Old Customer: “Do you have fixative?”

Coworker #1: “I’m not aware of a product by that name. What do you want it to do?”

Old Customer: “Get me someone else who knows the inventory!”

Coworker #2: “Sir, can I help you?”

Old Customer: “Yeah, I want some fixative.”

Coworker #2: “We don’t have a product by that name, but if you describe it, we can get it for you.”

Old Customer: “I buy fixative in here ALL THE TIME.”

Coworker #2: “What does the product look like?”

Old Customer: “This is ridiculous. You should know your inventory well enough to READ MY MIND!”

Related:
(Telepathic) Help Wanted

Me: “Hi, how are you? How may I help you?”

Lady: “Yes, I’d like to return this pregnancy test.”

Me: “Okay, what’s wrong with it?”

Lady: “It came out positive.”

Me: *confused* “Okay?”

Lady: “I can’t be pregnant, so this test MUST be defective. I want to return it.”

(For anyone who doesn’t know, it is very rare for a pregnancy test to mistake a positive pregnancy. A negative, yes, positive, no.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you can’t return a pregnancy test you’ve already used.

Lady: “What do you mean I can’t return it?!? It’s wrong! I want to see your manager!”

(I go to the back to see my manager, who is a woman, and explain about the lady. We return to the front.)

Manager: “Hello, what may I help you with?”

Lady: “YES! I want to return this pregnancy test! It came out positive and I just can’t be pregnant! It’s wrong and I want my money back!”

Manager: “Ma’am, I’m sorry. We can’t refund you on the test because it came out positive.”

Lady: “NO! I insist I get my money back!”

Manager: *getting frustrated* “Ma’am! I’m sorry but we cannot and will not refund you your money just because it came out positive. Congratulations on your new baby!”

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(A guest approaches the hotel front desk.)

Guest: “Um, hi… it looks like there was a pretty bad accident right down the street there…”

Me: “Oh okay, I’ll call 911.”

Guest: “It looks like a cab and a bus.”

Me: “Okay, thank you.” *picks up the phone*

Guest: What are you doing?

Me: “Calling 911.”

Guest: “Look, a lot of people have cell phones, I’m sure it’s fine. What I’m concerned about is that I think that was my cab.”

Me: “…?”

Guest: “SO ARE YOU GOING TO CALL ME A CAB OR NOT?!”

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(A very old man with a Dracula Transylvania accent comes into the store. I am standing in an aisle restocking something, easily spotted by anyone entering the store.)

Dracula: “HO HO HO!” *it’s summer btw* “Where is everybody? All hands on deck! Can’t I get some f**king help here?!”

Me bewildered: “Uhm, I’m right here. What can I help you with sir?”

Dracula: “I need new razor blades.”

Me: “Okay, they are right over here.” *leads him to display* “What kind of razor do you have?”

Dracula: “I don’t know! Why does that matter? How am I supposed to know that?”

Me: “Well, there are different blades for each kind of razor. If you can look through the razors we have and show me what it looks like, I’ll get you fixed up.”

(Dracula finds his razor and I find his blades.)

Me: “Do you want the four-count or the eight-count? The eight-count costs a bit more.”

Dracula: “Give me the eight-count! You think I want to come back here every day? No one works here!”

(I get the blades for him and start heading toward the checkout. He stops me and snatches the blades from me.)

Dracula: “I need to see them first to make sure they’re right! *starts to open them*

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry, but you can’t just open things. We matched them up to your razor. I’m sure they are right.”

Dracula: *opens them anyway* “They’re right!”

(He hands them to me and again I move toward the checkout. Again, he stops me.)

Dracula: “What are you doing? Those are open. I’m not buying them!”

Me: “Sir, you were the one to open them after I clearly told you not to. So you are buying these. Next time, don’t open things you don’t want.”

(He grabs another box of the shelf and snatches the open box from me. He tosses it onto a lower shelf and says…)

Dracula: “You need a display anyway! You should have a display so people know what they are buying!”

Me: “Sir, I’m fairly certain that our customers with children would not appreciate an open razor blade display!”

(I snatch them up and sell him the unopened box; at this point, I just wanted him out of the store. We dealt with Dracula twice more.)

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(I work at a city cafe and we open early and get a lot of stupid obviously not morning people coming in. This woman orders two coffees.)

Me: “Here you go, two large flat whites.”

Customer: *takes a sip* “You know, these aren’t really hot. Your coffee isn’t cheap you know. It’s not good enough.”

Me: “I’m sorry, here, let me make you another one.”

(I make her the coffees over, this time as hot as I can without burning the milk.)

Customer: “Look, seriously, they’re still too cold. Make them again!”

(I make the coffees again, this time burning the milk so badly it stinks, burning the coffee shot, and generally doing everything I can to make it a crap coffee. It is, however, really hot.)

Me: “Here you go, I hope that’s a bit better. If you still aren’t satisfied, I can give you a refund.”

Customer: *takes big sip* “FINALLY, THANK you. Would it have been that hard to make it like this before?”

(The only explanation I can think of is that drinking too much hot coffee has burned off her tastebuds.)

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