Account Is More Frozen Than An Unpaid Freezer

, , , , | Right | November 22, 2017

Me: “[Company], how can I help you?”

Customer: “Yes, this is [Store], and someone is here to pick up the freezer from your company.”

Me: *looks up customer info* “Yes, it looks like it is being picked up due to low sales.”

Customer: “I don’t understand! No one has come to my location to place the order in months!”

Me: “Let me check… It looks like I personally have been calling you since July. It’s October now, and I haven’t been able to reach anyone. That’s why we closed your account and put in a freezer pick-up.”

Customer: “That is ridiculous! I haven’t seen anyone in months to take an order!”

Me: “Ma’am, we have been trying to call you to take an order over the phone. Is your phone number [number]?”

Customer: “YES!”

Me: “Then I have been calling the correct number for months now and leaving voicemails.”

Customer: “Oh, I don’t check voicemail. Why are you closing my account?”

It All Boils Down To Stupidity

, , , , , | Right | November 20, 2017

(I am working in customer service, taking calls from customers with questions about our product line, how to cook, etc. A woman calls to complain about our BREADED chicken fingers.)

Me: “Good afternoon. How may I help you?”

Caller: “I want to complain about your chicken fingers. They’re awful; even my dog won’t eat them!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am. Which product did you purchase?”

(The caller gives me the product code, etc. They are breaded chicken fingers, meant to be baked or deep-fried only. The instructions are clearly on the box.)

Me: “Which method of cooking did you use?”

Caller: “I boiled them!”

Me: “Excuse me, boiled? In water?”

Caller: “Yes.”

Me: “Ma’am, they are breaded chicken fingers; you can’t boil them. They are to be deep-fried or baked only.”

Caller: “Well, I boil everything.”

Me: “I’m sorry. You cannot boil chicken fingers, because the breading will come off and turn to mush.”

Caller: “Well, you should say that on your product boxes.”

Me: “…?”

Highway To Heaven

, , , | Right | November 7, 2017

(I work at the customer service desk answering phones, giving directions, etc. I see a customer taking one of my manager’s business cards.)

Me: “Hi, is there something I can help you with? I noticed you taking a card, and wanted to make sure everything’s all right.”

Customer: “No, no, I just wanted to take one of the cards. I picked this one because it has the number written in.”

Me: “All right. That’s the card for our leasing representative, just so you know.”

Customer: “Oh, I won’t call it or anything. I just like to have it. Thank you. What’s your name?”

Me: “It’s [My Name].”

Customer: “Oh, that’s a beautiful name. You remind me of a beautiful girl named [My Name] who went to [University].”

(I smile, figuring it to be a compliment.)

Customer: “Her boyfriend broke up with her one night over the phone. She went out and got drunk and got on the highway going the wrong way and died.”

Me: *smile frozen on my face now* “Wow, that’s… awful.”

Customer: “Have a good day!”

Very Human Resources

, , , , , | Right | November 3, 2017

(I’m answering phones for a big department store when I get this interesting call.)

Me: “Hello, thank you for calling [Store]. This is [My Name] speaking. What can I help you with today?”

Guest: “Can I speak to a human?”

Me: *pauses* “Yes.”

Guest: “Oh, is this a human?”

Me: “Yes, my name is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Guest: “Is your store working today?”

Me: “Yes, it is.”

Guest: “Like, can I go in and shop?”

Me: “Again, yes.”

Guest: “Well, thank you, human.”

Me: “Thank you for calling. Have a good day.”

Human Rights Explained By A Human Gone Wrong

, , , | Right | November 2, 2017

(I am a manager working on a department store’s main service desk. I have been completing paperwork for the past ten minutes when I notice a young gentleman come up to me and stare.)

Me: “Is there anything I can help you with, sir?”

(No response.)

Me: “Sir?”

(Still no response. I decide to just ignore him, as he seems a bit weird, and get on with my work. Over the next ten to fifteen minutes, he inches closer to me. I’m a little creeped out, so I turn my back on him. A little while later I turn back to grab my stapler and see him right up against the counter. I stare at him as I reach for the stapler, when he grabs it.)

Me: “Sir, could I please have that? It does not belong to you.”

(No response.)

Me: “Sir, please.”

(He still says nothing, but reluctantly hands over the stapler. I turn back, staple what I need, and finally decide to address him.)

Me: “Sir, if there is nothing I can help you with, and you do not intend to shop today, I am going to have to ask you to leave.”

(This sets him off. His eyes turn murderous as he screams.)


(The gentleman then sprinted out of the store. I got a call from my manager a month later regarding a 57-page essay sent to her about how I had infringed the gentleman’s basic human rights, referencing laws from all around the world to support his argument. After I explained what happened, she was just as confused as I was.)

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