I’m using a prepaid phone and bought two cards at the mall so I could top up my account. The first card went through without a problem, and I set it aside in my wallet to scratch off the second one. At the time, I was so sleep-deprived from the holiday rush and bout of depression from two of my indoor/outdoor cats dying during the New Year celebrations that I was on autopilot.

I somehow managed to put the second card aside and slept, woke up four hours later, and tried to top the second card up. I kept getting an error message saying the service was unavailable and that I should check my account. I was sure I only topped one card up. I checked and the expiration date was still good, so I contacted customer service.

It took an hour with me waiting for the agent to reply once every three minutes and then put me on hold for so long that at one point I was on hold for fifteen minutes. I worked at a call center before, and everything about this was just so bad that if I hadn’t been so fatigued I would have been that yelling, cursing customer. In the end, I just resignedly asked if I needed to bring my receipt and the actual card with me to the store. The agent said that would be best and ended the call.

I had a free card that had a value of a fifth of the amount of the problem card, so I started rummaging in the card section of my wallet for it, went to get a coin, and lo and behold… the card I hadn’t used was in my coin purse, folded like a bill.

I had become that customer.

To the poor agent, I am so sorry. There was no chance of you resolving a problem when there was none but my stupidity.

Many years ago, while moving from Texas to Florida, my family and I pulled into a gas station for a break. We were driving a twenty-eight-foot moving truck, so getting in and out of places was very hard. As we tried to pull out of the gas station and rejoin traffic, no one would let us in.

Finally, a man on a motorcycle sped in front of us, stopped, and got off his bike, holding out both arms to stop traffic so that we could get out.

It was like something out of a movie, and it was a very cool move on his part!

On a busy Friday night, we have a line of customers at the pickup window at my family’s pizzeria where I am the manager. I usually take care of the customers because I know most people’s names and orders so I can get them out quickly.

A man in his fifties is the last in line at the moment. He waits his turn, looking annoyed the whole time. Then, he comes up to pick up his order. He tells me it’s under “Theresa.”

We have two ticket rails for orders that are currently being prepared, and we have completed orders on top of the pizza oven to keep them hot.

The rest of the staff are busy either on the phone or preparing other orders, so I squeeze through and start looking for his order on top of the oven (ten to fifteen orders). After not finding it on top of the oven, I begin to look through the tickets that are currently cooking (twenty to thirty orders).

It’s a small place where you can see our entire kitchen, and the whole time I am looking, he keeps repeating:

Customer: “It’s under Theresa! Theresa! It’s a large [pizza] with a side of wings!”

Me: *Politely* “I am working on it, as you can see.”

I get through all the orders and there is no Theresa.

Me: “May I ask for your name to see if maybe she put it under that?”

Customer: *Agitated* “No chance! It’s definitely under Theresa! We order from you all the time!”

This happens a lot; one person will call the order in and put it under the name of the person picking it up. Usually, we get it figured out pretty fast, although some people have a hard time believing their food could be under a different name if their family/friend put it in. Weird.

I tell him we don’t have an order for Theresa and ask him again for his name. 

Customer: *Almost screaming at this point* “ROBERT!”

Me: “I don’t have an order for Robert. Is it possible you called another restaurant? That happens sometimes. There is another place across town with a similar—”

Customer: “No! We called you! We always call you! Are you an idiot?! How hard is it to find our order?!”

He pulls out his phone, calls the number he used to order the pizza, shoves the phone in my face, and says, “Look!” Then, he points to our phone, expecting it to ring. 

Not. Our. Number.

The phone doesn’t ring. 

Me: “Who’s the idiot now, Bobby?”

Got in his car and sped off. Haven’t seen him since.

I work in the ticket windows at a major theme park. A guest comes to my window with a boy of about six in tow.

Guest: *Pointing to the boy* “We forgot this one’s annual pass. Can we get a new copy?”

Me: “Of course, what’s the name on the pass?”

Guest: “David Smith.”

Since the pass is for someone clearly too young to have an ID to match it to, I search for the name “David Smith” and establish that I have the correct pass by verifying the phone number and email address on file. I’m given the correct information, so I finish the process and print a new pass.

Me: *Handing the new pass directly to the boy* “Here you go, kiddo! Maybe have Dad help you keep closer track of it this time, okay?”

He looks at his pass, and then he looks like he’s about to cry.

Boy: “But my name is Wyatt.”

Guest: “Why did you reprint David’s pass?”

Me: “Because you said the pass you needed belonged to David Smith.”

Guest: “No, David Smith paid for it. But the pass is for Wyatt Jones. So why did you reprint David’s?”

Me: “Because I didn’t ask you who paid for it. I asked whose pass it was.”

I start the process over, searching for and verifying the correct pass this time.

Guest: “There’s a difference?”

Me: “Well, unless Wyatt paid for his own annual pass, yes, there is a massive difference.”

Guest: “But I pointed to Wyatt when we forgot his pass. Shouldn’t you have known to look for his pass?”

Me: “How?”

Guest: “How what?”

Me: “How would I have known to look for Wyatt’s pass when the only name you gave me was David?”

He opens and closes his mouth several times. I seem to have stumped him. His wife, however, turns out to be just out of my sight and she understands exactly where he went wrong. She tells him so in ways I only wish I could while being on the clock. I hand him Wyatt’s pass.

Me: “Here is the pass you actually needed. Please make sure to give David his new pass before he visits again and explain to him why the one he has no longer works. Have a nice day.”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but his wife moved him along with an apologetic glance, still giving him grief.

Related:
Behind Every Wrong Customer Is A Long-Suffering Wife

I was working in a popular amusement park in Florida and was standing out front of the building with all the robot presidents. 

Guest: “Excuse me, do you know where the Hallway of Politicians is?”

Me: “Certainly! It’s right behind me.”

Guest: “No, that’s not it.”

I stood there, blinking, and then turned to look to make sure someone hadn’t stolen the building while I wasn’t looking. 

Nope, it was still there, the “Hallway of Politicians” sign right there in big letters attached to the front of the building.

Me: “Well, if you figure out where it is, could you let me know? I’m supposed to be standing in front of it.”

The guest wandered off, and I didn’t see them again.