I used to work as a supervisor in the customer service department of a supermarket in a well-off suburb in Melbourne. The store was on the corner of two streets, so our loading and delivery bay was on the side of the store, on the less busy street, rather than at the back of the store as is common.

We had many obnoxious, rich regular customers. The least favourite customer of the entire department was this guy.

Me: “Hi, [Customer], how can I help you today?”

Customer: “Close your d*** delivery door. It’s absolutely disgusting. Customers shouldn’t have to see that.”

Me: “Oh, sorry about that. We must be getting a delivery; I’m sure they will leave soon.”

Customer: “That’s unacceptable. I already said customers shouldn’t have to see that. That’s ridiculous. Customers should never see that. You shouldn’t ever open that door!”

Me: “The delivery bay door?”

Customer: “Obviously, the delivery bay door. I’ve already told you that.”

Me: “So, let me confirm. You would like for me to make them stop opening the delivery bay doors.”

Customer: “Finally!”

Me: “Okay, great, and how exactly do you propose that we get any products into the store to be able to sell them to you?”

Customer: “F*** off, smart-a**!” *Storms out of the store*

Related:
It’s All In The Delivery, Part 2
It’s All In The Delivery

I work in a larger newsagency in a shopping centre in Australia. It is a Saturday, and there is a very large lottery jackpot being drawn tonight, upwards of $120 million AUD. We have all three registers at our lottery counter open, which is a very rare occurrence, and have scheduled extra staff to deal with the huge number of people buying tickets today. The line for the lottery counter wraps the entire way around the store and down a few aisles.

Me: “Hi, who’s next, please?”

Customer: “Hi. Can I please have five $20 quick-picks for tonight’s draw?”

Me: “Sure, no worries.”

I print them for him.

Me: “That comes to $100. Was that cash or card today?”

Customer: “Cash, please.”

He pulls a giant bag of silver coins out of his bag and starts pulling out a handful of coins to start counting them.

Me: “Absolutely not.”

Customer: “What, why?! It’s legal tender.”

Me: “Are you serious? I’m not accepting that.”

Customer: “But why?! You have to take it!”

Me: “I do not. Aside from the fact that I legally only have to accept up to $5 worth of coins, have you looked around? All of these people are waiting, and no one has time to wait for you to count out your coins and for me to then double-count them to confirm you have paid the correct amount.”

Customer: “But you could just—”

Me: “No. Either find some notes, pay by card, or get out of the store.”

He complains, but he pulls out a card and pays while staring daggers at me.

Me: “Thank you, and have a nice day!”

Next Customer: “Was that guy for real? What an a**hole!”

This story reminded me of a similar experience.

This occurred in the 1980s. I was a young woman and loved having fun with my hair. At the time, it was black and red on top, all gelled up in a new-wave flourish, with at least two rat tails. It was glorious. I still get a kick when I look at old photos.

A stranger grabbed my arm in the street.

Stranger: “Don’t wear your hair like that!”

I turned around in astonishment, and my astonishment only grew when the woman shouting at me turned out to be in her fifties with hair that was an ugly bright orange colour that can only happen when you apply the wrong sort of henna to grey or white hair.

She looked far more ridiculous than I did. I was doing it for fun and art, and she presumably was doing it to convince people she still had the flaming red hair of her youth.

I don’t think I said anything; I just turned and walked away, shaking my head.

Related:
She Seems A Hair Insensitive

I’m a woman in my thirties with invisible disabilities that make it hard to climb stairs at the best of times. As it’s peak hour and pouring rain, I decide to take the lift. I’m waiting with an elderly couple when a woman in her fifties walks up to us. I’m listening to music through headphones and don’t immediately realise she’s talking to me, but then I notice her trying to get my attention. I remove my headphones.

Me: “Excuse me?”

Woman: “The lift is for disabled people.”

Me: “Firstly, no, it’s for everyone to use. Secondly, not that it’s any of your business, but I am disabled. Ever hear of invisible disabilities?”

Woman: “Well… I’m disabled, too!”

Me: “Good for you! I honestly didn’t know being an old b**** was a disability. I guess you learn something new every day.”

I watch her do her best impression of a tomato and gape like a fish for a minute before storming away.

I turn to the couple who has witnessed the whole exchange. They are both laughing.

Me: “I’m so sorry for my language, but she just got to me.”

Man: “No worries, love; if you hadn’t said something, I would have.”

The woman didn’t even look disabled herself.

Related:
Invisible Disability, Visible Laziness

I get called to the registers to approve a return on an item from my department and am directed to the customer when I arrive. She wants to return a computer game she purchased as she already had it and forgot. It’s part of a large series, so this is understandable. She hasn’t opened this copy and has her receipt, so returning it is no problem. We sell these games for $15 each, or you can buy two for $20, which is what I see on her receipt that she did.

Me: “We can definitely return that for you. Did you want to exchange it for another game in the series or get money back?”

Customer: “I don’t have time to look through what’s there, so I’ll just get my money back.”

Me: “No worries. It would be better value to exchange because a refund will only get you $5 back, but we can do that if you prefer.”

Customer: “$5? What do you mean?”

Me: “Well, these games are one for $15 or two for $20. You originally bought two, but now you want to return one, so we have to return the original deal you got for the two and sell back out just the one you’re keeping, which will cost $15, leaving a $5 refund.”

Customer: “That doesn’t make sense! I’m returning a $15 game, so I should get $15 back!”

Me: “But then you’d have purchased one game for $5. With grouped deals like this, we have to return the entire deal and sell back out what you’re keeping, which is why an exchange is always better value.”

Customer: “I don’t want an exchange. If you won’t give me back $15, I should at least get $10 back. I paid $20 for two and I’m returning one now; half of $20 is $10.”

We go around in circles for several minutes. I try to explain several different ways that, as her items are grouped together on her original receipt to give her the deal, they have to be returned that way, and then we sell out the one she’s keeping, which is why she only gets $5 refunded. She alternated between arguing that she should get back either $10 or $15. Eventually, she finds something different to say.

Customer: “Fine! You can shove your store up your a**!”

As she said this, she slid the game across the returns desk with the receipt, and then she stormed out without the game, receipt, or refund of any amount.