(I’m the owner of a small local garage situated in a pretty popular area in Oslo. In Norway, about 80% of us go on a common summer holiday this weekend, and the last weeks before that are always the busiest weeks of the year. The phone rings:)

Me: “[Garage]. It’s [My Name]; how can I help you?”

Customer: “Hi, it’s [Customer]. I’m originally a customer at [Local Competitor], but they can’t help me as they are going on holiday on Friday. Can you help me? I need a check on my car.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but the situation is the same here. We are also closing on Friday for the summer holiday.”

Customer: “Okay, do you know of anyone who can help me?”

Me: “Sorry, my best advice is to pick up your phone and the [Phone Book] and start calling around.”

Customer: *explodes* “WHY THE H*** IS IT SO DIFFICULT TO GET SOME HELP WITH MY CAR? IT’S NOT A F****** HUMAN RIGHT TO HAVE A HOLIDAY IN JULY!”

Me: *getting really pissed, as I don’t like to be yelled at* “Why is it so important to get your car checked this week?”

Customer: “We are going on holiday on Monday!”

(We have a big sale on at the moment and as a result, have quite a few different items displayed in our front window.)

Customer: “Where are the rest of the necklaces displayed in the window?”

Me: “Which necklaces are you after, ma’am?”

Customer: “The ones in the window!”

Me: “Ma’am, there are about five different types of necklace displayed in the window, and they are located in different areas in the store. Were you interested in one in particular?”

Customer: “I don’t have time for this! I just want to see the necklaces from the window!” 

(The customer then stormed out.)

(We sell fried chicken quarters, so the breast and wing — white — are attached, as are the leg and thigh — dark. It usually goes as a special, with a side and a drink, and the white special is more expensive. We’ll say it’s $6.50 and the dark is $6.00. A lady comes up to order it without the drink, which is the same price as with it.)

Customer: “Well, that’s okay. I’ll take four pieces with fries for each.”

(I ring her up for four specials. I probably should have asked for clarification, but she said she would be storing it so it didn’t seem off.)

Me: “Okay! That’s $25.”

Customer: “What?! Honey, that can’t be right. I wanted four pieces with fries!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. The white special is $6.50, and the dark is $6.00. Two white and two dark–“

Customer: “No, honey. I wanted four pieces: one breast, one wing, one leg, and one thigh!”

Me: “Oh, okay! I’m sorry.” *voids off one of each* “Okay, it’s $12.50”

Customer: “NO, HONEY, THAT’S NOT RIGHT.”

Me: *getting agitated* “One white special is a breast and a wing and fries. It’s $6.50. A dark is a thigh and a leg and fries. That’s $6.00. So–“

Customer: “Just give me one, then, honey!”

Me: “White or dark?”

Customer: “White.”

Me: *voiding the other dark special* “Okay, $6.50.”

Customer: “That’s better, honey.”

(I do shift work. I’ve just come off a six-to-six night shift, and I stop by a popular fast food restaurant for coffee and breakfast before going home to my girlfriend. As there are two tour buses there, the dining room is quite busy, so I grab a table near the kids’ playground. I’ve just sat down and pulled out my tablet when a lady and a little boy who’s around five years old come to the table next to me.)

Little Boy: “Mummy, I’m hungry.”

Lady: “You’ll have to wait. Go play.”

Little Boy: “Okay.” *runs to the playground*

Lady: “What the h*** do you think you’re doing?”

Me: “I’m sorry, what?”

Lady: “My son saw your food and now he’s hungry.”

(I’m extremely confused, as they’ve walked past at least twenty other people eating and, you know, they’re in a restaurant.)

Me: “Umm… I’m eating breakfast. You do know you’re in a restaurant, right?”

Lady: “Don’t get smart with me, you pervert. Give me your food.”

Me: “What the h***?! Get your own!”

Lady: “No, I haven’t got any money and you’ve upset my son. Give me your food now. You’re not even eating it. The only reason you’re here is so you can perve on little kids. You paedophile.”

Me: “Why did you come to a restaurant if you don’t have any money? I’m just trying to enjoy my breakfast. Now f*** off and leave me alone.”

Lady: “Give me your food. Actually, just give me $50 or you’re in big trouble.”

Me: “Look, lady, I’ve just finished a 12-hour shift and just want to eat my food in peace. Leave me alone.”

Lady: *starts yelling* “HELP! HELP! THIS MAN IS A PAEDOPHILE AND TRYING TO KIDNAP MY SON. HELP!”

(I’ve been coming here for over five years and the staff know me. The manager and another worker come running.)

Manager: “[My Name], what’s going on?”

Me: “This lady is–”

Lady: “This man offered my son lollies if he went with him, and then threw our food out. I want our food replaced, a refund, and him arrested.”

Manager: “Really? Let’s check the cameras, shall we?”

Lady: *yelling again* “ARE YOU CALLING ME A LIAR? I BET YOU’RE IN ON THIS, AS WEL!. YOU’RE BOTH PAEDOPHILES!”

Manager: *to the other worker* “Call the police while I check the cameras.”

Lady: *runs to the playground, grabs her son, and takes off through the restaurant*

Manager: “What the f***?”

(I explained what had happened and the manager offered to replace my food and coffee as it was now starting to go cold. I declined and finished up eating. As I was leaving, the manager stopped me and gave me two coffees and a breakfast for my girlfriend.)

(While my coworker’s working registers, a woman comes up with this story.)

Customer: “Hello. I bought these shoes online and they just arrived today. I would like a discount.”

Coworker: “Was something wrong with them?”

Customer: “Oh, no, they’re perfect. It’s just, I need them for my trip to Vegas, and they took too long to arrive.”

Coworker: “I’m sorry about that. When do you leave?”

Customer: “The day after tomorrow.”

Coworker: “Um, then you should be able to take them with you. When did you order them?”

Customer: “The first. They took way too long to arrive. I was really worried they wouldn’t make it in time, and I think I deserve a discount for my emotional distress.”

Coworker: “Well, ma’am, we do make sure to tell everyone the shipping takes up to seven business days. Today is the seventh.”

Customer: “They did tell me that, but I didn’t know that doesn’t include weekends. Listen, I forgot to use my coupon on this, anyway, so if you could just put $20 credit on my account or something, that would work.”

(At this point, I step in as a manager.)

Me: “I’m very sorry; we don’t have the ability to do that. And unfortunately, we can’t give discounts as long as the shoes arrived on time.”

Customer: “But I had to have these shoes for my vacation. I just want a discount for the stress you guys gave me that I might not have them.”

Me: “I’m very sorry, but—”

Customer: “Can I have the number for corporate?”

(Unfortunately, these are the magic words. If someone wants to file a complaint, we have to do everything we can to make sure they don’t.)

Me: “You know what, we’ll do a one-time appeasement and give you $10 off.”

(The customer is happy as we process the refund.)

Me: “Have a wonderful trip.”

(I hate that being part of a large corporation means the customer is always right. Had she complained, she probably would’ve gotten the shoes for free while my coworker and I got written up.)