I work for my college’s dining services in a kiosk located in one of our largest buildings.

We have a regular come up to order.

Regular: “Mocha without espresso.”

Me: “That’s just a hot chocolate.”

Regular: “No, it’s a mocha. Just take out the espresso.”

Me: “I can ring that up for you, but I’m just telling you because a hot chocolate is cheaper while still being the same thing.”

She cannot get it through her head that milk and chocolate syrup without espresso is hot chocolate. I give up and just charge her for a hot chocolate, make it, and give it to her.

A few days later, she comes back to the counter, exceptionally angry.

Regular: “Why does my receipt say hot chocolate?!”

Me: “I was charging you less money.”

As I said, I’d given up on explaining the other part.

Regular: “Refund that and re-ring me up as a mocha without espresso!”

She threw her card at me. I gave up trying to understand and just did as I was told. Strange way to pay fifty cents more.

Related:
Making A Mocha-ry Of Yourself, Part 3
Making A Mocha-ry Of Yourself, Part 2
Making A Mocha-ry Of Yourself

This is not word for word, since I don’t think I will be able to translate it properly that way, but I still tried.

I like being a little troll when I can, and those kiosks in shopping centers with overly pushy workers are usually a great way for me to do so. I usually only do this when they go overboard and get too pushy; I don’t mess with the decent ones since nobody likes their time wasted.

This kiosk was selling some sort of subscription for some makeup and body care products. As I went by, the lady almost jumped in front of me to get my attention, which worked. I couldn’t process what happened at first because she appeared in front of me so fast, and she took the time while I was processing to start her spiel about the products and subscription plan. I remember that when she finally took a breath, I told her that I was not really interested. She didn’t take it too well.

Customer: *With a slightly disgusted look* “Well, it would only benefit you!“

And with that, she grabbed me by my arm and pulled me toward the kiosk to try and sign me up for this garbage. This is when I decided that she was a perfect candidate for one of the little plans I had been coming up with in the past month. Thankfully, she even started with the exact question I needed.

She finished looking for her papers and looked at me with a disgustingly sweet smile.

Customer: “All right, I will just need you to give me your name, email address, and phone number!

Me: “…what?”

Customer: “Ugh, your name?”

Me: “I don’t want to give it to you, though.”

Customer: “But I will need you to.”

Me: “I can’t; it’s mine.”

Customer: *Confused* “Uh…”

I started to look incredibly scared in a really fake way.

Me: “I… I can’t give it to you; it’s mine. If I do that, I will have no name! What will I do then?! I will have no identity!”

The lady started to look more worried. Her smile was gone, and she was trying to respond, but she only managed to act like a fish outside of water.

I took my chance, turned around, and started fast-walking away, only to be greeted by the sight of a mall security guard staring at the situation and trying his hardest not to laugh.

I had to book it out of there faster to not burst out laughing myself. At least I made someone’s day better other than mine with my tirade.

I work in concessions for college sports. Today is one of the biggest football games of the year against the college’s biggest rival, so we are absolutely slammed. Officially, I’m a runner for the night, but the runner for the register next to mine has to make a quick bathroom trip, so in the meantime, I’m getting food and bottled drinks for his register, listening to customers for orders since the cashiers are terrible at calling them back and don’t like leaving the registers, trying to restock dwindling supplies, and pouring cups of hot cocoa and coffee.

I’m a little overwhelmed.

I’m in the middle of filling a hot cocoa when I hear this order at the nearest register.

Customer: “Just a [candy], please.”

The candy rack is within reach, so I grab his candy. However, I have my finger on the button to pour the hot cocoa and don’t want to leave it, since it’s our biggest item of the night, and every second counts.

Me: “[CANDY] INCOMING!”

I chuck it through the air, and it slides perfectly halfway across the counter. The cashier blinks like she’s not sure what just happened, but she’s already rung the order through so there’s not much she can do.

Customer: “Woah. You guys are dedicated!”

I would’ve said something in return, but I already had two more orders to fill!

I’m working a stall in the mall. It’s the start of the week and I’m going through the new stock replacing the sold stuff. We have had quite a few bad parts come from our supplier, so I’m drawing an X on the packet and putting them into a box with “Do not sell” written on it.

Customer: “What are those?”

Me: “Oh, damaged or defective parts. We have plenty of good parts on the shelves.”

Customer: “Can I look through them? I don’t mind if they are a bit tatty.”

Me: “Sorry, they are not for sale.”

Customer: “Oh, come on. I will pay.”

Me: “Sorry, no. We sold them before. More often than not, people want a refund or bad-mouth us online because it’s damaged. We only sell good products.”

Customer: “You are going to lose a sale.”

Me: “Well, I will just get a full refund from my supplier. I’m not going to lose anything.”

Customer: “That is just stupid.”

Me: “Unfortunately, that’s the rules.”

He complained for a while, before not buying anything anyway. My point was proven when another customer tried to return a case — she had no receipt and no idea when she’d bought it, and she didn’t even have the phone that went with it — with one of my big Xs on it.

During college, I work in a concessions stand. I am alone in the stand, working a very slow game. We have a standard coffeemaker, but since I’ve never drunk coffee, I have no idea how to use it. There’s not much left in the pot when I get there.

Customer: “I’ll have a cup of coffee, please.”

Me: “It’ll be from the bottom of the pot. Are you feeling brave?”

I had this conversation several times with several different customers. Every single one of them laughed and ordered something else. I ended up not selling that bottom-of-the-pot coffee; when my coworker came along, she dumped it and showed me how to brew a fresh pot.