m the only cashier up at the registers. A frazzled mom comes up to make her purchases with her chatty toddler son in tow. The kid is talking non-stop, pointing out every little thing, and obviously has been doing so for some time. The mother is quickly losing her patience and hardly says a word to me.)

Me: *reaching for a pair of toddler boy shoes to scan* “Hey, bud, are these awesome shoes for you?”

(The little boy nods excitedly and stops mid-sentence to begin chatting about his shoes. The mother cuts in.)

Customer: “Obviously those are for him. Please don’t talk to my son.”

(The rest of the transaction was done in uncomfortable silence, save for the little boy continuing to chat away non-stop. To this day I’m still dumbfounded over her response!)