Has The Authority To Tell You How It Is

, , , , , , | Right | June 6, 2009

(I am 17, working at an outlet for a hardware shop. I have an irate customer who wants a discount because — get this — the drills were too hard to find! He didn’t ask anyone where to find them. He gets a bit abusive after I tell him I can’t do that, and interrupts me before I can get in, “but I can call the manager to handle that.” However, the manager is actually walking past at the time and hears most of the one-sided conversation. He fronts up to this bloke, and says in one of those suppressed-anger sorts of voices the following awesome rebuttal:)

Manager: “Do you know how old this boy is? Do you know how much he earns?”

Customer: “No. Why should I care?” *a lot more calmly, because the manager is a big bloke*

Manager: “He’s 17. And he earns $6 an hour.”

Customer: “Wh—”

Manager: *louder* “Do you know how much authority he has to give you a discount? Not none at all. Not zero. Less than none; less than zero.”

Customer: “How c—”

Manager:Because, if he works hard, in a year or two he’ll get a promotion, and then he’ll have no f****** authority to give you a discount. Since he’s lower on the scale than that, he must have less than zero authority to do it now, get it?”

Customer: “Well, I—”

Manager: “HE’S SO FAR DOWN THE LINE OF AUTHORITY, HE HAS TO STAND ON A F****** LADDER TO TIE HIS SHOES!”

Customer: “Bu—”

Manager: “Furthermore, sir, he’s a minor, and the way you were talking to him is abuse of a minor, and you could be arrested for it.”

Customer: “Uh, I—”

Manager: “So, in future, if you want a discount, ask someone in authority. Ask me! Don’t abuse the staff; they can’t do anything. I’m the one who can! I’m the only one! Now, put the drills back or pay the full amount, because I’m not going to give you a discount, because you’re a s***head!”

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A Reversal Of Fortune

, , , , , | Right | January 24, 2009

(I’m a female on-call locksmith. It is 3:00 am, in -16-degree weather. I go to the car that the person has been locked out of. I make them sign the paperwork, and I pop the lock in under five minutes.)

Customer: “Wait! Why should I pay $150 for something that only took you two seconds?!”

Me: “Because you couldn’t do it yourself.”

Customer: “You b****! I’m not paying this! I’m going to dispute the charges!”

Me: “Well, in that case…”

(I take the keys and throw them back into the car, lock the door, and slam it shut.)

Me: “Have a good night.”

Customer: “You can’t do that!”

Me: “You just said you were going to reverse the charges, so I’m reversing the job.”

(I got chewed out so hard for that, but it was worth it.)

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Going Bananas

, , , , | Right | October 29, 2008

Me: “Can I help you, sir?”

Customer: “Yeah, I need to know what you can do for my dog. He’s really aggressive and tries to bite me and everyone. Do you train dogs here or something?”

Me: “No, sir, but I can refer you to a trainer.”

Customer: “I don’t have time for that! I need advice now. What do you think I should do?”

Me: “Well, sir, is he a show dog?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Are you going to use him for breeding?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “I would suggest that you have him neutered as a first step; it will help calm him down. Also, enroll him in an obedience class. That will–”

Customer: “Neuter him? You mean cut his balls off!?”

Me: “Well…”

Customer: “G**d***it, that’s so typical! All you feminist Nazis all just wanna cut off all us men’s balls!”

(Just then, the main veterinarian comes out from the back to see what the yelling is about.)

Veterinarian: “What seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “I’ll tell you what! That girl there suggested I get his balls whacked off!”

Veterinarian: “Now, [My Name], I’ve told you before we don’t treat exotic animals here, haven’t I?”

Me: “Yes, sir?”

Veterinarian: “Well, let’s not have this happen again…” *turns back to the customer* “I am sorry, sir. We normally do not treat large apes, but since my person here already told you we do, I’ll honor it. When would you like to make the appointment?”

Customer: *storms out*

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Of All The Lies To Tell

, , , , | Right | August 6, 2008

Snooty Customer: “I want a milkshake, but I want it made THICK. Last time I had a shake here, it was like drinking ice cream flavored water!”

Me: “I can assure you that I can make you a very thick milkshake, ma’am. What flavor would you like?”

Snooty Customer: “A milkshake! I want a milkshake!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. What FLAVOR of milkshake would you like?”

Snooty Customer: “I told you I wanted an extra chocolaty chocolate one!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. One extra chocolaty chocolate milkshake, thick.”

(I fill the milkshake cup with chocolate ice cream and use hot fudge sauce instead of chocolate syrup. I add maybe a tablespoon of milk. I get it mixed up and ring her up, and she leaves. A few minutes later she returns, cuts in front of about 10 people waiting in line and slams her milkshake on the counter.)

Snooty Customer: “I want to talk to a manager! I want to know why no one here can do their d*** job!”

Manager: “How can I help you, ma’am?”

Snooty Customer: “I told that girl there I wanted a normal chocolate milkshake, and this is so thick I can’t get it through the straw! I just gave myself a headache trying to drink this thing! I demand double my money back, a free milkshake, and some ibuprofen!”

Manager: “Ma’am, I was standing right behind her when you placed your order. She made you what you asked for. An extra chocolaty shake that was thick. I am not returning your money or giving you a new milkshake.”

Snooty Customer: “But, my husband is Dr. [Name] and I always get what I want!”

(Suddenly, another customer who has been standing in line and watching the whole thing speaks up.)

Another Customer: “Excuse me, b****, but Dr. [Name] is my BROTHER and you sure as h*** aren’t his wife, you d*** liar!”

Snooty Customer: *leaves in a huff*

(My manager gave the other customer her entire order on the house. She deserved it, whether it was true or not.)

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Postman 1, Preemptive Strike 0

, , | Right | July 4, 2008

(I’m waiting in line and overhear a conversation between the customer in front of me and postman at the front counter.)

Customer: “I need to ship this package out.”

Postman: “Okay. Would you like to upgrade this to priority shipping?”

Customer: “No, I just want to send this by regular mail. I don’t need anything else or any other services.”

Postman: “Okay, that’ll be $10.00 for the shipping. Do you need any stamps today?”

Customer: “No! No stamps, no certified mail, no post office box, no passport. I just need to ship this package out–that’s it. Did I miss anything?!”

Postman: *without skipping a beat* “Do you need any money orders today, ma’am?”

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