Needs To Find A New Outlet For Their Anger

, , , | Right | September 6, 2017

(I work at a discount store retailer one summer. I am working customer service and have this conversation.)

Caller: “Hi. I bought a lamp from you a week ago and it won’t turn on.”

Me: “Did you make sure the bulb is screwed in?”

Caller: “Yes. My husband also made sure it’s a new bulb.”

Me: “Are you sure?”

Caller: *going crazy in 0.3 seconds* “Are you calling me a liar?! You b****es think you’re so smart? Well, f*** you!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not calling you a liar. I’m just trying to solve your problem as quickly as I can.”

Caller: “Sorry. You can continue.”

Me: “Is the cord damaged at all?”

Caller: “No, nothing is wrong with it. It’s only unplugged.”

Me: “Ma’am, you have to plug the cord in.”

Caller: “Into what?”

Me: “The outlet, ma’am.”

Caller: “Oh, it works!”

Me: *internal sigh*

Caller: “Thank you!” *click*

Making A Mocha-ry Of Your Store

, , , | Right | September 6, 2017

(I work for a coffee shop that has the word “Mocha” in the name. The name is all over the inside of the shop, on the menus, the walls, and the merchandise. The following incidents happened on the same day to different people.)

Customer #1: “Excuse me, do you guys sell mochas here?”

Coworker #1: “…yes, we do, indeed, sell mochas at [Shop With Mocha in the Name].”

Customer #1: “Good, I didn’t see it on your menu.”

(It’s literally the first item. Later:)

Customer #2: “Do you know how to make a Mocha Latte?”

Coworker #2: “I wouldn’t be working here at [Shop With Mocha in the Name] if I didn’t.”

Customer #2: “Well, you’re new here, and I need to make sure it’s made correctly.”

Coworker #2: “I’ve only been working here since the shop opened three years ago, so, yeah, I guess you can call that ‘new’.”

Customer #2: “Well, usually a young [slur] man makes it for me, and he seems to know what he’s doing. I’ll come back at another time when he’s here. I just don’t think you could make it right.”

Coworker #2: “It’s chocolate, espresso, and steamed milk… kind of hard to mess that one up.”

Customer #2: “That doesn’t sound right; you’ll mess it up. I’ll come back later.”


Customer #3: “Can I get a mocha…” *long pause* “…white mocha.”

Coworker #3: “Sure. What size would you like?”

Customer #3: “Large, but I only want half the amount of each type of syrup.”

Coworker #3: “A white mocha only comes with one type of syrup.”

Customer #3: “I want a MOCHA WHITE MOCHA! I want both types of mocha. How stupid can you be? I want…” *very slowly and drawn out* “—two pumps of DARK MOCHA and two pumps of WHITE MOCHA. So, only FOUR pumps of syrup. It is ridiculous that you can’t take a simple order. I don’t know what’s so hard about making a mocha white…”

Coworker #3: “Here’s your drink, ma’am, have a nice day.”


Customer #4: “Can I have a [specialty drink]?”

Coworker #4: “Sure. What size?”

Customer #4: *looks around nervously and whispers* “I don’t know the name for a small.”

Coworker #4: “…it’s ‘small.'”

You’d Have To Pay Me To Eat There

, , , , | Working | September 5, 2017

(We live near a major university. Most fast food workers and all managers at this restaurant on campus are students supplementing their income. My husband and I go through the drive-thru for a snack.)

Cashier: “Your total is $8.”

(My husband hands him $23 so we can get $15 change. The cashier hits enter [exact change] on the register, so the screen does not tell him how much change to give us. He looks very confused.)

Cashier: “Um…” *hands husband $20*

Husband: “This is the wrong change; your till will be off.” *tries to hand cashier back the $20*

Cashier: “Um… just a moment.” *calls manager over, and we hear this through the window*

Cashier: “Their total was $8. They gave me $23. How much change should they get?”

Manager: “What did the register say?”

Cashier: “Uh, nothing. I hit enter.”

Manager: “I don’t have time to figure this out. I’ll comp it. Return their money.”

Cashier: *still does not take $20 husband tries to hand him* “Your order is on the house.” *hands my husband another $23*

(And that’s how we got paid to eat fast food by the restaurant manager.)

Telling Them Until You’re Blue In The Face

, , , , , | Right | September 5, 2017

(I am colorblind, but everyone calls me “Fire” because of my supposedly fire-red hair. I see a short woman trying to reach a shirt on a high shelf, and I am tall enough to reach it.)

Me: “Hello, ma’am, can I help you with that?”

Customer: “I need that blue shirt up there.”

(She waves up in the general direction.)

Me: “Which shirt?”

Customer: “It’s the only blue one up there!”

Me: “Ma’am, you’re going to need to be more specific than that. I’m colorblind.”

Customer: *obviously ignoring me* “It’s the ONLY BLUE SHIRT!”

Me: “Ma’am! I’m COLORBLIND! I can’t see blue!”

Customer: “I need to speak with you manager!”

(I go and fetch my manager, after telling him what had happened.)

Manager: “What seems to be the problem, miss?”

Customer: “She won’t get me that blue shirt!”

Manager: “My coworker has told you already that she is colorblind, and therefore cannot see the color blue.”

Customer: “It’s B-L-U-E! HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT?!”

Me: “It’s a medical condition, ma’am, I can’t see colors.”

Customer: *she turns to my manager* “You get it down!”

(He retrieves the shirt and looks at it.)

Manager: “You could have just told her that it was the shirt with a heart on the front. Or you could have LISTENED when she told you multiple times that she was colorblind. Now, will that be all today?”

Customer: “Yes.”

(The woman looks incredibly angry, but I take her over to check out, and she looks down at my name tag.)

Customer: “Fire? What kind of a name is that?”

Me: “It’s a nickname, ma’am, because of my red hair.”

Customer: “You said that you were colorblind! You’re a liar! How do you know that your hair is red?”

Me: “A lot of people have told me what color my hair is.”

Customer: “Oh…”

(She picks up her bag and walks out of the store.)

Manager: “Some people just have no clue how to listen.”

An Environmental Mess

, , , | Right | September 5, 2017

(A customer has purchased a small amount of items, enough to fit in one bag. However, they’re a little heavy and have somewhat sharp edges, so I go to double bag them.)

Customer: “No! Don’t do that!”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. The items are a little heavy; I don’t want the bag to break. Would you like me to separate them into two bags?”

Customer: “No! Only one bag! Save the environment!”

(I oblige and send the customer on her way. As she reaches the parking lot, I see the bag tear, and her items go everywhere. A second later she comes back in.)

Customer: “Your cheap bag broke! I had to chase my stuff down!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, would you like me to re-bag them?”

Customer: “Yes, but only use one bag. Save the environment!”

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