Customer: “What time does the film start?”
Me: “The film starts fifteen minutes after the time on your ticket. There are fifteen minutes of ads and trailers.”
Customer: “No, I said what time does the F-I-L-M start?!”
Me: “The film starts after fifteen minutes of trailers, so fifteen minutes after whatever it says on the ticket. Your ticket says 3:30 pm, so the film would start at 3:45. Okay?”
Customer: “Don’t blind me with science!”
Me: “Thank you for calling [Eye Doctor], how can I help you?”
Lady: “Hello, I want to check on the status of my glasses.”
Me: “Okay, what is your full name?”
Lady: “[First Name] Johnson.”
Me: “Okay. Hold, please.”
(I check the computer for Lori Johnson and it doesn’t come up. I then check alternative spellings things like Laurie, Lory, Lauri, etc. All to no avail.)
Me: “I’m sorry Miss, would you mind giving me your date of birth?”
Lady: “12-21-1969.”
(I do a search for that date of birth and one name comes up. [First Name] Smith.)
Me: “Would you by chance be listed under any other name?”
Lady: “NO!”
Me: “Okay, I’ll try searching by address.”
(She gives me her address and sure enough, it matches [First Name] Smith.)
Me: “I seem to have you listed in our computer as ‘[First Name] Smith’.”
Lady: “That’s not me.”
Me: “Well the date of birth matches, as does the address. Would you like me to search by social security number?”
Lady: “That’s not my name. I got married and my last name is Johnson now!”
Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, your insurance still has you listed as Smith so that’s how we got mixed up. You’ll probably want to call them.”
Lady: “That’s no excuse.”
Me: “I’m sorry. But there was no way for us to know you got married.”
Lady: “It was in the newspaper!”
Me: “Okaaaaaay.”
Female Customer: *from 15 feet away* “Hey, you!”
Me: “Yes?”
(Customer comes over with her friends and a dirty soccer-ball-shaped pillow.)
Female Customer: “This is the last one and it’s dirty. I want 20% off!”
Me: “I’d like to give you a discount, but you’ll have to talk to one of my superiors. I don’t have the authority to do that.”
Female Customer: *points towards the sky* “My only superior is up there, and He’s the only one who I take orders from. ”
Me: “Let me see if I can get a manager.”
(I call for a manager, and of course, no one shows up. After 10 minutes…)
Female Customer: “Why can’t you give me a discount?”
Me: “Because I don’t have the authority.”
Female Customer: “Well, I think you can’t give me a discount because you don’t believe in Jesus!”
Me: “You can take that item to the service desk, and I’m sure they’d be able to help you out.”
Female Customer: “Yeah and we’ll stick out like a bunch of sore thumbs since we’re the only black people in the store!”
Me: “Actually, our store manager is African-American, as well as two of our assistant managers, who are both women.”
Female Customer: “Oh.” *she finally walks away*
This story is part of the Cheapskate Customers roundup!
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Me: “Okay, sir, so I would just need you to verify your information and sign here–”
(The patient cuts me off, snatches the clipboard, and gives me this I’m-not-stupid look.)
Patient: “Listen, I don’t need you to tell me what to do. I’m a lawyer and I know how the system works!”
(He sits down and starts looking over the paperwork. Five minutes later…)
Patient: “Ma’am, where did you need me to sign?”
This story is part of the Wrong But Committed Customers roundup!
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(Two days before Thanksgiving, people are picking up their orders of turkeys. One customer placed an order late, for a 20 lb. fresh Butterball. We didn’t get many of those, so I reserved a 20 lb. fresh “other” turkey.)
Me: “Well, I do have a previously frozen Butterball that a customer changed their mind on. It’s pretty much thawed out; you could have that.”
Customer: “No, my mother won’t eat frozen turkey.”
Me: “Well, then, take the fresh one.”
Customer: “My mother only eats Butterball.”
Me: “This is a Butterball, and since you have to thaw it anyway to cook it, why not take the Butterball?”
Customer: “She won’t eat frozen turkeys.”
Me: “We still have small fresh Butterballs. Why not take two of them?”
Customer: “No, my mother is making a turkey, too, and I don’t want to have three of them.”
Me: *exasperated*
This story is part of our Thanksgiving roundup!
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