I work for a home improvement store with a large outdoor garden area that stocks plants, mulch, garden fencing, storage buildings… You get the idea. It also stocks stones — the type of stones you can use to make a walkway through your yard, to your house, or however you choose to spruce up your yard or garden.

I’m notified that there is a group of customers on the stone aisle that needs assistance, so I go over to help.

Each type of stone is stacked on a pallet. The signage shows a picture of the stone along with the price per stone. One pallet of stones may all be circle, another square, or another rectangle. There is one pallet where the stones have three or four different shapes to the set, and the sign shows how they fit together to form a nice walkway shape and explains it in detail. Then, it has the price next to it. And just like the rest, it says, “[Price]/each,” meaning price per stone — very easy to understand.

Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

The customer points to a price tag for a pallet of circle-shaped stones.

Customer: “Yeah, question: what’s this price for?”

Me: “That is the price per each stone.”

He points to the next pallet of square stones.

Customer: “And this one?”

Me: “Same. Price per each stone.”

I already know where this is going. This continues down the aisle until we finally get to the pallet of stones with different shapes.

Customer: “Okay. Now, what about this one?”

Me: “Same as the rest. Price per stone.”

Customer: “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Me: “How so?”

Customer: “Every price tag has a picture of a stone on it and then the price. But this one shows a picture of four stones and the price. So, I should be able to get four for [price].”

Me: “No, sir, it clearly says on the sign that it is the price per stone, just as all the others say. And the picture is showing how the different shapes fit together as an example. The other stones only show a picture of one because they’re all the same shape.”

Customer: “So, what you’re saying is that you’re advertising four stones and you won’t honor the price you have posted?!”

Me: “That’s not what I’m saying. If you read the sign—”

Customer: “That’s clearly what the sign is saying! I want four stones for that price!”

I point to the wording on the sign that explains in clear English how it’s sold and begin to read it out loud. The customer interrupts me again.

Customer: “There’s a picture of four stones and the price! Honor your d*** sign or get me a manager!”

I call a manager to come help.

Manager: “Hello, what can I assist you with today?”

The customer then goes through the exact same process of pointing to each stack and its sign.

Manager: “Okay, let me stop you right there because I know where you’re going with this, and no, you can’t have a set of four stones for the price of one.”

Customer: “This is false f****** advertising and illegal! Now give me my—”

Manager: “I’m not dealing with stupidity today, especially over something a five-year-old could comprehend. Have a nice day.”

The manager walks off. The customer and his group all pull out their phones and pretend to take pictures of the sign. I say “pretend” because I am still there and can clearly see that they are randomly tapping their screens and nothing is happening. Then, they leave while cursing us and the store.

I go to the manager and laugh a little as I approach.

Me: “I just don’t see how they could not understand.”

Manager: “Oh, they understood. They were just hoping they could catch us in a predicament and scam us. Doesn’t mean I can’t passively insult them as I walk away.”

Me: “So, can I do that next time?”

Manager: “No.”

Good times.

This story was pieced together by a coworker and me. I get a call and it sounds like a teenage boy.

Teenage Boy: “Hi. One of your colleagues is getting shouted at by my dad right now. I’m really sorry about that. He’s been on the phone for twenty minutes if that helps identify him, but anyway, I know what’s wrong. The Internet is down because…”

The teenager goes into some technical issues that are most likely the issue and provides all the security details. We actually get the issue fixed in about five minutes!

Me: “Glad I could help!”

Teenage Boy: “Thank you! I’m going to go and save your colleague now.”

He hangs up, and I take a quick break to walk the floor. It doesn’t take me long to find my flustered coworker being shouted at on the phone. Suddenly, he stops looking so anxious, actually smiles, says the sign-off spiel, and puts down his headset. He tells me this is what went down.

Coworker: “Sir, I am trying to help you, but—”

Coworker’s Caller: “You ain’t trying to do s***! I’m trying to get my Internet back here, and all you’re telling me to do is type in some numbers and all this other complicated s***, and that’s your job! You’re just being lazy!”

Coworker: “Sir, that is just our standard IP address for your router, and—”

Coworker’s Caller: “You think I am dumb? You have the means to fix it from your end, but—”

Suddenly, there is another voice on the call: the teenage boy.

Teenage Boy: “Dad… Dad! The Internet is fixed! Look!”

Coworker’s Caller: “What? But… how?”

Teenage Boy: “I called them and got it fixed. It was pretty simple if you actually just followed their instructions.”

Coworker’s Caller: “But that’s what I have been doing!”

Teenage Boy: “No, Dad, you’ve been being an a**hole. Now hang up the phone! Those poor workers are scored based on call times, and it’s been nearly half an hou—” *Click*

There is hope for the next generation.

This story is part of our Editors’-Favorite-Stories-Of-2023-(so far!) roundup!

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I was working in a restaurant a few years ago. It was pretty late after closing, and I was waiting for the last table to finish eating so I could clean up. It wasn’t my table, but I couldn’t clean around it until they left and my coworker had already tried to hurry them along and pretty much failed. (We had a dumb policy about not directly telling customers that we were closed and that they needed to leave.)

In the meantime, I was doing some other closing work on the other side of the restaurant, talking to another coworker and glancing occasionally over my shoulder to see if they had left yet.

The lady at the table came up to me, demanding to see the manager. I said okay, not really grasping how angry she was, and went to get him. She began to rant about how my coworker and I were laughing about how she and her friends were “dogs”.

In actual fact, my coworker and I were talking about how he was looking after another coworker’s pets while they were out of town and the antics the pets got up to.

In the empty restaurant, they had overheard a few random words and pieced together their own little story about how my coworker and I had nothing better to do than insult them. (It says volumes about their self-image I suppose.)

She unloaded on our manager, who didn’t believe for a second that my coworker and I would even think, much less say anything like that about these women. Knowing there had obviously been some misunderstanding, he called us over to hear our side, and I proceeded to explain how we were having a conversation about a coworker’s pets. I even shared the story that had made us laugh: the family had tried clicker training the dog, and so now the dog would search for the clicker, bring it to someone, step on it, and whine for a treat because that’s what happened when the clicker clicked. Now the clicker had to be hidden in a spot that could be locked.

I swear I saw a look of embarrassment go through her eyes, but she just decided to continue flipping out because admitting she was wrong was out of the question. My coworker and I left the scene so the manager could cool her down. But after she called us rude names for the better part of five minutes, the manager informed her that she was just making a bigger idiot of herself the longer she went. She finally stormed out after paying, and her friends followed soon after.

I work in customer service for Danish customers; however, it is situated in Stockholm together with Swedish customer service. A customer calls in regarding a delayed shipment. It is always sad when this happens, but it does happen.

It turns out the shipping company sent the package in the wrong direction; it is in Norway! I offer to place a replacement order to have it to her as soon as possible. She does not like this; she wants the items the same day, and as I continue to tell her that isn’t possible, the magic words are said.

Customer: “I want to speak to your manager.”

Me: “Very well. You should know my manager doesn’t speak Danish, but he can speak English.”

Customer: “Then give me his manager.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but he doesn’t speak any Scandinavian language.”

Customer: “I want your Danish manager.”

Me: “I don’t have a Danish manager.”

Customer: “Yes, you do! I have spoken to him many times! He is the top manager.”

I realize who she is talking about; he is not at the top, but it might seem that way considering he is at the top of the sales department, which is in Denmark.

Me: “Oh, perhaps you mean the sales manager? Well, he isn’t here, but I can give you his number. You should know, though, that he is not my manager.”

Customer: “Well then, I don’t want to speak with him! I want to speak to your manager!”

Me: “Very well. I’ll get him for you.”

Customer: “And he has to speak Danish!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but he can’t—”

Customer: “I WANT YOUR DANISH MANAGER!”

There is a moment of silence.

Me: “I’ll get my manager for you.”

My manager takes the phone and replies in English.

Manager: “Hello, I’m the manager. What can I help you with?” *Pauses* “I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t understand what you are saying.” *Pauses* “Ma’am…” *Pauses* “Ma’am…” *Pauses* “You know what? [My Name] can help you much better than I can. If she can’t fix your problem, neither can I, and she can understand you.”

He hands the phone back to me.

Customer: “I said I wanted your Danish manager!”

I give her the number to the Danish sales manager, telling her he is Danish and a manager. I also ask if I should proceed with the replacement order, but she says no, so I don’t. I do, however, keep working with the shipping company to reroute the package to the right country.

The next day the sales manager contacts me regarding a customer trying to contact him because [My Name] needs to get fired. Since he has no one there by that name, he assumes she means me, and he wants to know what happened. I tell him everything in detail, as well as the status of the package.

Sales Manager: “All right, I’ll call her.”

The day after that, he calls again.

Sales Manager: “So, the customer wants her order delivered today. Can we do that?”

Me: “No, she refused a replacement order; otherwise, it would’ve been there by now. I can place one now.”

Sales Manager: “No, she wanted you fired, so we won’t do her any favours.”

This was Thursday. Next Monday, the customer calls again.

Customer: “Your manager couldn’t help me, so I was hoping you could help me with a replacement order.”

Me: “Absolutely. Let me just check on your original order first. Let’s see… Yes, it will be delivered today.”

Customer: “Really?”

Me: “Yes, I’ve had them reroute it. A replacement order would’ve been there four to five days ago, but at least now you will have the items before the end of the day.”

Customer: “Oh… Well, I’ll need to call your manager again so he won’t fire you.”

Then, she hung up and I went on about my day. My manager never got any call, so I assume she called “my Danish manager”.

This all started about a month ago at my workplace where I’ve been for the past twelve years.

On that fateful day, I had forgotten my key fob to buzz through the security gate, so I asked the guard — [Guard #1], who I’ve known and chatted to for several years — to let me through. As he was getting up, the moody older guard next to him — [Guard #2] — stopped him and rudely told me to sign in.

Me: “I’ve been working here for over a decade, and I’m known to [Guard #1], so he can vouch for me.”

Guard #2: “It doesn’t matter; it’s a health and safety thing in case there is a fire.”

That’s not true; this is a shared building and each company is responsible for accounting for their staff. I know because I helped set up this plan with the building’s owner.

I explained this to him, but he wasn’t having it and directed me to the sign-in book. Funnily enough, the book had a printed sheet stating that it was for guests only and had a line saying permanent staff should get a sticker to ID themselves. I asked about the sticker.

Guard #2: “This is the new process. You have to sign in and out each time you enter or exit the building without your fob.”

Me: “Are you sure?”

Guard #2: “One hundred percent.”

Fair enough! The UK health and safety body says that, ideally, you should take a five- to ten-minute break each hour away from your computer screen. Not wanting to get a repetitive strain injury or anything, I took it upon myself to take even more regular breaks, especially when [Guard #2] was on shift.

For my breaks, I would go on short walks outside, and wouldn’t you know it? I am getting very forgetful in my old age and kept forgetting to bring in my fob.

Each time I came to sign in, [Guard #2] would need to get up, open his door, and undo his keys to buzz me in. Quite often, I would forget something in my car just as he was about to let me in, and he’d need to make his round trip back to the little office. My record was thirteen little breaks over the day.

After about two weeks of this, I managed to have a catch-up with [Guard #1]. He explained that he had checked and there was definitely not a need for me to sign in each time, and even better, [Guard #2] was constantly moaning to the other security guys about the “idiot” who keeps forgetting his fob.