Green Tea Makes Her See Red

, , , | Right | October 1, 2018

(I work at an extremely high-volume coffee shop where the line is almost always out the door. We have one regular customer who is extremely rude to both the cashiers and the baristas. We pretty much bend over backwards for her every time she comes in to avoid getting screamed at. For our regular customers we offer “loyalty cards,” and you get a stamp for each drink you purchase.)

Me: “Hi! How are you today?”

Customer: “Green tea.”

Me: “Okay, you like the tea hot, and in a mug, right?”

Customer: *doesn’t answer me, stares at her phone*

Me: “Okay, that will be $3.21”

Customer: *hands me her loyalty card and cash*

(I proceeded to stamp her loyalty card and give her back her change. She looks down at her loyalty card with a disgusted look on her face. It is obvious something is wrong, but she doesn’t say anything.)

Me: “I’m sorry, is anything wrong, ma’am?”

Customer: “I know that I had more stamps than this on my card. You gave me back the wrong one.”

Me: *very confused* “Okay, let me check the counter to make sure I didn’t accidentally swap cards.”

(I check.)

Me: “I’m really sorry, but there aren’t any other loyalty cards on the counter, and I always just stamp the card and give it right back. If you’d like, I can give you an extra stamp or two, since you come in so often?”

(She doesn’t respond and proceeds to stare at me. This goes on for about five very long seconds, until…)

Customer: “MY GREEN TEA!”

(I got her her tea, and later she hunted down my manager and let him know just how terrible my customer service was, and that she was swindled out of a loyalty card. As she was leaving, she stormed up to the register, demanded to know my name, and then wrote a very nasty review where she mentioned me by name. She still comes in a few times a week. I usually duck to the back and let someone else take her order.)

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He’ll Have A Pie In The Sky

, , , , , | Right | October 1, 2018

(I work at my mother’s cafe in an airport, where we make all of our food fresh. To give an example of this situation that happens at least once a day, I will use the customer that just came to our counter. He is booked for the 2:00 flight, which usually opens the security checkpoint at 1:15. He has stepped into the cafe at 12:15. He grabs a juice out of the cooler and comes up to the counter with it.)

Me: “Hello. Will that be all, sir?”

Customer: “Ah, yeah. I’ve got two hours before my flight, so I might get something to eat later.”

Me: *knows where this is going* “All right, that’ll be [price].”

(The customer pays and takes a seat at one of our tables. An hour passes until the airport speaker comes on.)

Speaker: “For those passengers who have checked in and received a boarding pass for [flight], the security checkpoint is now open, and we ask that you please process through security in preparation for boarding.”

Customer: *comes up to the counter* “I’ll have a bacon double cheeseburger, with onion rings and a large [soda], and please make it quick because we’re about to board.”

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Euro No No

, , , , , | Right | October 1, 2018

(I am on vacation in Santorini, Greece with a few friends, exploring the town. There is a vendor selling noise-makers and other cute children’s toys on a mat in the square outside a church. An American woman is with her small child, who is playing with the toys, and the following exchange occurs.)

Customer: “I guess we’ll take one of these bouncy balls. How much?”

Vendor: “Three.”

Customer: *hands the man an American $10 bill* “Here you go.”

Vendor: “I can’t take this.”

Customer: “Why not? You said it was three dollars.”

Vendor: “No, euros.”

Customer: “What?! Why didn’t you say so? I don’t have any euros. Just take this. You can even keep the change.”

Vendor: “This is not America; I don’t take American money.”

Customer: “Okay, here’s a card.”

Vendor: “No, euros only.”

(This goes on for a bit, the woman getting angrier. The vendor eventually shakes his head in a final “no,” and she storms off towards us.)

Customer: “Could you believe him?! I can’t believe he wouldn’t take my money.”

Me: “Well, we are… you know… in Greece…”

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Not In Receipt Of All The Facts

, , , , | Right | October 1, 2018

(I work in a pet store. I’m the only manager on the floor, and one night a customer approaches my cashier with several receipts but no items.)

Customer: *points at a $50 product on her receipts* “Can you tell me what this is?”

(Items are usually listed on the receipt with a ten-digit UPC, a price, and a brief description. Sometimes the description clearly says what the item is, like, “tp collar blue,” but more commonly it’s a jumble of abbreviations and random letters. I look at the receipt and see that this case is the latter.)

Me: “Well, what did you purchase? If we can get a description of the item, we can go find its section and narrow it down to the matching UPC.”

Customer: “I don’t remember what I purchased! Can’t you just tell me what I bought?”

Me: “Unfortunately, ma’am, if we look up the UPC on the register, it will just give us the same description that’s on your receipt. Do you have any recollection at all about what you bought? Do you still have the item?”

Customer: “No! My mother is going to return it in another state! I just need to know what it is!”

Me: “So… your mother has your items? She will probably have better luck at the store where she returns it, since she has the actual purchase. Even without a receipt, they will at least have the item and barcode. Maybe you could ask her what she’s returning?”

Customer: *shoves the receipt at me again* “Are you telling me that you don’t know what I purchased? I have the receipt! Can’t you just type in the numbers somewhere and get a picture of the item or something?”

Me: “I’m sorry; ma’am, but our registers don’t have that feature.”

(The customer stormed out, completely enraged that I didn’t know what she’d purchased when even SHE didn’t know! Did she expect me to have the hundreds of thousands of items in the store memorized by their ten-digit UPC numbers?)

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Having A Bleached-Blonde Moment

, , , , , , | Friendly | October 1, 2018

(I’m seventeen years old and I have my hair dyed an unnatural color, as well has having the typical “butch” haircut. I walk into the [Retailer] by my school to buy some coffee and breakfast. The instant the door greeter sees me, her face lights up with righteous anger.)

Door Greeter: “Miss, you’re so pretty; why the h*** would you put that green in your hair?!”

(My hair is blue.)

Me: *taken aback* “Um, because it’s my favorite color?”

Door Greeter: *splutters in disbelief and scorn*

(I quickly walked into the store before she regained her composure, and made sure to exit through the doors on the opposite side. The kicker? She had the brassiest, fakest bleached-blonde hair I’ve ever seen.)

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