(It is a policy at our venue that if you buy tickets online and pick them up in the box office, you must show the purchaser’s ID or the credit card they used, even if they are not present. “So-and-so said I could have their tickets,” is not a valid excuse.)

Customer: “Hi, I’m picking up tickets for [Buyer].”

Me: “Okay, can I see your ID?”

Customer: “Oh, that’s not me. He’s not coming, so he said I could have the tickets.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I need to see [Buyer]’s ID or his credit card in order to give you his tickets.”

Customer: “No, it’s okay; he gave me permission. Here, it’s written right here.”

(He hands me a folded piece of paper through the ticket slot. I open it to find a printed screenshot of an email, the right half of which is cut off so I can’t even read the whole message.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but this doesn’t really tell me anything. I can’t let you have those tickets without an ID.”

(I hand him the paper back through the window.)

Customer: *getting angry* “Look, if you’ll just read it, it says right here. He is letting me have his tickets because he can’t make it.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I have no way of knowing who that email is from or who it is addressed to, and half of it is cut off.”

Customer: *trying to shove the paper back through the window* “Just read it! It says right here!”

Me: “I can’t accept this. You’ll need to get his ID or credit card, or I can’t give you the tickets.”

(He snatches the paper back without a word. I watch as he goes over to the venue entrance and waves the paper in the poor ticket-taker’s face until a manager shows up. The manager takes a look for himself, says something to the customer, and then disappears around the corner and comes into the box office.)

Manager: “Let him have the tickets. That paper is bulls***, but I know the guy who bought the tickets, and I know he ended up not being able to come.”

(I find the tickets and hand them to the customer.)

Customer: “There, see? If you had just read the email this would have been so much easier!”

(I am talking to my boss when a woman says this to one of my coworkers:)

Women: “Hi, this might sound a bit crazy, but you may want to get an officer down here. There is a suspicious container on the street and I’m concerned it may be meth.”

(My coworker relays this to my boss — the owner — and me.)

Boss: “Yeah, we don’t deal with that. You–” *meaning me/senior staff* “–should call the police.”

(I call the dispatch.)

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name] at [Store]. We had a woman report a suspicious container that she is concerned might be meth, so we thought we would call it in.”

Dispatcher: “Yes, I’ll send an officer right down. I need your full name for the report.”

(I begrudgingly give him my whole name, meaning that this whole thing is attached to my name in their system. An officer comes down a few minutes later and I meet him at the back by the container.)

Officer: “This it?”

Me: “Yeah…”

Officer: *picks it up* “If this is meth they suck at it…” *opens and sniffs it* “This is duck sauce; I’m going to throw it away.”

Me: “Okay… Sorry… Thanks…”

(There is a police report with my name that says I reported suspicious duck sauce. Thanks, random lady.)

(I’m a supervisor at a grocery store chain. At my store, we sell two different kinds of store gift cards: one that’s open-ended, and one that’s restricted to grocery items only. The open card can be used to purchase tobacco and alcohol, but the restricted card can not. We put refunds onto the restricted cards when the customer doesn’t have a receipt and the refund is over a certain amount, to deter theft. On this day, one of my cashiers had taken a no-receipt refund that needed to be put on a gift card before I got to work, and when I’m clocked in she warns me that the customer was unhappy with getting a gift card and not cash, and that he said he would call to complain. A few hours later, I take a phone call and have the following conversation.)

Customer: “I have this gift card for your store, and it says something on it that I don’t understand.”

Me: “Can you please read it to me?”

Customer: “It says, ‘Not to be used for tobacco/alcohol purchases.’ What does that mean? I can’t buy booze with this?”

Me: “That’s correct.”

Customer: “That’s bulls***. So, I can come to your store and buy anything in your store with this, except alcohol? What kind of gift card is that?”

Me: “It’s a restricted gift card, sir. We have standard gift cards that are open, and then restricted gift cards.”

Customer: “What the f***? That’s stupid. Can I come in and have you approve me to buy alcohol with it, anyway?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but the register will automatically deduct the alcohol from the total when you use the card, leaving you with a cash balance owed.”

Customer: “Wait, you said you have real gift cards, right? Can I buy one of them with this card?”

Me: “No, sir, that’s illegal and also against store policy, anyway.”

Customer: “That’s f****** r*****ed. This card is f****** useless. What the hell am I supposed to do with this piece of s*** if I can’t buy alcohol with it?!”

Me: “Well, you could buy food with it.”

Customer: *silence*

Me: “Sir?”

Customer: “F*** you!” *hangs up*

(One of our self-scan registers is down, so I call tech support. Our company’s tech support is primarily located in the US, but sometimes I get agents from other countries. This time I get a couple of Russians. The first agent realizes about halfway through that we need to escalate the issue. He conferences in the second agent before he disconnects his end of the call, rather than just transferring me.)

Tech Support #1: “I leave you now with Marko, level two support. He is good at his work. I am leaving you in good hands, strong hands; he fix issue.”

Me: *trying to not laugh at “strong hands”* “Excellent. Thank you for your help!

Tech Support #1: “Thank you. Have a good day. Marko, [something in Russian].”

Tech Support #2: *dryly* “Hello, this is Marko. I am the one having good, strong hands.”

Me: *laughing* “Good morning, Marko. How are you?”

Tech Support #2: *still dryly* “I am good, but my hands are more good.”

Related:
In Soviet Russia, Accent Speaks You

(I’m finishing up a transaction with a customer buying some chocolates.)

Customer: “Oh, I can’t wait to try these!”

(She quickly unwraps a gourmet chocolate and pops it in her mouth. She works it around for a few seconds, and then suddenly spits out the filling into her hand. She holds up the blob of mushy chocolate filling in front of my face.)

Customer: “Where can I put this?”

Me: “I’m sorry, what?”

Customer: “Where can I put this?”

Me: “Um… For what purpose?”

Customer: *getting annoyed* “Where can I put this to save it for later? Don’t you have something I can put this in?”

Me: “Oh, um, okay.”

(I pull out a small plastic bag we usually save for making assortments, and hand it to her. She wipes the blob of chocolate filling off of her fingers into the bag, thanks me, and leaves.)

Me: *turning to my coworker in disbelief* “She asked, ‘Where can I put this?'”

Coworker: “How about back in your mouth, weirdo?!”