I’m a designer at a sign shop. In our town, most of the car dealerships are named for the owner (things like “Johnson Ford” or “Smith Chevrolet”). Our local Hyundai dealership is no different: it’s owned by someone we’ll call Mike Taylorson (not his real name), and is thus named “Taylorson Hyundai”.

We have a customer come storming across the parking lot of the sign shop one day, with smoke pouring out of her ears. She was clearly VERY upset about something.

Customer: “Do you guys make bumper stickers?!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, we certainly do.”

Customer: “Good! I want you to make a bumper sticker that says, ‘Taylorson Hyundai screwed me!'”

Me: “Okay, well, yes, we can certainly make something like that. However, because they’re a local business, like us, it’s a little bit of a sensitive issue. The last thing we want to do is upset anyone or burn any bridges. So, while I’m not saying that we CAN’T make this bumper sticker for you, I do need to check with the boss first, to ensure it’s something he’s comfortable with. Unfortunately, he’s out of the office at the moment, but if it’s all right with you, I can take down your information and have him call you when he returns?”

Customer: *Grumbles.* “Yes, fine, you do that.”

I proceed to fill out a work order and take down the customer’s contact info.

Me: “Okay, great, you’re all set. The boss should be back within the next one to two hours. I’ll get this in front of him, and have him reach out to you, so you should be expecting a call from him within that time frame. His name is Mike Taylorson Junior-”

Customer: *With eyes suddenly as wide as saucers.* “WHAT?!”

She proceeded to storm out as quickly as she’d entered, and I waved to her retreating back.

Me: “Would you still like me to have him call you?”

Related:
A Sign Of Things to Come, Part 2
A Sign Of Things to Come

Customer: “Can you staple these sheets together?”

Me: “How many is that?”

Customer: “Five sheets.”

It’s barely anything, so I just staple them together for her for free.

Customer: “Thanks!”

She walks away, and I consider that a good deed for the day. 

That is, until I’m called over to the copiers. This same lady has placed the stapled-together sheets into the copier and hit copy. The machine was jammed to f***.

Me: “Ma’am, why would you run five stapled-together sheets together through a copier?”

Customer: “I thought it would save me money! Get my sheets out! They’re my only copies and your copier has f***ed them up!”

No good deed goes unpunished…

I work in the copy center of a large office supply store. An older guy walks up to the copy center… and then just keeps going, straight behind the counter.

Me: “Sir, you can’t be back here. We have slicers and laminators. It’s a safety and liability issue.”

He stops, looks at me, and suddenly starts mocking me in a high, exaggerated voice.

Customer: “Ooooo, I might get hurt! Oh nooo, I touched the counter! I might bleed! So dangerous!”

He waves his arms around like he’s in a bad stage play. I just stand there, stunned at the immaturity.

He walks off… then comes back a minute later and does it again.

Customer: “Ooooo, better be careful! Don’t want to get a… paper cut!”

I was very young at the time and was still developing my Customer Service Thick Skin™, so by now I’m visibly upset.

Customer: “Oh, come on. Smile!”

Me: “No, sir, I will not smile. What you’re doing or saying isn’t funny.”

Customer: “Your generation can’t take a d*** joke.”

Me: “But we can follow safety procedures. Those may also seem like a joke to you, but I will not lose my job because you’re being an idiot and injuring yourself.”

Customer: “Oh, c’mon. What am I gonna do back there that’s sooooo bad?”

Me: “There’d be a risk of you chopping your d**k off if you had one.”

Customer: *Face suddenly overcome with apoplectic rage.*

Me: “What? Can’t take a d*** joke?”

My Customer Service Thick Skin™ levelled up that day!

I’m working on a photo editing project in the back when a coworker comes in from the shop floor.

Coworker: “Hey, [My Name], are we allowed to put marriage certificates into the shredder?”

Me: “Uh… why?”

Coworker: “The customer says she wants to turn it into confetti for New Year’s.”

Me: “I… don’t even want to know. Sure. Why not.”

Coworker: “Cool.” *Turns back to the door.* “Ma’am, my manager has approved your symbolic rebirth…”

A customer is making some copies at our print center. He comes over to me to check out. Naturally, I pick up his color copies so I can count how many he has.

Customer: *Immediately enraged.* “DON’T TOUCH THOSE! THEY’RE PRECIOUS FAMILY HEIRLOOMS!”

Shocked by his sudden outburst, I speak before I can catch myself:

Me: “Uh, well, no, these are copies of heirlooms.”

Customer: “No! I used the color copy, so I got some of the soul of the original in there! Don’t touch them!”

Me: “Well, okey dokey then!”

Since we don’t charge extra for souls, I just check how many copies he made from the machine log and charge him accordingly.

Oh, and the thing he was copying? An old newspaper page that contained two articles, one about a murderer being caught, and another about a man being arrested for wrestling an alligator in a zoo.

Related:
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 32
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 31
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 30
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 29
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 28