(It’s the day after my eighteenth birthday. I’m out with a friend when I remember I have to go to the ATM, so we stop at a gas station. My friend, who is nineteen, asks me if I’ll grab him a pack of cigarettes and he’ll pay me back later. I agree, and I walk in and get my money from the ATM, then grab a drink and a bag of chips. I approach the counter, ID in hand.)

Me: “Just this and a pack of [Brand].”

Cashier: “ID, please?”

Me: “Of course. Here you are.”

(He examines my ID for a second, looks at his watch, looks at the calendar, and then looks at me before looking at his watch again. He hands me my ID, then puts my drink and chips behind the counter.)

Cashier: “Get out. You can come back next week.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Cashier: “Next week, man.”

Me: “I’m of legal age to buy those.”

Cashier: “Next week.”

Me: “What? No. I’m eighteen; I turned eighteen yesterday.”

Cashier: “Next week, buddy.”

Me: “Okay, well, can I at least buy my chips?”

Cashier: “Next week.”

Me: “But—”

Cashier: “Next week.”

(I walk out, kind of pissed off about the whole situation.)

Friend: “Did you get my smokes?”

Me: “Uh, no. The guy told me to leave.”

Friend: “You showed him your license, right?”

Me: “Yeah, but he just kept saying to come back next week.”

Friend: “Ah, don’t worry. I’ll get them eventually.”

(Same day, different gas station, I bought the cigarettes no problem. I’d stop going to that gas station if it wasn’t the closest to my house.)

My better half booked a two-week cruise for us both. She is fastidious when it comes to paperwork. We board after showing our tickets and are directed to our room.

While we are unpacking, there’s a knock on the door. We open it to see one of the cruise workers and a lady. The lady reminds me of an owl by the way she is peeking around the employee, looking into my room. I shut the door a tad so she can’t peer in, and I am informed that there seems to be an issue with the booking.

The employee asks if I could make my way to the purser’s desk with any paperwork we may have. We get the folder containing the paperwork and I head off with Mrs. Owl to get this sorted.

After ten minutes of listening to Mrs. Owl complain how unprofessional everything is, we get to the front of the line and are asked by the purser for any documentation we may have to help clear up the matter.

I hand her the folder saying, “This is every piece of correspondence between my partner, me, and your company, in chronological order starting with my partner’s first inquiry up until yesterday morning confirming our room number.”

The purser looks to Mrs. Owl. Mrs. Owl hands her a sticky note with a handwritten number on it.

Ten minutes later, I’m back in my room with my feet up drinking an extremely alcoholic cocktail.

Not sure what happened to the Owls.

(We receive a call at the weekend from a man who says he is from BT, the phone company, and is calling about our Internet connection. I know immediately it is a scam as we use a different provider, but I decide I’ll see how the conversation goes.)

Scammer: “Is your Wi-Fi router currently on?”

Me: “Yep.”

Scammer: “Can you tell me how many lights are flashing on it?”

Me: *picking a number at random* “Um… seventeen.”

Scammer: “Seventeen?”

Me: “Yep.”

Scammer: “Are you crazy? You f****** crazy! Motherf***** woman!”

(I work for a popular pet store chain with a full grooming salon. The salon has a line out the door and lines at each register. I am manning the phones while my manager deals with an emergency regarding a truck delivery. I am one of the few people outside the groomers that knows how to book grooming appointments even though I myself am not a groomer, so I can help in situations like this without pulling a groomer away just to make an appointment.)

Me: *answering phone* “Thank you for calling [Pet Store]. This is [My Name]; how can I help you out today?”

Customer: *silence*

Me: “Hello?”

Customer: *silence*

Me: “Is anyone there?”

Customer: *practically screaming* “GROOMING!”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “GROOMING!”

Me: “Did you want to make a grooming appointment?”

Customer: “GROOMING!”

Me: “Ma’am, if you want to make a grooming appointment I would be glad to help you out with that.”

Customer: “NO! I NEED TO TALK TO GROOMING TO MAKE MY APPOINTMENT!”

Me: “Well, they are very busy right now, so if I transfer you, you are going to have about a twenty-minute wait on hold because there is no one to assist you. I can, in fact, make you a grooming appointment right this minute because I am trained to do so.”

Customer: “THIS IS RIDICULOUS! A TWENTY-MINUTE WAIT TO MAKE A D*** APPOINTMENT!”

Me: “Ma’am, as I said, I can make you an appointment right this minute without putting you on hold.”

Customer: “JUST PUT ME ON HOLD, WHATEVER! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!”

Me: “As you wish. Someone will be with you as soon as they can. Have a lovely day!” *puts lady on hold*

(About thirty minutes pass with a couple uninteresting phone calls about products and closing times until…)

Me: *answering phone* “Thank you for callin—“

Customer: “GROOMING!”

Me: “I’m sor—“

Customer: “WHAT PART OF GROOMING DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND?! PUT ME THROUGH! I NEED TO SPEAK TO THEM NOW SO I CAN MAKE AN APPOINTMENT!”

Me: “Ma’am, they are still very busy. Did you not get through when I transferred you?”

Customer: “No! I waited five minutes and no one answered so I hung up and waited twenty minutes now I want to talk to them!”

Me: “Ma’am, I told you if you stayed on hold for those twenty minutes someone would help you, but since you hung up I have to put you at the end of the hold queue again.”

Customer: “THIS IS RIDICULOUS! HORRIBLE CUSTOMER SERVICE! I THOUGHT YOU COULD MAKE THE APPOINTMENT NOW?!”

Me: “I can certainly do that; would you like to opt for that, instead?”

Customer: “FINE!”

Me: *exasperated at this point* “All right. When were you looking for an appointment?”

Customer: “I need to bring her in today around 4:00 pm.”

Me: *stunned* “Ma’am, we are completely booked; there are no appointment slots left for the day. It is a weekend and we fill up days or weeks in advance depending on the time of year.”

Customer: “DON’T GIVE ME THAT! I TRIED MAKING AN ONLINE RESERVATION BUT THEY SAID THERE WAS NO ROOM, SO NOW I AM CALLING! YOU HAVE TO FIT ME IN!”

Me: “There is no possible way for me to do that.”

Customer: “THIS IS WHY I WANTED GROOMING! THEY KNOW ME! THEY WILL GET ME IN! TRANSFER ME TO THEM!”

Me: “Sure thing. Please hold.”

(About thirty minutes later, my manager is back so I am off phones. I hop into the grooming salon to help hold a dog for nails.)

Me: “Hey, any chance you know what happened with a crazy lady on hold? Wanted an appointment at 4:00 pm?”

Groomer: *laughing* “Yeah, we talked to her. Wanting an appointment today? HA! We told her there was no way in h*** she was getting in today. Who in their right mind thinks they can bully their way into an appointment?”

Me: “Exactly! The meaner you are, the less willing I will be to help you. Some people just don’t get it.”

Related:
About To Be Dis-Appointed, Part 3
About To Be Dis-Appointed, Part 2
About To Be Dis-Appointed

(I work in a grocery store bakery. We hand out free cookies to the children of our shoppers. On this particular day, I see a child standing at the gate into my work area.)

Me: “Hi there!”

Kid: “Gimme a cookie!”

Me: “What do you say?”

(Expecting him to say, “Please.”)

Kid: “NOW!”

Kid’s Mom: *laughs*

(I handed him a cookie, but I felt bad about encouraging bratty behavior.)