I worked in the women’s shoe department at a store. Sometimes, customers would want to order shoes over the phone to be shipped to their houses.

One day, I got a customer call, and she wanted the shoes shipped. We found the shoes and filled all her information out, but when it came time to pay, she wanted to use her credit card. This credit card is with the company, and when you purchase something with the credit card, you get points. Over time, the points you accumulate lead to you getting like ten to twenty dollars off an item. She wanted to use her credit card for points, but she didn’t have the card with her.

Me: “Do you know the number on your card?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Then the only way I can feasibly access your credit card would be for you to give me your social security number. But since that information is confidential, I won’t be able to do that.”

She got really upset with me.

Customer: “I’ve given my social security number at other [Company] locations! What part of this don’t you understand? I need my f****** shoes!”

Me: *Politely* “Do you maybe have another bank card you want to use?”

Customer: “This is getting ridiculous. Let me speak to your manager.”

I passed the phone to my manager. I helped other customers, and I walked by again, and my manager was telling her the exact same thing I had told her.

I live in Saskatchewan (and not on the border with Alberta) which means that we do not observe Daylight Saving Time. This event happens in March, which — as I understand it — is when that change happens in places that do observe DST.

I discover that I am out of my breakfast foods at home, so I make a shopping trip. Since I make bad decisions on an empty stomach, I end up first going to [Fast Food Place], which serves a breakfast menu until 11:00 am and a lunch menu with select all-day breakfast options thereafter.

I approach the till in time to witness the customer already there exploding at the cashier.

Customer: “What do you mean, you don’t have [hamburger] right now?!”

Cashier: “We’re still serving breakfast for another—” *checks clock* “— forty-five minutes. You can order a breakfast item, or you can wait.”

Customer: “I am not gonna wait forty-five minutes for my f****** burger! What kind of restaurant doesn’t have burgers at this hour?”

Me: *Snappily* “The kind of restaurant that knows it’s not 11:00 yet.”

Customer: “Like h*** it’s not.”

Me: *Checking my phone* “It’s not. It’s 10:16.”

Customer: “It should be 11:00 already! What, did you dumba**es forget to spring forward?”

“Spring forward, fall back” is a DST mnemonic that showed up in something I was reading recently, which tells me what this guy’s mistake is.

Me: “Welcome to Saskatchewan. Daylight Saving Time is not a thing.”

Customer: “What the f***? What kind of dumba** says DST isn’t a thing?”

Me: *Very snappily* “The kind of dumba** who knows that f****** with your clocks achieves less than nothing. Now, are you gonna order off the breakfast menu, or are you gonna get lost? Because yelling at people isn’t going to get you a [hamburger] any faster.”

The customer ended up yelling for a manager, who told him exactly what the cashier and I had told him (albeit in more formal language than I used). Then, he continued to yell at the manager until he was told that he was being denied service.

I ended up ordering my breakfast from the cashier while he was facing off with the manager, and I got my meal to go.

Related:
Daylight Save Me From This Stupidity

I’m a cashier at a dealership. A service advisor brings me a customer. While I look for his keys and paperwork, I hear the service advisor explaining what was done to the vehicle. I find the paperwork and give the keys to the service advisor so he can pull the car up while I take the customer’s payment.

Me: “Okay, your total is [amount].”

Customer: *Rudely* “I want to see what was done.”

Me: “Okay.”

I hand the customer his paperwork. The guy pulls out a cigarette that has obviously just been put out and sticks it in his mouth. Since he’s not actively smoking, it’s technically not illegal and I can’t say anything to him. However, cigarette smoke is my only real asthma trigger and I can smell it through the glass and my mask. I’m slightly tense, trying not to breathe too much, and it’s making my eyes start to water. The guy huffs and puffs as he pulls out his credit card and jams it into the machine.

Me: “I need a signature here and here.”

I mark where he needs to sign. Right next to him is a cup marked “Used Pens”, and I have a cup marked “Clean Pens” on my side of the glass. I hand him a clean pen and staple his credit card slip to his paperwork.

Me: “Thank you. Please put the pen in that cup. This is your paperwork, and [Service Advisor] will have your car pulled up outside.”

The customer throws his pen onto the counter next to the cup and grabs the paperwork from me. I’m not sure if he heard me.

Me: “Please put the pen in that cup.”

Customer: “You have such an attitude! Where’s your manager? This is no way to treat a customer! Get me your manager!”

I turned around and used my desk phone to call my manager’s extension. The phone hadn’t even rung once when the guy disappeared. I reached through the small hole in the glass and put the pen into the cup.

By the time my manager came down less than a minute later, the guy had left the lot. I guess she took too long? The service manager didn’t say anything to me, either, so I don’t know what that guy’s problem was.

I am working at the checkout when a customer comes up with two bottles of wine. At first glance, I usually look a lot younger than I am because I’ve never been able to properly grow facial hair.

Me: “Can I see your ID, please?”

The customer hands over his ID.

Customer: *Scoffing* “I’m old enough to be your father!”

I check his ID and smirk.

Me: “You’re younger than me by five years less two days.”

I hand his ID back and process the sale

Me: “That’s [amount]. Will it be cash or card?”

He stared at me for a long time before blushing and literally slapping the reader with his card before I could press the option, so he had to do it over again. It was quite a rewarding — though awkward — minute to get through.

I have been “requested” to take over a low-level manager’s position as our last one has quit. [Manager] is several tiers above me and is personally responsible for several people walking out in the middle of a shift. He reminds me of the guy who peaked in high school and spent the rest of his life bullying and gaslighting those around him. He is built like an offensive lineman and often uses that size to intimidate people. I am five feet tall and 110 pounds, so I’m used to people trying to use my stature against me. I think it annoys him that I can’t be bullied by size alone.

Me: “It’s a promotion?”

Manager: “It’s filling a need until a new person is hired to take over.”

Me: “So, I will receive no extra compensation, but I will have more responsibilities?”

Manager: “I can suggest that you formally take over the position when it opens up.”

Me: “But it’s open now, right? That’s why we’re here.”

Manager: *Annoyed* “We would consider you for the position if this arrangement works out.”

Me: “Again, more to do, but no more money to do it. And now no set time frame for how long I would be doing this.”

Manager: *Throwing his arms up* “Is money all that matters to you?”

Me: “Since I’m here to work, it is very important.”

Manager: “I thought you were ready to step up for [Company], but clearly, you’re too immature.”

Me: “I think it’s quite mature to recognize that you’re trying to short me.”

Manager: “Get out of my office, [My Name].”

I left and spread the word to all my coworkers that they were looking for someone to be the low-level manager but did not want to compensate for it. No one took the job offer and it took several weeks to hire someone new to fill the position.