(I work at a massage clinic and spa where we employ several massage therapists who all set their own schedules. Some work plenty of hours, and others work much more limited time slots, which is why we encourage their clients to book out as far out in advance as possible so they can stay with their preferred therapist. A married couple has just been in, both of them very loyal to one particular therapist who only works weekends and is incredibly popular. Most people, when hearing that [Therapist] is booked out solid for two months, are understandably disappointed but are willing to try a different therapist in the meantime. This customer is not one of those people.)

Me: “It looks like [Therapist] isn’t available until [date two months from now].”

Customer: “What? Are you kidding me? That’s unacceptable!”

Me: “I’m sorry sir. If you’d like, I can put you and your husband on our cancellation list in case anything opens up. In the meantime, we could schedule you with someone else—”

Customer: “No! I refuse to let anyone except [Therapist] touch me! It’s ridiculous that I have to book out that far and have your membership take money from me when I can’t get appointments!”

Husband: *trying to calm his spouse* “We usually book out a couple months out because he’s busy. We let it slip the last few times.”

Customer: “That doesn’t matter! It’s bad customer service! If I ran my business like this, I wouldn’t be in business right now!”

Me: “If you’d like, sir, we could waive your next few payments so you don’t have to worry about your membership fees—”

Customer: *interrupting* “Stop trying to make me happy! You won’t! This is terrible customer service!”

Me: “I do apologize for the inconvenience—”

Customer: *interrupting me YET AGAIN* “It isn’t your fault! But this awful service!”

Me: *internally wondering why he’s yelling at me if this isn’t my fault*

(The customer finally leaves to go smoke. His husband approaches the counter looking embarrassed by the whole incident — as I try not to burst into tears — and books a few appointments out before leaving promptly. My coworker has witnessed the whole thing.)

Coworker: “What does he mean by ‘bad customer service’?! If [Therapist] is booked up that far in advance, it means he’s really good!”

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(‘m working a fairly slow shift with my manager when a young woman with her two children enters the store carrying a bag.)

Me: “Hi, welcome to [Store]. What can I help you with this evening?”

Customer: “I bought these candles a couple weeks ago for my mother, but she said she’d rather have some of the flameless ones like I have at home.”

(She sets the candles on the counter, and immediately I know something’s up: the candles are clearly melted like they’ve been sitting in her car for most of the summer and the scents she claims to have bought a few weeks ago we stopped selling a few months ago.)

Me: “All right, do you have your receipt?”

Customer: “Oh, no, my son threw it away just now.”

Me: “I can try to look it up for you, no problem.”

Customer: *uncomfortable* “Oh, sure, but can’t you just put it on a merchandise card? What if I exchanged them for candles of equal value?””

Me: “Well, I’d still need your original receipt to issue the exchange. Only managers can issue something on merchandise credit without the receipt, and she’s helping another customer at the moment.”

(Earlier I’d shown her children a cat-shaped pen that meows which we have as an impulse buy item at the register. I notice her son take it apart and put it in his mouth. This is the last cat pen we have.)

Me: “Uh, ma’am?”

(She takes the pen and hands it to me. Since it’s been in his mouth we’re going to have to damage it out if she doesn’t buy it. She then starts “looking” for her receipt while I attempt to keep her son from playing with the card reader and some expensive hand-blown glass decorations. Eventually my manager finishes with her customer and comes in to help, explaining that without a receipt, we don’t accept returns. The woman leaves with the candles and her children.)

Manager: “Looks like you’ve met [Customer].”

(Turned out, the customer had a bad habit of buying things at seasonal sales and trying to come back months later to return them. We had to damage out the pen since she didn’t want to buy it.)

(I’m on the phone with a customer.)

Me: “Okay, is there anything else you’d like to add?”

Customer: “Could you throw in an order of breadsticks, and—”

Little Kid: “Hi, Mr. Pizza Man!”

Customer: “Get off the phone!”

(I was laughing through the rest of the order.)

(I work in a craft store. We stock bouncy balls; kids and adults alike constantly bounce them, which is annoying and dangerous because we have glass. A mom and son are in our store. The son is bouncing a ball.)

Me: “Hey, please don’t bounce the ball in the store. We’ve got a lot of glass in here. Thanks!”

(The mom looks at me with this confused look but says nothing. Two minutes later, the mom comes up to me.)

Mom: “You know, I wasn’t going to let him bounce that around glass.”

Me: *thinking she was trying to explain why her kid was misbehaving* “Oh, no, it’s okay. Happens all the time.”

Mom: “Well, I had it under control.”

Me: “Really, it’s fine.”

Mom: *gets snarky* “I just thought it was really rude of you.”

Me: “Oh, um, I’m sorry?”

(The mom stomped off. Luckily, my manager heard the whole thing and took my side, but we were both clearly baffled by how a mom would let her kid misbehave, then get mad when someone else has to step in.)

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(I am stocking shelves when a customer comes up to me. I can tell he has no idea what he is looking for, and can tell that he was sent to get an item.)

Me: “Hi, can I help you find something?”

Customer: “Yes, I am looking at all the cake mixes, and can not find any that are for cupcakes.”

Me: “It is the same mix for either a whole cake or cupcakes. If you look at the back of the box, it shows you all the information for cupcakes.”

Customer: “But my wife sent me for chocolate cupcake mix. She will yell at me if I don’t get one called cupcake mix.”

(By this time the wife comes down the aisle.)

Wife: “Did you get the cake mix for the cupcakes?”

Husband: “No, there is not one called cupcake mix.”

Wife: *turns to me* “Is he that stupid to think it is a different mix?”

Me: “I tried to show him that it is the same mix, but he was afraid that you would yell at him.”