I am working, counting stock, at a large furniture store, and a customer approaches me to ask for directions.

Customer: “Hi, I have this shelf location here, but I’m not quite sure how to find it.”

Me: “Yeah, the numbering system is a little weird, but all the even aisles are on that side—” *points west* “—and all the odd aisles are on this side.” *Gestures to the aisle we are in* “You want aisle thirty-three, which is on the other side of the warehouse, near the cash registers.” *Points west toward aisle thirty-three*

Customer: “So, over there?”

The customer points east, directly opposite to where I was pointing.

Me: “No, that way.”

I point to aisle thirty-three.

Customer: “This way?”

The customer points in the opposite direction again.

Me: “What? No. Look, follow me.”

I take them to the centre of the warehouse.

Me: “See that big sign with ‘thirty-three’ on it? That’s where you need to go.”

Customer: “So, over this way?” *Points in the opposite direction*

Me: *Pause* “I’m gonna go see if I can find someone to help you.” *Walks away*

I work in an office tower with a food court, including a well-known burger place that offers multiple side dishes for any meal. I go there right as the place opens one day.

Me: “Can I get a combo number five, with chili as the side instead of fries?”

The cashier rings up everything correctly and double-checks that I mean chili as the side, not as an additional side.

Me: “Yup, as the side, instead of fries. You got it.”

I proceed to pay, thinking everything is fine.

Cashier: “It’ll be two minutes for your fries.”

Me: “Wait, what fries?”

The cashier and I broke into laughter. Clearly, she was on autopilot to start the day. No harm, no foul, just a solid laugh to start lunch.

I am working, counting stock, when a customer approaches me to ask for help.

Customer: “Excuse me, I was just wondering if this—” *indicates to bookshelf* “—will fit in my car.”

Me: “Okay, sure. I don’t actually work in this department but I’ll see if I can help.”

Customer: *Waits expectantly*

Me: “Uh, well, what kind of car do you have?”

Customer: “A Toyota.”

Me: “A Toyota what?”

Customer: “Carolla.”

Me: “Sedan, hatchback?”

Customer: “Hatchback.”

Me: “Okay, great. Well, I actually have that same model of car, and funnily enough, I just bought one of these bookcases and it’s a bit of a squeeze, but it’ll definitely fit.”

Customer: “But will it fit in my car?”

Me: “Well, we have the same car, and it’s the same bookshelf, so I’m very confident it will. It fit when I put it in my car.”

Customer: “But will it fit in my car?”

Me: “Yes. It will. You just have to fold the back seats down.”

Customer: “We can’t fold the seats down because we have the baby seat in the back!”

Me: *Thinking* “Then maybe don’t come furniture shopping in a tiny hatchback with your whole family?”

I work at a chicken restaurant, at the drive-thru window. During the order, we ask about sauces or condiments, but if we don’t, we double-check at the window. There is also a button for no sauce if they say they don’t want any during the original order so we don’t ask again. This happens numerous times a day with “no sauce” people.

Me: “Hi! You had [food]?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Great! That will be [price].”

They pay, we hand them everything, and right before they drive away, they point into their bag:

Customer: “There’s [sauce] in here, right?”

Me: “No… but I can grab you some!”

I honestly think people think we are sauce psychics.

Related:
Getting To The Sauce Of The Problem, Part 5
Getting To The Sauce Of The Problem, Part 4
Getting To The Sauce Of The Problem, Part 3
Getting To The Sauce Of The Problem, Part 2
Getting To The Sauce Of The Problem

I work as a supervisor at a used clothing store. I process items being brought in and I am a cashier, as well, being in charge in lieu of a manager.

I’m ringing through an older man in his fifties.

Me: “Just to let you know, this item is included in our 70%-off clearance and will be final sale. The return policy is on your receipt, as well! Have a great night.”

He thanks me and leaves. About forty-five seconds after he walks out the door, I hear it chime to let someone in and greet them.

Me: “Hey, good evening. Just so you know we close in twenty—”

Customer: “I need to return this jacket you sold me; it’s destroyed.” 

Me: “Oh, well, actually, sir, that was the item that was discounted. If you see the marked tag, we aren’t able to return those, sorry.”

Customer: “But it’s ripped under the arm and I don’t want it.”

Me: “I do apologize, but that is most likely why it ended up in our clearance section.”

It was discounted down to $7, it’s name brand, and it could be fixed at a tailor.

Customer: “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. This is fraud. You didn’t tell me I couldn’t return this! You’re ripping me off!”

Me: “I’m really sorry if you feel that way, but if you look at the receipt, it does say that the return policy is only on regular-priced items and not on things on sale. Since it’s been paid for, there really isn’t anything I can do to give you any money back. I can give you the email for the store owners if you’d like to discuss it with them further.”

Customer: “What do you mean, on sale? Isn’t everything on sale if I can f****** buy it? Where’s the manager? You’re obviously too stupid to be a manager. I want to talk to a man. Where is he?”

My very female manager, who is only in her twenties, walks over and interjects.

Manager: “Hi, I’m the store manager, actually. I couldn’t help but overhear, and, unfortunately, as my coworker told you just now, we aren’t able to give you a refund.”

She hands him a paper with the business email address.

Manager: “Thanks for coming in tonight. I hope your next experience is better. Sorry we can’t be of more assistance but maybe you should come back when you’re calmer.”

The customer’s face turns noticeably red.

Customer: “Well, I’ll guess I’ll be leaving you a Facebook review when I get home! This is unbelievable.”

He leaves and my manager just looks at me, laughs, and says:

Manager: “I only came over because I knew it would make him uncomfortable enough to leave. You handled that well. He was mean.”

He also never left a review and never emailed the owner.