I took a tech support call. The woman started the call by informing me:

Customer: “I’ll have you know I’ve been working on computers for ten years! I am not going to be talked to like some child.”

“This is gonna go great,” I moaned internally.

Her computer was running slow. We ran through a few things.

Me: “Please shut down your PC and let me know when it’s off.”

About four seconds later:

Customer: “Okay, it’s off.”

Impossible.

Me: “Turn it on again and let me know when we get back to the desktop.”

Three seconds later:

Customer: “Okay, it’s back up.”

Me: “Ma’am, can you tell me exactly how you’re shutting down your computer?”

Here it comes…

She launches into a tirade about how she works on a computer every day at work and blah, blah, blah for about five minutes.

Me: “I understand, ma’am. I’m simply asking the steps to verify that you are taking the proper procedure for this computer.”

Customer: “Of course I am. I push the button on the computer.”

Me: “Is that the computer where you see the images or under your desk?”

Customer: “What do you mean? That’s a stupid question. The computer where the information comes up.”

I take a deep breath.

Me: “Ma’am, that’s not the computer. That’s your monitor.”

Customer: “What? You’re not making sense. That’s how we all shut down our computers at work.”

I explain that at work she doesn’t have a computer but a workstation on a network. I explain that turning off the monitor does not affect the PC at all. Then, I walk her through proper shutdown procedures, and we reboot her PC.

When it reboots, it installs several updates, including multiple driver updates.

Customer: “Hey! You fixed the colors!”

She never mentioned video issues.

Customer: “And it’s running smoother again!”

When I was working at a fast food chain, they implemented a new policy — which none of us liked! — stating that all customers were to be greeted with, “Welcome to [Restaurant]! What will your order be today?”

One night, unbeknownst to us, a local football game at a university was playing and we were suddenly SLAMMED with a massive crowd of fans who stopped in to fuel up after the game. Number of cashiers to deal with them: yours truly. Kitchen staff: two people, maybe? And one drive-thru crew member.

After FINALLY melting the crowd down, I turned to the shift manager to ask if I could go to the break room for a much-needed nervous breakdown. This was when a couple approached my register.

Couple: *In unison* “Welcome to [Restaurant]! What will your order be today?”

They burst into laughter as I stared back, jaw half-open, wearing my best “Just kill me” expression. The manager and my drive-thru coworker stared back as well, clearly irritated.

The couple’s laughter slowly died down.

Couple: “Um, okay can I have the number seven with…”

During an insanely busy weekend before Christmas, a woman is complaining to every associate about how messy our store is. The manager has relieved the girl at the fitting room and is helping to hang stuff. This woman pulls her crap and is trying to make a point that we are messy and a horrible place to shop.

Manager: *Roughly* “Ma’am, we’re messy at the moment because we’re a popular store, and the biggest reason we’re messy is because of people like you who can’t be bothered to pick up after themselves. It’s not the associates making the mess; it’s people like you. Your type has us outnumbered.”

That was the first time I actually witnessed someone deflate.

I work in a family-owned pet food and supply store. We have this program that often has deals like “buy one get one free” for certain products, and when a deal is going on, we’ll put a little paper sign up by the product.

A woman comes in and buys three things: a case of the most expensive cat treats we carry — the case is like $40 — and two small bags of freeze-dried meal mixer things. I ring her up and tell her her total, and the woman gives me the ugliest look.

Customer: “One of these is free.”

She grabs one of the freeze-dried meal mixer bags.

Me: “It didn’t ring up as free…”

Our system is weird. Some of the time, it’s up to date with the program’s deals and will automatically ring it up as such. Other times, we need to enter the stuff into a completely different system to redeem the deals and rewards. It’s a pain.

The customer gets angrier and more aggressive.

Customer: “The sign said it was ‘buy one get one free’.”

I’m about to tell her that she may be right and that I will go check the sign when my manager speaks up.

Manager: “That’s for the kibble. You buy a bag of kibble and get one of the freeze-dried bags free.”

The customer responds in the nastiest tone I’ve heard from someone yet:

Customer: “That’s not what the sign says.”

My manager gets up, and she and the customer go to check the sign. It’s quiet for a moment, and then the woman comes storming from around the corner.

Customer: “YOU KNOW WHAT?! FORGET IT!”

She was absolutely irate. She stormed out the door without any of her stuff. My manager returned to the counter. Just like she’d said, the deal was to buy a bag of kibble and get a bag of freeze-dried meal mixers free.

I work at a tiny pick-up/delivery restaurant in an affluent area by a major university and hospital. Most customers are from surrounding neighborhoods or drunk/high uni students and stressed-out nurses. This is my second job but the first one where I’ve had to deal with customers face-to-face. I was given no training, so it has been a bit of a learning curve.

Enter [Customer], who looks like she was born with not just a chip but a whole block on both shoulders. She comes in and orders one of our more popular items: fried rice. Our fried rice has the option to add a meat for $1 more. She specifically wants shrimp fried rice.

Me: “All right, madam, that’ll be $6.66.”

Customer: *Aghast* “What? But the menu says $5.66!”

Me: “Yes, madam, but meat costs $1.”

Her face fills with pure disbelief and contempt, her lip curling up in growing outrage, and then, she grinds out in a near hiss:

Customer: “SHRIMP IS A MEAT?”

I’m shocked at the ridiculous question. It’s clearly listed under MEATS on the menu, and my brain seems to have stopped functioning.

Me: “Um, yes, madam. Meat is when you partake of a living creature’s flesh, and it used to be a little animal swimming around in the ocean.”

I wiggle a hand to emphasize without thinking because brain now broken. The customer’s eyes grow big with indignation. I brace for yelling; I have enough entitled relatives to recognize the signs. WHY AM I HERE ALONE?! THIS SUCKS!

The customer snorts like an angry bull. I’m surprised she doesn’t slam a fist on the counter; it looks like she wants to but she is holding a clutch purse.

Customer: “HOW DARE YOU?! THIS IS A SCAM! SHRIMP ISN’T A MEAT! THIS IS A RIP-OFF!”

She rants for a bit. I start tuning her out, since she isn’t anything close to as scary as my mom when she’s pissed.

I see her take a breath and I jump in.

Me: “Do you want to order the shrimp fried rice, madam, or perhaps a regular one?”

Customer: “CANCEL IT!”

She storms out through the door. Luckily, it’s propped open; it’s a glass door and would have broken from a good slam.

Me: “Ooookay.”

Fortunately, she never returned and the shift manager — when he returned from a delivery — thought it was hilarious.