This happened around 2013 when I worked at a small midwest music store. I could go on and on about the many wicked customers that entered that store over the four years that I worked there, but I’ll share the most satisfying one.

I was young, still in high school, working as a sales associate in an upper-middle-class suburban midwest music store. The store catered mostly to kids in school band, selling cheap orchestra instruments on 0% interest and zero down payment plans that you could cancel at any time. It was their bread and butter. During peak season (the end of summer) we would have lines out the door, each person filling out one of these contracts.

This brings me to Rude Dad™. It was a day like any other when a huge pickup pulled into the front spot and a dad and his son hopped out and came into the store.

The dad placed a piano lesson book on the counter.

Rude Dad: “I’d like to return this.”

I looked at the receipt and saw that it was not within our return policy time of thirty days. Now, normally, I would have just accepted the return, but I had just had a talking-to from the manager about accepting returns past thirty days.

Me: *Politely* “Sir, I’m sorry, but we can’t accept returns past thirty days.”

This book was no more than $8, and it was clear that the kid had finished the book and moved on to the next book, but still, Rude Dad™ started to get angry. I gestured to the return policy that was laminated to our counter.

Me: *Still politely* “Sir, this is our policy. I’ll get in trouble if I accept the return.”

Rude Dad: “Well, maybe I should just return the $800 clarinet I bought the other day, too!”

Young, and shaken from being yelled at, I just took the book and began the return process. At that moment, my older coworker, who had heard the whole thing, turned around, looked this guy in the eye, and said something along the lines of:

Coworker: “You’re returning your kid’s clarinet because you’re upset that we won’t return an $8 book you’ve clearly used?! What do you think the purpose of having a return policy is, sir?! If you would like to return your kid’s clarinet, go ahead.”

I froze. Rude Dad™ froze. I looked at his embarrassed young kid just wanting to hide. Rude Dad™ snatched his book off the counter and stormed out. He stood out in front of our store for another fifteen or twenty minutes, walking up to cars pulling in, clearly talking to them about what happened, and gesturing toward us in the store. Then, he drove off, never to return.

Thankfully, my coworker was one of the best employees with the highest sales numbers, so he was safe from upper management. He immediately called our manager to tell him what happened to get ahead of it, and neither of us received any repercussions. I was really glad he stepped up and yelled at that guy. It was satisfying seeing the guy storm out like a child and try and get people to not shop here.

Hopefully, that kid is doing all right.

Someone bought a [Brand] phone from our company a few days ago. Today, they reach out through chat because, apparently, it isn’t turning on.

Me: “Hello! How may I help you today?”

Customer: “My phone isn’t turning on. Fix it.”

I ask all the questions about brand, etc., and then I ask if the phone is charged.

Customer: “I left it in the sun.”

Me: “Okay, but is it charged?”

Customer: “It was in the sun. What don’t you understand?”

Me: “I am sorry, I understand, but did you use the phone charger?”

Customer: “Why doesn’t it charge with solar energy?”

Me: *Pauses* “That’s not how your [Brand] phone works. I’m sorry.”

Customer: “I want my phone to charge like this.”

I work for a chain bar and restaurant that gives free refill coffee when you purchase your first cup. Today, whilst serving, I have a woman order a coffee. I know she is going to be trouble; she orders her drink whilst I’m standing in front of her pouring a pint for another customer whilst two more are waiting patiently. The foot starts tapping, and then the huffing and harumphing start.

As I pass over her cup, so she can finally get her coffee:

Customer: “This cup is cold; it should be hot.”

Me: “Sorry, all our cups are cold unless they’ve just come out of the wash.”

Customer: “I always have a hot mug; my coffee will go cold.”

We don’t have a limit on how many refills you get on your coffee or what sort of hot drink you choose, including hot water for tea.

Me: “You could put some hot water in it first to warm it up if you wish.”

Customer: “It’s common sense to serve coffee in a hot mug.”

So, I’m meant to keep all my mugs hot, just for her? Does she keep her mugs hot at home, ready for when she wants a brew? Or is she like everyone else (with common sense) who uses a cold cup and drinks it quick enough for it not to go cold in the first place?

Related:
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 7
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 6
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 5
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 4
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 3

I just started this job a couple of months ago, and my coworkers constantly talk about this lady that orders a sushi burrito every time she comes in. She always asks for five to seven LAYERS of crab salad (you usually get two scoops) and extra Masago (fish eggs), which doesn’t normally come on the burritos and is very expensive.

The owner has talked to us about wanting to charge her for extras but he is also afraid of losing a regular customer. She came in the other day, and this is how that went.

Me: “Hi there! I can help you whenever you’re ready!”

She points at my coworker who is already helping another customer.

Customer: “Actually, she already knows how I want my order. I want her to make it.”

Me: “Okay.”

My coworker finishes the customer she’s serving and starts working on this woman’s burrito. The lady is being so rude to her because she’s very specific about how and where the food should be placed in the burrito. Toward the end, the lady steps out to take a phone call before her burrito is finished, and my coworker and I discuss how to charge her.

Me: “Girl, I’m about to charge her for a build-your-own with extra protein and avocado.”

Coworker: “Dude, you should put, like, three extra protein.”

Me: “Nah, this is already a $15 burrito. She’s gonna be mad.”

The customer reenters to pay.

Me: “All right, ma’am, that comes to $14.58.”

Customer: “That’s not right. I only get charged for the California burrito.”

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t really do that as you got a lot of extras and some are really expensive extras.”

Customer: “Well, I know [Owner], and that’s how he usually charges me for it.”

I stare incredulously, trying not to laugh.

Me: “Okay, ma’am.”

I end up charging her for the California burrito with extra avocado.

Me: “Your total is now $10.25. I will be discussing this further with [Owner], and I don’t think we’ll be doing this for you again.”

Now it is her turn to look stunned.

Customer: “Are… are you the manager?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Customer: “Oh, really? Wow, okay.”

Me: “Have a great rest of your day!”

She came back at the end of the next day, like an hour before close. I think she was hoping to miss me, but I was the only one there! She looked terrified. At that point, I had spoken to the owner and double-checked that he was cool with us up-charging her. He was. She called him after our first encounter and he ignored her. She said she was worried she had gotten banned, and I said, “Not yet.”

Aside from that, there was nothing super notable about the second exchange, but she was much better behaved, and when I let her know she would be charged for the extra, she told me she was going to pay.

A few years ago, I was an electrical apprentice in California. We had one foreman who was a particular kind of picky. If he wanted you to use a push broom to sweep a room, you had to do it in big strokes, not small ones.

One day, he comes to my journeyman and me.

Foreman: “I need you to put in T1000 lights in all these rooms. It should take fifteen minutes per light — that’s what the box says — so this will keep you busy for the day.”

We start putting the lights up and find that even I, in my first year, can install these things in like seven to nine minutes, so we knock out five or six each in the first hour. The foreman comes by and screams at us.

Foreman: “What the f***?! I told you it should take fifteen minutes per light!”

Journeyman: “They were really simple, so we were able to get them knocked out pretty quickly so far.”

Foreman: “No. I want it to take fifteen minutes per light. No excuses.”

I promise you he said that verbatim.

So, he storms off. My journeyman looks at me.

Journeyman: “Well, back to work, then.”

Then, about five minutes later, he finishes his light. I finish mine a few seconds later. 

Journeyman: “Okay, the timer still has nine and a half minutes, so we’re just gonna chill for nine and a half minutes.”

We do this all the way until lunch comes rolling around. The superintendent swings by to check on the job site, and we’re just sitting there talking about sports. The guy comes up looking confused and mad as all h***.

Superintendent: “Why the f*** are you sitting around and not working?”

Journeyman: “Well, the foreman told us it should take fifteen minutes per light and that we needed to take fifteen minutes per light, so we knock out our light, wait for the timer to run out, and then start the next one.”

Superintendent: “Oh, what the f***? Sorry, guys. When you come back from lunch, just knock them out as you would normally. I don’t know why he wanted it this way, but I’ll fix it.”

The foreman got chewed out for it, and I learned a great lesson in malicious compliance that day.