This story reminds me of my own. 

I’m a valet at a large restaurant and entertainment complex. A guy pulls up in a run-down car. I don’t want to state the make and model in case it makes me sound elitist; I’m not, but the usual cars we get at this place are easily worth twenty times more than this old, beaten-up thing.

I normally wouldn’t notice or care about such details, but I remember this car because of how he interacted with our manager:

Manager: “Can I have your keys, sir?”

Customer: “Why?”

Manager: “Because you’re in the valet lane. You want valet service, yes?”

Customer: “Yeah, but the engine is still running, just take over and drive her to the parking spot. I can go get her when I’m ready to leave.”

Note to those not in the valet world, when you get a customer who refers to their car as a ‘her, you’re likely about to deal with a tough character.

Manager: “Then you’ll need to go and park yourself too, sir. We only offer full valet service, not half.”

Customer: “But my house keys are on my key chain.”

Manager: “You can separate the keys if that makes you feel better.”

Customer: “Hmm. I don’t want you to have to do that. Fine, let one of your guys valet it, but can I get one of the White ones? Your Mexican guys look like they’ll make a copy of my key and try to steal stuff from my house.

Manager: “Sir, no offense, but if this is the car you’re driving, you probably shouldn’t worry about us wanting to steal anything from your house.”

Related:
Trust Is Key

A man approaches me at the dealership and asks if the general manager is available. When I tell him he is not, he then says:

Customer: “I need somewhere private. I have a Zoom call that I can’t miss. Let me use the general manager’s office.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but the general manager’s office is private. Customers aren’t allowed to use it.”

Customer: “But I’m a doctor.”

Me: “I understand, but I still can’t let you into someone else’s office. You’re welcome to use the customer lounge.”

Customer: “No, this is a confidential call. I need the private office.”

Me: “That office isn’t available.”

Customer: “But I’m a doctor!”

Me: “That doesn’t give me permission to let you use it.”

Customer: “Then get me your supervisor.”

I call over my supervisor and explain the situation.

Supervisor: “I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t use the general manager’s office.”

Customer: “But I’m a doctor.”

Supervisor: “Yes, we’ve established that. You can take the call in our customer lounge, but the private offices are for employees.”

Customer: “This is an important call! I need privacy!”

Supervisor: “Unfortunately, we don’t have a private room available for customers.”

Customer: “But I’m a doctor!”

Supervisor: “That doesn’t change our policy.”

Customer: “Then I want to speak to your manager.”

The manager directly beneath the general manager comes over. By now, the customer has apparently decided that his occupation is the master key to every locked door in the building.

Manager: “I’m told you’d like to use the general manager’s private office.”

Customer: “Yes. I’m a doctor, and I have an important Zoom call.”

Manager: “I’m sorry, but that office isn’t available for customer use.”

Customer: “Did you not hear me? I’m a doctor!”

Manager: “I heard you. The answer is still no.”

Customer: “Fine, because of missing this call, you might have cost someone their life!”

Manager: “You’re not a very good doctor if you leave a patient’s life hanging in the balance based on your ability to get a private space for a Zoom call in a car dealership, are you?”

The doctor scoffs and ends up taking the Zoom call in the customer lounge for everyone to hear.

From what I overhear, it is less about a patient’s life hanging in the balance and more about him shouting at some guy to help him make changes to his NFL fantasy football league because he doesn’t know how…

An old man wanders over to me and asks:

Customer: “Can you adjust my hearing aid for me?”

Me: “I can try! Are you having a particular issue?”

Customer: “I just need you to find the Jesus frequency.”

Me: “The… what now?”

Customer: “The Jesus frequency. Jesus talks to people, but on very specific frequencies.”

Me: “Okay?”

Customer: “And since hearing aids can be adjusted, I wanted you to search for the Jesus frequency.”

Me: “I don’t think I’m qualified for that kind of… uh… tune-up.”

Customer: “Yes, you are! Just have faith!”

Me: “I’m an atheist.”

Customer: “Then even more reason for you to hear Jesus!”

Me: “If you’re having trouble hearing people and things on Earth, I can help with that. Anything else, you need to go to your church.”

Customer: “Oh my poor child. You won’t find Jesus at a church!”

He was very pleasant and calm, but it did take me a while to convince him that I wouldn’t be able to find that specific frequency. I did tell him that the local Walmart and Costco have hearing aid centers, and he chose to go to Costco. Why? Because…

Customer: “I’m already a member, and Jesus wouldn’t ever be found in Walmart!”

I guess Jesus shops wholesale?

Customer: “Remake my drink!”

Me: “Uh, excuse me, miss, but what is wrong with it?”

Customer: “You made the wrong drink!”

Me: “You ordered a white chocolate mocha?”

Customer: “Yes! Exactly! But when you called my order out to your people, you said white mocha.”

Me: “Oh! Well, that’s just us saying things in shorthand to speed things along. White mocha is white chocolate mocha.”

Customer: “No. It’s the wrong drink because you didn’t say chocolate.”

I kindly explained to her, again, that they are the same drink. She, ever so tentatively, took the cup, took the tiniest sip, and said:

Customer: “No, it tastes weird. Can you make it for me again?”

Well, store policy says I have to remake the drink. My manager, who heard the whole thing from around the corner, comes over to me, “scolds” me for not jumping to remake the drink, and says to the customer:

Manager: “Don’t worry, I’ll make it right.”

My manager takes the cup back, runs a cleaning cycle on the Mastrena (our espresso machine), and pours her drink into a different cup.

Manager: “Here you go, ma’am, a white chocolate mocha.”

Would you believe this girl sips it, swoons, and says:

Customer: “It’s perfect!”

And then she walks away elated.

Customer: “Can I return this?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry. You’re in the wrong store; this shirt is from Forever 21.”

Customer: “Aren’t you sister companies?”

Me: “No. We have a Forever 21 in the mall if you want to—”

Customer: “—I can’t walk all the way there; you can’t just take it and put it in the store?”

Me: “No, we don’t carry Forever 21 clothing. We’re our own brand.”

Customer: “You can’t give me the money and then take it over there for me and do the refund for me?

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Can I at least—”

Me: “—YOU’RE IN THE WRONG STORE. What I am doing right now is already the most, let alone the least!”

That finally sent her away!