(At our cafe, the chefs occasionally put out a plate of food in the kitchen for everyone to nibble on when they have a moment of spare time. The chefs had put out a bowl of chips. Having a 10 second rest, I grab one chip. There happens to be a customer in front of the counter and he looks at me knowingly.)
Customer: “Calories.” *walks off*
(An upset customer approaches me, waving around a half-eaten bagel.)
Customer: “Who would put so much butter on a bagel?”
Me: “What’s the problem?”
Customer: “Do you seriously think it needs this much butter? Seriously?”
Me: “You want less butter?”
Customer: “The bagel is hot! Butter melts, and it dripped all over my shirt! This is a $50 shirt and it’s ruined! Why would you put so much butter on this? It’s ridiculous!”
Me: “I’m sorry. Would you like a refund?”
Customer: “I’d like you to pay for this shirt, is what I want! Who in their right mind puts on so much butter? Does this seem reasonable to you? Seriously! Look at how much butter is on it!”
Me: “Well, you did ask for extra butter, ma’am.”
Customer: “It’s ruined my shirt! So who’s going to pay for it? I’m not going to!”
Me: “Let me get our supervisor.”
(The supervisor proceeds to speak kindly to her, smile meekly, nod, and say, “mhmm,” a lot. She then gives the customer a complaint form to fill out. Somewhat calmer, and believing the supervisor was on her side, the customer takes the form and starts walking out.)
Customer: “Well, I’ll try washing the shirt, then, but if the stain doesn’t come out, someone here is going to be paying for this shirt! Seriously! Who actually thinks a bagel needs that much butter?”
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(I am a female working drive-thru with a male coworker. We are both able to speak to the customer.)
Me: “Hi, welcome to [shop name]. What can I get for you?”
Customer: “I’d like a [coffee drink] and [sandwich], thanks.”
(At this point, I am busy starting work on the sandwich, so my hands aren’t free to hit the button to respond to the customer.)
Male Coworker: “Alright, that will be [price] at the window, please.”
Customer: “What? You sure went through puberty in a hurry!”
(I’m working on the till in a branch of a well-known chain of coffee shops. The sizes of the drinks are tall, grande, and venti instead of small, medium, and large.)
Me: “Hello, welcome to [Coffee Shop]. What can I get you?”
Customer: “I’ll have a latte to go, please.”
Me: “Of course, sir. What size latte?”
Customer: “Just a small one.”
Me: mumbling as I write the order* “Tall latte–”
Customer: “No! I said small, not tall.”
Me: “A tall drink is small, sir.”
Customer: “No, I don’t want a tall drink. I just want a latte in the smallest size you have.”
Me: *apologetic* “My mistake, sir. One small latte coming up.”
(The customer pays me for his drink, and I direct him to the end of the bar to wait for his coffee whilst my coworker makes it for him. When it is ready, my coworker places it on the bar in front of the customer and asks if the “Tall Latte” is his.)
Customer: *at full volume* “You people can’t do anything right! I asked for a SMALL coffee several times. This isn’t my drink, but I don’t have time for you to remake it because I’m late for work. I will be calling in tomorrow and if you get it wrong again I will have you both fired!” *storms out*
(A customer runs up to the till looking rather angry.)
Customer: “Do you have any Pepsi?”
Me: “Yes, we do. Would you like a–”
Customer: “Do you have any Coca-Cola?”
Me: “Yes, we do.”
Customer: “I’ll have a water, then!”
