Imagine If His Numbers Came Up That Night?

, , , , | Right | June 14, 2018

(One day, an older gentleman has a medical issue causing him to lose control of his vehicle. After he loses control, his truck jumps the sidewalk, barrels through our parking lot, and crashes through one of our large windows. There is now gasoline leaking from his car throughout the store, and the crash knocked out the electricity and knocked over a large section of shelving. This conversation happens while they are pulling his truck out of the building.)

Regular: “Are you guys open?”

Me: *looks over at the ambulances, fire truck, and large tow truck, and then at the large truck jutting out from the store* “No, we can’t even enter the store to get our personal items.”

Regular: “Are you sure? I really need my lottery.”

(The older gentlemen was fine besides getting a broken ring and pinky finger, and no customers were in the store besides, luckily, an off-duty EMT.)

A Vertical Slice Of Bad Customers

, , , , | Right | June 14, 2018

(I’m delivering a pizza. At the time, the standard tip is $1 to $3. Also, for safety reasons, we only carry about $20 in small bills for change.)

Me: *starting my standard spiel as the door opens* “Good evening. Your order comes to…”

(Instead of an adult, a little boy of about three has answered. He’s got a bunch of money in one of his fists.)

Mother: *from far side of apartment* “Give him the money, sweetie.”

(The boy holds up his fist with the money, and I take it from him. With bills and coins, the amount he’s given me is the exact total; no tip is included.)

Me: *not wanting to give a hot pizza to a little child* “Ma’am, do you want to come get this?”

Mother: “No, give it to [Boy]. He can handle it.”

(I hand the pizza to the boy as carefully as I can. He turns away, holding the pizza vertically, and the door closes. I resign myself to getting no tip; it happens.)

Mother: *opening door as I’m walking away* “Oh, wait! Do you have change for a $20?”

Me: *thinking she’s going to tip me from breaking her $20* “Sure, ma’am. Here’s 5, 10, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, and 20.”

Mother: *recounts change* “Okay, thanks! Bye!” *closes door without tipping*

(I then had to continue to my next delivery without any change, and without a tip.)

Leaked Their Scam

, , , , , | Right | June 13, 2018

(In early 2012, I’m selling my PT Cruiser as part of getting ready to take a job in Japan. I have had a woman test the car and am getting ready to turn it over to her, but her husband decides to do one last check.)

Husband: “Well, you have an oil leak, so I can’t take it for the asking price. I will pay you [less than half what I am asking].”

Me: *knowing that my car consumes barely any oil at all, much less enough to account for a leak* “Where’s this leak?”

Husband: “Right there, see? And there.” *points out a couple of wet spots on the parking lot under my car*

Me: *now uncertain* “Well, my garage never mentioned an oil leak; let me have it checked out again and I’ll get back to you.”

Husband: “They’re just going to say what you want to hear. Take my offer or leave it.”

Me: “Okay, bye.”

(He gives a surprised expression and I leave. I am living with my parents in the lead-up to leaving and my father has this to say.)

Father: “I know for a fact you don’t have a leak. If you did, we’d have oil stains in the driveway.”

(I eventually sold it to a national used car chain for slightly less than my asking, because the only thing wrong with it was cosmetic damage. It was in better shape than most Cruisers its age.)

You Won That Throwdown

, , , , , | Right | June 13, 2018

(I work in a small specialty mall store, and my manager is awesome. Cell phones aren’t a thing yet, so we are very eager to help anyone and otherwise find ways to amuse ourselves. One day, a super-important-type comes in looking for a blacklight for his kid. The guy is an a**hole the entire half-hour I deal with him, and then I get to ring him up for his purchase.)

Me: “That’ll be [amount].” *extends hand for payment*

Customer: *throws a couple bills at me, deliberately under my outstretched hand, not saying anything*

Me: *digging for change; looks over at manager*

Manager: *nods in the affirmative*

Me: *throws change at rude guy* “Here’s your bag! Have a great day, and thanks for shopping with us!”

Manager: *laughing, walks to the back*

Their Disbelief Has Been Suspended

, , , , , | Right | June 13, 2018

(I work in an office where we regulate and assist realtors in business, and they pay us for their memberships to different services. The billing cycle has been the same for at least fifteen years. They are given ten days to pay, beyond which point their membership becomes suspended for a month, then finally terminated. Throughout this process we fairly spam them with notices and alerts to make sure they know what is happening. Still, my day is filled with this type of call. This particular customer calls me after we’ve sent out the seventh and final notice.)

Me: “Thank you for calling.” *I do my standard greeting on the phone*

Customer: “Yeah, my account isn’t working.”

Me: *knowing full well why* “Okay, let me go ahead and look up your account.”

(I look him up and see he indeed owes two sets of payments, and has now been charged late fees after the two-week grace period.)

Me: “Okay, sir, it seems that your memberships were due, and as they have not yet been paid, your account was suspended.”

Customer: “No, you all said I had until the end of the month to pay.”

Me: “Well, yes, at the end of the month we have to terminate you, so you have until the end of the month before you lose your membership. However, as it says on your invoices, you have until the 10th to pay before late fees are assigned and your account is suspended. It is now the 21st.”

Customer: “Yeah, I saw that, but you didn’t tell me you would turn off my f***ing account so I can’t use it!”

Me: *unsure what to say to that* “I’m sorry; we thought saying, ‘Your account will be suspended,’ would convey that.”

Customer: “You need to change your invoice. The word ‘suspended’ doesn’t make any sense! And I can’t believe you are making me pay a late fee! I’ve been a realtor for 25 years with you, and this s*** is f****** ridiculous”

Me: *at this point his belligerence has made me cut to the chase* “We gave you a month and half to pay, emailed you seven times, put it on our social media pages, our website, and added a pop up to the system that made you scroll down and click, ‘I understand,’ before it would go away. The due date hasn’t changed for at least 15 years, and you’ve been paying on the same date, so I’m not sure why this time you would have forgotten when they were due.”

Customer: *long pause* “F****** can’t believe this!” *hangs up on me*

(Sometimes I’m frightened at the thought that these people are handling such huge, life-changing transactions for people!)

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