CONTENT WARNING: Animal Abuse, Death

The phone rings.

Coworker: “Thank you for calling [Pet Store]. This is [Coworker]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Hi, do you sell Winter White hamsters?”

Coworker: “Yes, we do. Do you need any help or information with them?”

Caller: “Well, you see, I bought a hamster from you about a year and a half ago, and it was almost always covered in bloody scabs, cysts, and other unsightly disgusting wounds! It recently died!”

My coworker is surprised and a bit confused.

Coworker: “Oh, I am sorry to hear that.”

Caller: “I blame you.”

Coworker: “I’m sorry?”

Caller: “I blame you people for selling sick animals! I bought another one from you back in September, and that one died, as well.”

Coworker: “Ma’am, all of our animals are looked over by a certified veterinarian. And once we get them in the store, they’re isolated for a few days to help us further watch for any possible diseases. We also offer a two-week guarantee on all of our animals, so if there is some sort of problem with the animal, you can always bring it back and we can refund you. Are you sure you got this hamster from us?”

Caller: “Yes!”

My coworker starts trying to do some detective work because there is NO WAY an animal that ill could’ve been sold.

Coworker: “Ma’am, what kind of bedding were you using for these hamsters?”

Caller: “I use pine bedding.”

Pine bedding is INCREDIBLY toxic for small animals. They tend to have an allergic reaction to the bedding, which may cause symptoms as the hamsters had. My coworker tells her how toxic pine bedding is for small animals.

Caller: “Listen. I’ve been breeding and raising hamsters for ten years. I know what I’m talking about, and you don’t have to explain that to me!”

Coworker: “Okay, ma’am. What would you like me to do, then?”

Caller: “I’d like to speak to a manager.”

My coworker handed the phone over to the manager on duty. Unfortunately, he ended up giving her a 25%-off ticket for her next hamster purchase. The catch? Apparently, the hamster that died was female. We have never sold any female hamsters; she got the hamster from another store and not us. I still don’t understand why she didn’t take the poor thing to the vet and not let it live its life with such horrid wounds.

I used to work for one of the big electronics retailers before they closed in 2009. One day, I was walking through what was called the “Merch” department — video games, consoles, computer games, cordless phones, computer parts, and weird random things. I walked up to a guy looking through the bargain bin for clearance video games.

Me: “Hi, finding everything all right?”

The “customer” — and I use the term loosely — turned around with a “You got me” look on his face, said as much as he handed me the Gameboy Advance SP he had conspicuously sticking out of the front of his pants, and promptly walked out.

I was left standing there confused as I couldn’t believe someone would think no one would notice something half the size of a cereal box sticking out of their pants.

I told one of the managers, who put in for me to get a theft prevention bonus. That left me just as confused because all I did was greet the guy.

Me: “What time did you fax that and what time zone are you in?”

Caller: “I’m in Daylight Savings time.”

(I’m checking out a customer. She’s nice. I get to her hard lemonade and ask for ID, and she instantly starts up with an elaborate story about her ID being stuck in a totaled car as she gives me a well-worn, stained by who knows what, bad photocopy of an out-of-state ID.)

Me: “This doesn’t count as a legal ID.”

Customer: *after going back into her story about a car crash* “Get me your manager!”

Me: “Okay.”

(I listen to her keep repeating the same story. My manager comes and says the same thing. His manager comes and says the same thing. THAT guy’s manager comes and says the same thing. All the while, this woman is ranting her head off, making the story more and more horrific, and starting to scream.)

Customer: “You don’t understand my situation!” *turns to one of the male managers* “And you’re a potato face! All you want to know is if I’m over 21! I’m 26! I’m a grown-a** woman!”

(At that, a man she was with who brought over a huge stuffed animal and has been half-a**ed trying to back her up says:

Man: “Yeah! And she–” *pointing at me* “–looks like she’s 19!”

Me: *all flirty smiles* “You think so? I love hearing that! I’ll take it!”

(The crazy customer loses her mind again while I pretend to flirt with the guy following her. After she stomps off…)

Guy: “How much is this?”

Me: “$50 before tax.”

Guy: “But it—”

Me: “Don’t even. I’m 34. You and I both know kids move those big stuffed animals around. And you and I both know your friend just screamed the F word in front of tons of families over overpriced, weak drinks.”

Guy: “I’ll take it back.”

Me: “It’s okay. I’m going on my lunch now. I’ll take him with me and put him in the right spot.”

(As I’m signing out for the next cashier to come in, the person behind them walks up.)

Next Customer: “You’re so calm I’m terrified.”

Me: “I do that to people.”

(And I flounced off with a stuffed dog that was half my size.)

(I work at the customer service phone center of a credit union.)

Customer: “Hi, I was just wondering who my car carrier was?”

Me: “…?”

Customer: “My car carrier. For insurance?”

Me: “Do you mean you want to know your insurance carrier’s name?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “You don’t know who holds your car insurance?”

Customer: “No. I’m moving and all my files are boxed up. I thought it was [Company], but they said it wasn’t.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be dense, but why would we know this?”

Customer: “Well, you asked for that information when you loaned me the money to buy the car.”

Me: “Okay, well, I’ll try to find that out. Please hold.”

(I call the IT department, on the basis that since they store information, they might know where it is.)

IT Department: “Help Desk.”

Me: “Yes, I need help to find a member’s auto insurance carrier.”

IT Department: “Why?”

Me: “She doesn’t know what it is.”

IT Department: “What?!”

Me: “Yes, I know, but she said we required this information when we loaned her the money. Do we have it?”

IT Department: “Let me connect you to Loan Servicing.”

(I hold.)

Loan Servicing: “Loan Servicing.”

Me: “Yes, I need help to find out what a member’s car insurance carrier is.”

Loan Servicing: “Why do we need to know that?”

Me: “We don’t; she does.”

Loan Servicing: “What?!”

Me: “Yes, I know.”

Loan Servicing: “Well, let me see here… No, we don’t have it. Tell her it’s not something we keep on file.”

Me: “Right.”

(And, alas, I was able to tell her nothing else.)