It’s my birthday, and I am working the guest services desk at a department store. I’m helping another guest with something and see one of my coworkers escorting this fifty-something-year-old man, who looks livid as h***, to the desk. He slams the bag he is carrying down on the desk.

Customer: “I have a pick-up order!”

I decide to not match his energy; it is my birthday, and dang it, I am going to be happy! I’m about as cordial and polite as possible with this hollering man, who is literally hollering for no reason, as I try to get his pick-up barcode to scan or have him get out his ID to look up his name. He gives me his name and his wife’s name (two different last names) and neither shows up when I look them up.

He is increasingly getting more pissed as I make sure I’ve spelled the names right, try to see if my device is malfunctioning, etc. I finally ask:

Me: “Sir, are you sure you placed the pick-up for our location?”

Customer: “Of course, I did! I come here all the time! This is [Other Store Location], isn’t it?!”

Me: *With the politest smile I can manage* “No, sir, this is the [Our Store] location.”

The way he stared at me with his mouth agape, his ego crumbling, and his world absolutely falling apart as he stammered and asked where [Other Store Location] was, while I calmly smiled the whole time, was better than any gift I could have received. He walked out without another word.

I’m still waiting for the inevitable bad review, but management likes me, so they won’t believe whatever he comes up with that I “did” to cause this.

Me: “IT helpdesk, how can I help you?”

Client: “Hi. I’m calling because there’s a strange thing on my screen.”

Me: “Strange? What do you mean? Is there a display problem? An error message?”

Client: “Yes, there’s an error message saying, ‘Windows, blah, blah, blah.’ See what I mean?”

Me: “Errr… not really. Okay, I’ll try to remotely access your computer. Can you give me the inventory number, which is on the yellow sticker?”

Client: “You mean the serial number?”

Me: “No, the inventory number. It’s on the yellow sticker stating, ‘Inventory Number.'”

Client: “It’s 1-A234…”

Me: “No, no, no. That’s the serial number; that’s on the grey sticker that says ‘Serial Number.’ I need you to read me what’s on the yellow sticker.”

Client: “Do you want the serial number or the inventory number, then?”

Me: “…The inventory number.”

Client: “Oh, you should have said so at the beginning!”

I am the supervisor in a tax office, and I double as a receptionist.

Client: “Can I get an advance on my refund? How does the loan work?“

Me: “Well, it’s an application, and it’s not guaranteed; there’s a chance it’ll be denied. If you are accepted, you can get a portion of your tax return as a loan. When your return comes in, it’ll pay the loan off and the remainder will go to your account. There’s no interest, and it’s a great way to boost your credit score a little.“

Client: “So, instead of waiting for the eight to twenty-one business days, I can wait for three days or so?“

Me: “Yes — that is, if you are accepted. Remember, it’s not 100% guaranteed, but we like to get people their money early if we can.“

Client: “Yeah, yeah, but I can get my money sooner and all I have to do is apply?“

Me: “Yes. If your loan application is accepted. If not, then you wait the standard time. Cannot guarantee it.“

Client: “Okay.”

The client is denied a loan and submits a survey. She gives us our first four-out-of-five so far; before, we had perfect fives. This brings our percentage score down from 100 to the high 90s. This is what she comments on the survey:

Client: “It wasn’t explained that I could be denied the refund loan. Don’t plan on returning. Explain the process.”

I add a note to the survey in our file.

Me: “Client was informed by supervisor of the possibility of loan rejection three times and by tax preparer two times.“

We’ve all been there: you ask, “Are you doing A or are you using B?” and they answer, “Yes.” Cue your face hitting the desk and you wondering how people like that are able to hold a job.

We have a bot to reset passwords or unlock accounts. Since we’re a big company and these are common issues that don’t require IT knowledge to troubleshoot, you’d think an AI would be more than enough to handle those tickets. Well, AI has “intelligence” in its name. Some users are missing it in their brains.

A user walks over to me for help.

User: “Can you help me unlock my account?”

Me: “You can use the bot for that. I’ll send you the link.”

User: “I’m using it, but it doesn’t seem to work.”

I’m puzzled, so I go take a look at his screen. The conversation is still open.

Bot: “How may I assist you?”

User: “UNLOCK”

Bot: “Can you confirm you want me to unlock your account?”

User: “YES”

Bot: “I’m going to ask you some security questions to confirm your identity. Are you ready?”

User: “YES”

Bot: “Please confirm your username.”

User: “YES”

Bot: “I’m sorry, I cannot verify your details. Please provide your username.”

User: “YES”

Bot: “I’m sorry, I cannot verify your details. Please provide your username.”

User: “YES”

Bot: “I’m sorry, I cannot verify your details. Please provide your username.”

I just look at him straight with a look on my face that says, “Are you really that stupid, or are you just pretending?”

Me: “Are you incapable of reading or what?”

I have an allergy to milk and cheese products — actually an allergy to one of the milk proteins. I’ve learned to avoid certain foods that may have milk or cream (such as batter for fried foods and most baked goods), and I’ve learned to tell my servers I have an allergy and ask if anything in the dish has cheese, milk, or cream. A lot of times, I’ll take my chance and figure if it does have something with cheese, I’ll just skip that food on my plate. Many restaurants will list ingredients or describe their food, but many don’t.

On one occasion, I ordered a breakfast plate.

Me: “Are there any cheese or milk items in this dish?”

Server: “No.”

When it was brought to the table, it had cheese grits. But instead of being on a plate, where I could push it to the side, it was in a bowl, so there was no way to avoid it. I had to send it back.

The manager came out.

Manager: “What’s the problem here?”

I explained my allergy.

Manager: “All grits are cheese grits, so you should have known not to order that dish.”

Me: “I have indeed had grits made other ways. Your description said, ‘grits,’ not ‘cheese grits,’ and I specifically asked my server if there were any cheese items in the dish.”

But still, it was somehow my fault for ordering the wrong thing!

The worst problem in restaurants is with salads. I think the kitchen is so used to just sprinkling cheese on top. Generally, restaurants will describe every single item in a salad but won’t mention cheese. I’ve learned to ask for no cheese and explain that I have an allergy. Often, the server will then say, “That comes with ranch; is that okay?” Ummmm, no. Ranch is made with buttermilk. What part of “milk allergy” did you not understand?

Once at an Italian restaurant, after making sure there was no cheese on the salad, I noticed something white all over the salad when I got it. Come to find out, their dressing had Parmesan cheese. Sigh.

The worst is when I’m with people who think they know more about my health than I do. When I say no cheese or milk, they proceed to tell me that I could just take one of those lactase pills to help. No, lactose intolerance is NOT the same as an allergy. I know it’s frustrating when there are a lot of fakers out there, but please try to listen when people tell you no cheese or milk.