The Customer Is Always Right: A Paradox

, , , , , | | Right | July 19, 2019

(I’m in the checkout line. A guy in front of me is whining and reprimanding the cashier about how he never gets good customer service here. He has already paid, so he’s just wasting my time at this point. The cashier, a youngish female, is being sweet and patient with him, but she’s obviously agitated by him, and I’m getting annoyed.)

Customer: “I remember when the customer was always right.”

Me: “I’m a customer. You, sir, are an annoying douche. I’m a customer, so I’m always right.”

Customer: *looks at me* “I’m annoying?”

(I assume he’s asking me a question, although he could simply be confirming his agreement with my assessment.)

Me: *smile, shrug* “You betcha.”

Customer: “I bet you voted for Hillary Clinton!” *leaves*

Customers, Help Yourselves

, , , , | | Working | July 17, 2019

(My mom has been on hold with our cable company, trying to figure out why they have started charging her over 30% more. Apparently, we’ve been paying for premium channels, which we never asked for or use. She has been put on hold again when this happens.)

Mom: *on hold* “Why are they charging me for stuff I don’t want?!”

Woman: *on the other line, picks up* “Hello?”

Mom: “Hello.”

Woman: “I’m trying to find out why my [Channel] isn’t working?”

Mom: “Um, I’m actually a customer, too.”

Woman: “What? How did that happen?”

Mom: “I don’t know. I’m trying to get my bill reduced and they put me on hold again.”

Woman: *laughs*

(My mom ended up having some laughs with another random customer about how weird and screwed up cable companies are. And we’re still trying to get our bill reduced.)

Unfiltered Story #158303

, , | | Unfiltered | July 16, 2019

*I’m working at a popular paint store, helping out a large group of regular commercial customers who work in a family business. I grab two boxes of caulk and carry them to their trucks*

Customer 1: Come on man, can’t you carry more than two boxes?
Customer 2: Yeah, [ female manager of my store] can take five caulks at once!

*I head back inside.*

Me: Man, those guys with [ paint company] are assholes.
Manager: Why what did they say?
Me: I don’t think you want to hear it.
Manager: Tell me.

*I tell my manager, who immediately turns red. She rushes out the door and I hear her yelling, but can’t make out what she’s saying. She comes back in minutes later, still fuming. Thirty seconds later two of the older customers from the group come in, dragging the two who made the jokes.*

Customer 3: Our sons have something to say to you.

*The sons apologize, and my manager warns them not to let it happen again. The customers all leave.*

Me: Damn, what did you say to them?
Manager: I told them that they can act like professionals and treat me with respect or find a new place to shop. You can’t let customers treat you like that.

The First Person Who Doesn’t Know The Golden Arches

, , , , , | | Right | July 15, 2019

(While I’m working in the dairy department, an elderly customer comes over to ask me a question.)

Customer: “Excuse me. I have a coupon for this; can you tell me where it’s located?”

Me: “Okay, let me have a look at it.”

(The customer shows a coupon for a McDonald’s Frappe.)

Me: “Um, ma’am, that’s a coupon for a McDonald’s Frappe.”

Customer: “Oh, but if you sold it, where would it be in the store?”

Me: “We don’t sell those here. You might want to go to McDonald’s across the street.”

Customer: “Oh, okay…”

(The customer left the store, still looking confused.)

Trying To Get A Foot In On That Sale

, , , , , | | Working | July 11, 2019

(My friend and I are returning from a food court in a shopping mall when we get caught by one of those very aggressive lotion and cosmetic kiosk salesmen. I am one of those people who can’t seem to ignore them if I hear they’re speaking to me.)

Creepy Salesman: “Try this lotion on your hands, ladies? It will make your skin irresistibly soft!”

Me: “No, thank you; I don’t like anyone touching my hands.”

(We both continue walking away from him.)

Creepy Salesman: *calling at us loudly over the crowd* “Well, how about your feet?!”

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