I used to work as a logistics and shipping coordinator for a big novelty and party supplies company. Most of our novelties were manufactured in the Far East and, as such, were shipped to us on container ships.

When the Suez Canal was blocked by the grounded Evergiven, we had some stock on boats that were stuck behind it and would therefore be delayed. As a coordinator, it was my job to inform our customers that due to the grounded ship, our boats were running late and stock would be delayed.

Most of the customers were fine with it, some of them even responding to me with memes about the boat. One customer, however, decided this was unacceptable and phoned me to yell at me that he needed his stock by the original date we had promised him and it was IMPERATIVE that we got it to him.

I apologised for the delay and said the situation was beyond our control, but as soon as the stock was available, we could get it overnighted to him — which would cost him extra because overnight freight isn’t cheap.

He absolutely lost his mind, swore at me for being incompetent, and hung up. I shrugged and went on with my day. Being yelled at by angry customers is part of the job.

Twenty minutes later, I got a call from our head of sales.

Head Of Sales: “I just spoke to Mr. [Customer]. He said you told him he couldn’t have his order?”

Me: “No, he called me to complain about his stock being stuck behind the grounded ship, and I said we would overnight it to him as soon as it landed. Somehow, that’s not good enough. I can’t do any more.”

Head Of Sales: “That’s fine. Leave it with me.”

I hung up and got on with my day (again).

After about forty minutes of relative quiet, I got up to make a coffee. Our senior Vice President of sales came into the kitchen looking extremely ruffled.

Me: “Are you okay? Do you want me to make you a coffee, too?”

Senior VP Of Sales: “I just spoke to Mr. [Customer]. He has demanded that we get his stock that’s stuck behind the grounded boat to him tomorrow, or he’ll never trade with us again.”

I would love to know how the customer expected us to get the stock off the boat and to him the next day, but I wrote it off as just another unreasonable customer and thought no more of it.

The next morning, I got a call at precisely 8:01 am. We open at 8:00 am.

Customer: “WHERE IS MY CONTAINER?!”

Me: “Still in the Suez Canal, sir. As I explained to you yesterday, your stock is on the [Vessel], which is stuck behind the Evergiven, and—”

Customer: “GET ME YOUR MANAGER! I WANT YOU FIRED!”

I put him straight through to the sales VP and went to make a cup of tea.

When I got back to my desk, the VP was sitting on the end of it, looking extremely ruffled… again.

Senior VP Of Sales: “That man seriously expected me to somehow get his container off the boat, get it to the UK, and get it to his warehouse by 5:00 pm today. Does he not watch the news?”

I kept my mouth shut and got on with some work. My day was mostly answering emails from customers politely wondering if we had any updates on our stuck vessels and any new docking dates. I updated them as best I could and advised that they also keep an eye on the news and social media for updates about the grounded ship. My day was mercifully free of the demanding customer.

Until…

At 4:59 pm, my phone rang again.

Customer: “WHERE IS MY CONTAINER?!”

Dude, seriously?!

I’m an admin at a construction company. My supervisor — the site manager — and I share an office that is separate from the main area of the job trailer. My desk is visible from the door because it is my responsibility to handle the day-to-day tasks and people need to know where I am, but my supervisor’s desk is against the wall beside the door, not visible unless you walk in. We have four trailers onsite: ours, three subcontractors, and the customer, all with large signs on the front and side of each trailer marking which trailer is which.

A delivery driver comes into our trailer and calls out.

Driver: “Hey, I have a shipment here!”

I walk out of the office.

Me: “Coming! Who is it for?”

Driver: “[Subcontractor]. Sign here.”

Me: “Oh, sorry, that goes to the next trailer.”

I point in the direction of the subcontractor’s trailer about ten feet from ours.

Driver: “I just need a signature, ma’am.”

Me: “No problem. You just have to take it to the building beside this one. It has a [Subcontractor] sign on the door.”

Driver: *Irritated* “Okay, sweetheart. Just sign so I can get going.”

Me: *Firmly* “No. You need to deliver it to the proper location.” *Points to the shipping label* “It says right here that it goes to the [Subcontractor] trailer.”

Driver: “Look, honey, I don’t have time for this s***. If you’re rejecting the delivery, then—”

My supervisor comes out of the office.

Supervisor: “Listen, man! She’s not rejecting it; she’s telling you you’re in the wrong place. Get your f****** head out of your f****** a** and walk ten more feet to the next door.”

The driver stands in silent shock.

Supervisor: “Go!”

The driver pales and walks out without another word. [Supervisor] puts his hands on my shoulders and shakes me gently while he groans. 

Supervisor: *Laughing* “[My Name]! Why are people so stupid?”

Me: *Laughing* “I’m sorry! I was trying to tell him; he just wasn’t listening.”

Supervisor: “I know. It’s not your fault. I won’t allow the workers to talk to you like that; I sure won’t let some random person do it.”

Me: “Thank you.”

I do swear now and then but normally only when I do something tremendously stupid. I’m not bothered by other people swearing if that’s their thing, but I really appreciated [Supervisor] coming in and taking care of business.

We did report the driver to the company and were told it was taken care of internally. I haven’t seen him since, so I don’t know if he was reassigned or outright fired.

I’ve just been laid off from a job, and I need to ship some equipment back to the company. They sent a QR code and instructions to bring the items to a [Shipping Company] office location, where the staff will scan the code and take care of packaging up the items as well as actually shipping them.

I’ve never used a service like that, so when I get there, I open with this as I speak to the guy at the desk.

Me: “Hi! I’ve got this QR code to scan, and I’m told you provide the packaging service as well as the shipping. Does that sound right?”

Guy: “No.”

Me: “Oh, no?”

Guy: “We only do the shipping. You have to package it.”

Me: “Oh. Let me double-check the email.”

Guy: “Well, let me scan the code. Each company does it differently.”

He scans the code, types into the computer for about a minute and a half, scans the code again, and then gets a tape measure and begins measuring the items.

Me: “So… you are handling the packaging?”

Guy: “Yup.”

Me: “Why did you say no?”

Guy: *Coldly* “I told you, every company’s setup is different.”

Me: “Then perhaps ‘maybe’ would have been a better answer?”

Guy: “Mmmm… No, I like the word I used.”

Me: “Oh. Uh… I don’t.”

Guy: “Okay.”

He finishes with the items and gives me my receipt. I notice that it says, “Number of pieces: 1.”

Me: “Sorry, is ‘number of pieces’ the number of packages or the number of items in the packages?”

Guy: “Number of items.”

Me: “Okay, I just noticed that it says one piece on the receipt, but there were two.”

Guy: “There’s only one package.”

Me: “…Have a great day.”

CONTENT WARNING: Gross imagery.

In college I worked at a FedEx hub loading eighteen-wheelers. Part of the load are two buckets that are very heavy and should not have been put through the regular sorting system. Sadly… they were, and they spilled.

Two five-gallon buckets of bull sperm. Spilled.

Let me tell you to this day as a mom and former day-care worker I have never smelled anything as foul as ten gallons of bull sperm in an un-air-conditioned warehouse in the middle of a Pennsylvania summer.

I am working in a courier store, and we have several employees working with customers, me included. My coworkers have smaller lines than I do, but I notice a very old customer come in and purposefully get in my line.

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am, I am dealing with a complicated order at the moment, so you’ll likely be served quicker by one of my coworkers.”

Customer: “I’m in the line I need to be in.”

Ominous, but okay. The customer finally gets to me, and I start processing her delivery.

Customer: “You really need to have more local people working here so I don’t have to wait so long.”

Me: “Local?”

Customer: “Yes! Local people, like you! White people!”

Wow.

Yes, she actually said that. She got in my line because I am the only white employee working the counters today.

Me: “Well, ma’am, I’m actually not local. I’m from Germany and I moved here—”

Customer: “What?! You’re a German?!”

Me: “I moved here fifteen years ago, but I’m not local so—”

Customer: “This is unacceptable. I should be able to come here and be served by an American! You’re lying to the American people by just standing there making us think you’re one of us!”

I have heard of these kinds of people, but I never thought they were real.

Me: “I’m not lying to anyone, ma’am. I am simply working my job like everyone else. However, if you’re set on being served by someone born in the USA, that is literally everyone else here except for me.”

The customer looks around at my mostly Asian and Black coworkers and realizes she has put herself into a racist bind.

Customer: “No one here is a local!”

My manager, who is Asian, interjects.

Manager: “Ma’am, just say you’re a racist bigot instead of using the word ‘local’. You’re not welcome here.”

Customer: “This is America, and I demand to be served by an American!”

Manager: “I am an American, and I am refusing you service.”

Customer: “What is this country coming to?! When I was younger, everyone was local to this country!”

Manager: “Ma’am, when you were younger this was a colony, not a country. Go away.”

The customer huffed but finally left. Ageist? Maybe. Hilarious? Definitely.