Whenever we have a deal on our website — buy one, get an accessory free, free shipping, 10% off a brand, etc. — on the final invoice, it will list the full price with a negative line showing the discount underneath. This is both a way to show the customer exactly how much they save as well as for our accounting department to keep track of things. Most people don’t care about the level of detail, or they actually appreciate it.

This customer starts the call with a tone in his voice like he’s talking to a particularly unintelligent child and sighing constantly like he’s already been on the line for two hours.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Company]. This is [My Name]; how may I help you?”

Customer: “You need to send me a new invoice.”

Me: “Well, for your convenience, all open invoices are viewable on our website.”

Customer: *Sighs* “No, you need to provide a corrected one.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, sir, I wasn’t aware there was an error. Can you give me the invoice or order number?”

Customer: *Sighs* “It’s on my account.”

Me: “All right, can I have your name or your company’s name?”

Customer: *Sighs* “It’s called Caller ID.”

Me: “Unfortunately, while our receptionist probably got your Caller ID, once it’s transferred internally, I only see your phone number, which did not match an account in our system.”

The customer finally lets out a sigh which truly must have been caused by the weight of the world resting atop his shoulders. He eventually deigns to bless me with his information, I pull up his account, and I look up his invoice.

Me: “It appears everything is in order here, sir. What is the issue?”

Customer: “The issue, obviously, is that I need this resent with the final total.”

Me: “You have your final total, sir; it’s [amount.]”

Customer: *Sighs* “You’re not listening. I don’t want the shipping cost; I’m not paying for it.”

Me: *Biting my tongue* “Oh, I see! Don’t worry, sir, you are not being charged for shipping. If you notice, there is a ‘Discount – Free Shipping’ line just beneath that negates it.”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “You don’t see that line on your invoice?”

Customer: *Sighs* “No, I don’t accept that. You need to send me an invoice without that.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re not able to delete that information; it’s automatically applied by the software we use. That is the point of the discount line.”

This is technically true; anything we did that would force a $0 shipping would completely screw up our back end in different ways.

Customer: *Sighs* “Then just go in your little invoice thing and hit delete, obviously.”

Me: “Once an invoice is generated, we can’t delete it; we would have to cancel and reprocess your order. But it would still generate the same shipping information.”

Customer: *Sighs* “No, not the order, obviously, the invoice file.”

Me: *Confused* “We don’t have a separate…” *Finally understanding* “Sir, do you think we manually type up each invoice when we send them?”

Customer: “Obviously. It’s the only way to do it.”

Me: “No, sir. The invoices are generated by our order software when we complete your order.”

Customer: *Sighs* “Then fix it.”

Me: “There is nothing to fix, sir. I’m sorry that you do not like the formatting, but that is how our software operates.”

Customer: “Then let me talk to them.”

Me: “Talk to… who?”

Customer: “The software people.” 

I was finally dumbfounded and irritated enough by the constant attitude and sense of being talked down to that I just kind of broke. I let him know I’d send him an email once I got confirmation and then finally hung up. My manager asked for the TL;DR version — his words — I gave it, and he told me to go take a ten-minute break while he did the follow-up.

I live in a small town. One afternoon, I go to the local post office to mail some packages and letters. I’m waiting in line with two people ahead of me and four or five people behind me. There are two clerks on duty.

An angry man is yelling at the female clerk and aggressively gesturing with his smartphone.

Customer: “What do you mean, my package isn’t here?! My phone shows that it was delivered!”

Clerk: *Trying to stay calm* “Sir… whoever sent the package put in the wrong zip code. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

Customer: *Holding up his smartphone* “That’s not what my phone says. It says it was sent to [My Town] just now! Where is it?!”

Clerk: *Looking at her computer* “Sir… I understand, but it’s not here. Look, my system shows that it’s in [Small City about twenty minutes away].”

Customer: “Well, can you call someone?! I need that d*** package!”

Clerk: “There’s no one for me or you to call. It’s in [Small City]. I can’t do anything about this until it arrives in [My Town].”

Customer: *Getting more irate* “What the h*** is your system saying is wrong with the package?”

Clerk: “Sir, I keep telling you… Whoever mailed the package wrote the wrong zip code.”

Customer: “Listen, the zip code for [My Town] is [zip code ending in a six], is it not?!”

Clerk: “Yes, it is, but for whatever reason, it was read as [zip code ending in a zero], so it got sent to the wrong post office.”

Customer: “I don’t understand why you can’t just give me my f****** package!”

Clerk: *Starting to lose it* “Sir, I keep telling you this. I don’t understand what you want me to do. The package is in [Small City]. I can’t just magically change the zip code on a package that I don’t physically have! You’re trying to get me to do something that is literally impossible!”

The argument lasts for about five minutes in total until, eventually, the man gets frustrated and leaves, swearing and muttering under his breath.

After he leaves, the clerk sighs with relief and everyone behind me starts talking about the man’s behavior. The male clerk tries to get the man’s attention, but he’s already out the door.

Coworker: “Sir! Sir! Sir!”

Clerk: “Stop. Let him go. If he wants that parcel so bad, he can drive to [Small City]. They’ll have to deal with him.

Coworker: “Yeah… you’re right. Sorry.”

I eventually walk up to the counter.

Me: “What was his problem?” 

Clerk: “I don’t know what he expected me to do. His package is physically not in this building.”

Me: “You handled that quite professionally.”

Clerk: “Thanks. It’s not the first time that’s happened.”

I handed the clerk my items, paid the postage, and wished her a nice day.

I am trying to explain to a disgruntled customer who is demanding something outside of store policy.

Me: “Ma’am, I am afraid I can’t accommodate you. Store policy is that only a manager can approve a refund outside of the return period, and—”

I am reaching for the phone to call over a manager as I am explaining this, but she interrupts me.

Customer: “Then you should go ahead and call one over.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I just—”

Customer: “And start processing the return anyway. It’ll save time for when they get here and give me what I want.”

Me: “Ma’am, the computer is already on the screen that requests a supervisor’s employee number or card swipe. I can’t go any further.”

I try to call the manager again but am interrupted again.

Customer: “Why isn’t the computer doing the request?”

Me: “Because now is when I need a supervisor to come approve it.”

Customer: “It’s ridiculous that an approval is needed! I want to speak to someone about the poor customer service!”

I am finally able to call the manager over. They swipe their approval card and start to walk away, but the customer starts laying into them and me.

Customer: *To me* “Do you know how ridiculous it is that you couldn’t just override the approval screen?!”

Manager: “If any cashier could override it, there would be a major malfunction with the software since the entire point of approval is not to have policy overridden on a whim.”

She was still mad, but she finally left, and we were still scratching our heads after.

I worked at a casino doing security. I had just gotten out of the military where I had previously been qualified in a bunch of things that revolved around security and response to active shooters, etc. 

One night, during a busy evening, the panic/hold-up alarm went off, and the station that sounded it could not be reached. It was treated as a legitimate situation. I cleared out my section of the casino and moved to clear out other sections and help old people get away.

After that, I started clearing the staff out, as well; it seemed to take the security staff, including the director, a ridiculous amount of time to investigate and or clear the situation. It turned out to be nothing. Someone bumped a panic button and went on break or something.

I was pulled into the office where I was berated by the security staff supervisors for clearing out the building and sending everyone outside. They asked me why I did it.

Me: “The current FBI guidelines for these kinds of situations are ‘Run, Hide, Fight.’ So, the first priority is removing everyone from the area that’s under threat. The second would be hiding said people, but I was able to remove them, so I didn’t have to.”

My Director: “That’s incorrect. You are responsible for everyone leaving the casino, and you are going to be reprimanded. You have no experience with these situations and should be sent to training again.”

Me: “Can you clarify the FBI guidelines, then, if that’s incorrect?”

She couldn’t do that. When challenged and asked if I’d ever had active shooter training, I stood up and said:

Me: “I’ve been trained in responding to the active shooter as an armed law enforcement officer. Your lack of understanding of simple guidelines is terrifying to me. I quit. I won’t be giving my two weeks’ notice; this is the last time I’ll be in this building.”

She laughed.

My Director: *Laughing* “Well, then, we won’t be able to recommend you as a reference.”

I laughed, too.

Me: “I won’t be telling anyone I ever worked here. It won’t help my chances.”

I have worked for a few counter service cafes. The one I am currently at has a strange payment screen. The tip has to be chosen first, and then the card can be tapped, swiped, or inserted. Everywhere else I’ve worked has the card first and then you tip, so I understand people’s confusion and am happy to explain.

This lady was just rude, though.

Customer: “It’s not working. Does the tap work?”

Me: “Yeah, it’s just backward; you have to choose the tip first and then it’ll let you tap.”

Customer: *Mumbling loud enough for me to hear* “No tip, since no one wants to work anymore.”

If I could have, I would have said, “You’re right; I don’t,” and canceled her order. I know tips are not guaranteed, but at least keep your rude thoughts to yourself!