In 1979, I got a call one afternoon at my accounting office from a medical clinic thirty miles west of me.

Clerk #1: “We need a payment on your bill. It is ninety days past due and will be turned over to collections soon if you don’t make a payment.”

Me: “Who was treated at your clinic?”

Clerk #1: “Your wife had an appointment with our OBGYN.”

Me: “And when was this appointment?”

Clerk #1: “In February.”

Me: “Well, that is not my responsibility.”

Clerk #1: “Your wife gave us your name as the responsible party.”

Me: “Well, you see, our divorce was final last December, and I don’t believe I am responsible.”

Clerk #1: “You will need to send us a copy of your divorce decree to clear this up.”

And I complied.

In May, I got a call from a clothing store in a town about fifty miles southwest of me.

Clerk #2: “Sir, you must make a payment on your account.”

Me: “Who are you?”

Clerk #2: “We are [Women’s Clothing Store], and you have an account that is gravely past due.”

Me: “Where are you located?”

Clerk #2: “[Town].”

Me: “And when were these clothes put on my account?”

Clerk #2: “Your wife charged over $500 in clothes in March and listed you, her husband, as the responsible person.”

Me: “Well, gee! I don’t think that is the case since we were divorced last December.”

Clerk #2: “You will need to send us a copy of your divorce decree.”

Me: “Not going to happen. This is not the first time she has done this. It is not my fault you did not check with me before you set this up and let her leave with the clothes. If you want a copy of my divorce, then you call the clerk of the district court in my county and pay for your own copy. That is your responsibility, not mine.”

I’m a young male working behind the counter of a well-known clothing store. A young woman walks up with who I assume is her boyfriend since he’s got an arm around her.

Me: “Hi. How can I help—”

Before I can even finish, she grabs the guy by the collar and begins hardcore making out with him, all with overly nasty, wet noises and sloppy tongue action that I feel like I would expect from a comedy flick. I stand there dumbfounded, trying to figure out what’s going on. She then finishes and nearly pushes the guy off. She turns to me and gives me a very smug look. And I’m just wishing she would wipe her face.

Woman: “See? That’s how a real man kisses his girlfriend!”

Me: “Uh… okay?”

Woman: “Bet you wish you were him, huh?”

Me: “I’m sorry, did you need help with anything?”

Woman: *Gives an exaggerated scoff* “Please! I have him now! I don’t need you anymore!”

Me: “Do I… Do I know you or something?”

She’s about to say something but stops and begins staring at me with a puzzled look. She looks down at my name tag and goes bright red. She whispers something to her boyfriend and then quickly runs off, leaving us both in awkward silence.

Guy: “So, uh… She mistook you for her ex and forced me to come in here and make him jealous. I guess she saw you yesterday while shopping and was certain you were him. To be fair you do look a lot like him.”

Me: “I see…” *Motioning to his chin* “You got a little something there.”

Guy: *Wiping his face with his hand* “Thank you.”

He walked away awkwardly. I decided it was time to take my break.

I start getting phone calls from a doctor’s office for my ex-husband. My ex-husband and I have been divorced for ten years at this point. They keep leaving voicemails for him to call back.

Receptionist: “My name is [Receptionist], and I’m calling from [Doctor]’s office, trying to reach [Ex-Husband]. Please give us a call back.”

I have not been in contact with my ex-husband in several years, and he changes numbers all the time, so I have no way of getting in touch with him.

The next week, I get another voicemail.

Receptionist: “Hi, [Ex-Husband]. This is [Receptionist] calling from [Doctor]’s office. I need you to give me a call back today.”

The doctor’s office always seems to call when I am at work. By the time I get off work, they are already closed so I cannot call them back to tell them they have the wrong number.

The next week, I have another voicemail, and it is the same as the previous ones. 

I tell my coworkers I am going to take a ten-minute break to attend to some important business, and I call the doctor’s office back.

Receptionist: “[Receptionist] speaking.”

Me: “Hi, [Receptionist]. I have been receiving phone calls from you. You are trying to get in touch with [Ex-Husband], and I am calling to tell you that this is not his number.”

Receptionist: “Okay, thank you for letting us know. I’ll make a note in his file.”

The next week, the doctor’s office calls again.

Receptionist: “Hi, [Ex-Husband], this is [Receptionist] calling you from [Doctor]’s office. We need to give us a call back.”

I manage to call them back, and I tell them the same thing. Again, I am told they will make a note of it and remove it from the file.

But they don’t do it for the next three weeks. I still continue to receive calls for my ex-husband. I call back one more time, and this time, I ask to speak to the office manager.

Me: “I am receiving phone calls for [Ex-Husband], and I have told your staff members that this is not his number. They have told me they will make a note in the file and remove the number.”

Office Manager: “Oh, I am so sorry about that. Let me get into his file. Are you [My Name]?”

Me: “Yes.”

Office Manager: “He has you listed as an emergency contact.”

Me: “We have been divorced for many, many years. I don’t know why he would have it listed. I also don’t know how to reach him as we haven’t spoken in many years.”

Office Manager: “Oh, we need to speak with him about an urgent financial matter.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I do not know how to get a hold of him.”

Office Manager: “Okay, we will remove you from his file.”

A few months later, I tried to finance a new car and, to my horror, there was a negative mark on my credit file. And guess what it was? The doctor’s office bill!

I got the original bill, and it was only in my ex’s name. I had to fax my divorce decree over to the collection agency, and I also sent it to the doctor’s office. It was removed from my credit file. 

I don’t know why they put me on this bill as we are divorced and I am not obligated to any of his bills. When I told them we were divorced, that should have been a clue! 

I also don’t have a clue why he would list me as an emergency contact. He probably just did it so they would call me since he changed numbers frequently and had no intention of paying that $100 bill.

A guy comes into the auto shop, having driven up in a car with a sizeable dent on the side.

Customer: “Please see what you can do about… that.” *Gestures to the dent*

Me: “Sure thing, but what happened?”

Customer: “My ex-boyfriend drove my car to his job at a store. After his shift, he got drunk with his knucklehead coworkers and thought it would be fun to play destruction derby with my car in the empty parking lot.”

Me: “Ouch, that hurts.”

Customer: “Tell me about it.”

I can tell this is not going to be cheap. Usually, to soften the blow, I engage in small talk with the customers.

Me: “So, why did you let him use your car if he’s your ex?”

Customer: “Well… he wasn’t my ex at the time.”

Ouch! When driving causes a break-up you know it has to be bad. We wonder how others fared in these 12 Stories About Customers Who Should Not Be Allowed To Drive!

I am a manager working the front desk at a hotel that is currently hosting a large wedding. I see a woman in a red dress being escorted out of the reception space, along with some of the groomsmen. A groomsman and a member of security approach me.

Groomsman: “This woman is not a guest of the wedding and is not to be allowed in the ballroom.”

Woman: “This is a public space! I’m allowed to be here!”

Me: “Ma’am, this is a hotel, not a public space. The ballroom is hired for a private event, so if you’re not a guest, you’re not allowed in there.”

Woman: “I have every right to be there! That b**** stole my man, and I have every right to fight to get him back!”

It is now obvious this woman has been drinking.

Groomsman: “For God’s sake, [Woman], you broke up seven years ago!”

Woman: “He was supposed to come back to me!”

Groomsman: “You dumped him!“

Woman: “To teach him a lesson!”

Groomsman: “He learned it! Stay away from red flags!”

Security: *To the groomsman* “We’ll take it from here, sir. Please go back inside and enjoy the party.”

The groomsman heads back inside, and the security guard tries to direct the woman toward the exit.

Woman: “Wait! You said I’m not allowed in the ballroom, but I can get a drink in the lobby bar, right?”

Me: “Ma’am, I can think of no other reason you would want to do that except to try to sneak back into the ballroom or try to ambush the wedding guests when they leave. I would recommend you leave the hotel for this evening.”

Woman: “But what if I was a guest?! Then you wouldn’t be able to kick me out!”

Me: “Ma’am, even if we weren’t fully booked tonight, which we are, we also have the discretion to refuse service to those who have caused or might cause a disturbance. I’m afraid you currently fall under the former and present a risk of falling under the latter. Now, we do have a responsibility, still, and based on my experience, you appear to have been drinking. I am happy to call a cab for you to take you home.”

Woman: “I’m not leaving, and you can’t make me!”

Me: “Then your cab will have some flashing lights on the top, ma’am.”

She sits on the floor cross-legged, like a toddler being stubborn. The security guard just looks at me.

Me: “It’s okay; I’ll handle it.”

I call the police and then get a clerk to put out some “hazard” signs that we usually put on the floor when there is a spill. The woman looks ridiculous but remains in place.

The police eventually show, and the woman gets an eye-widening “Oh, s***!” look on her face as she realizes she has taken this too far. The police talk to me, and I confirm what has happened. As the woman is escorted from the lobby, I can hear a shrill, “But he was supposed to choose meeeeeeee!” slowly fade away.

The groomsman later comes out and gives the security guy and me a tip for our troubles, and he gives us some context.

Groomsman: “Yeah, that’s the crazy ex. She came here to cause trouble when she realized he was really going through with it.”

Me: “That’s dramatic! I’m glad we were able to help, though. I hope the bride and groom are having a great time.”

Groomsman: “It’s a groom and groom, actually.”

I can’t help but show a quick look of confusion before the groomsman helps me out.

Groomsman: “Yeah, she was so crazy that she ‘red-flagged’ him into coming out!”

This story is part of our Editors’-Favorite-Stories-Of-2023-(so far!) roundup!

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