Me: “Thanks for calling [Company]. This is [My Name]; how can I help you?”

Caller: “I’m an extremely elderly woman, and I’m having trouble placing an order on your new website.”

Me: “I’d be happy to place that order for you over the phone. Could I please get your email address to bring up your account?”

(All the customers for this particular company need to register accounts, which are linked to an email.)

Caller: “I don’t have one. I’m too old; I don’t do computers. I have my kids do that stuff for me.”

Me: “I do need to bring up your account. Is it listed under one of your kids’ emails, perhaps?”

Caller: “Well, I actually do have an email address, but I hate giving it out.”

Me: *thinking she’s afraid of scams* “I can assure you, the only thing I’ll be using it for is to locate your account. It’ll be okay to tell us, and after the order, I’ll clear my screen.”

Caller: “Well, it’s [Caller]lovesto[vulgar word for intercourse]@[email].”

Me: *spends the rest of the call struggling not to lose it laughing*

(A nurse comes in to see one of our residents and she is signing in at the kiosk. She has a snotty air right from the get-go, which is fine, whatever. Then the fun starts.)

Nurse: “It won’t let me in. I’ll try it again…”

(The machine hasn’t even printed out a denied tag so I’m curious what she’s on about.)

Me: “Can I see?” *reaches out to turn the kiosk towards me*

Nurse: “No! I’m trying it again.” *taps angrily at the screen* “Ugh! I don’t know what my PIN is. I’m just going to go in.”

Me: “No, I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to. If you’ve forgotten your PIN, it can text it to you…”

Nurse: “I can’t get texts. HIPAA–” *a health insurance privacy law* “–won’t allow us to get texts.”

Me: “Okay, then is there a supervisor you could call to see if they have your PIN stored?”

Nurse: “She’s already working on it. They said I could just go in.”

Me: “Well, she’s probably working on getting your credentials to the system that runs our kiosk. Unfortunately, I can’t just let you go in, though, for security reasons.”

Nurse: “Well! Fine, then. I guess I just won’t see [Resident]!” *mutters angrily as she stomps off out the door*

(I could have helped her more, but I won’t help someone when they’re being such a b****. I don’t understand what she was on about HIPAA not letting her text. And she obviously doesn’t care about HIPAA anyway, yelling the resident’s name in a busy lobby with who knows who listening. Idiot.)

(I work in the electronics department of a store known for it’s ‘higher standards and lower prices.’ I am currently taking cardboard that needs to be compacted down to the receiving end of the store near the grocery department. As I am walking into the receiving area an agitated old woman in need of help pulls me over and asks this little gem of a question:

“You stupid M**********R, are you the tissue man, because I need to get to the tissue land?”

(Needless to say, this conversation didn’t go very far between her belittling the employees and generally acting very high.)

(This takes place in the mid-2000s. The movie rental place near me does not charge late fees, but keeping the movie for over a month will result in you buying it and having your account billed accordingly. As I’m cleaning out my dorm to move home for the summer, I find a movie from them I forgot to return. It’s a movie I like and it is my fault for forgetting, so I’m fine with being charged the full price, but I still go to the store to settle my account so I don’t have an outstanding balance while I’m gone for the summer.)

Me: “I’m not renting anything today; I just want to pay my account balance off.”

Cashier: “All right. It looks like you kept [Movie] too long and have been charged for buying it.”

Me: “Yeah, that’s right.”

Cashier: “Our policy clearly states that even though we have no late fees, you’ll be charged the full price of the movie after keeping it for thirty days.”

Me: “I know; I’m here to pay that.”

Cashier: “We also call you when you’re past due to remind you before that happens.”

Me: “Yeah, I got the call and then forgot. I’m fine paying it. I don’t mind.”

Cashier: “There’s a drop-box for after hours. So even if you’re busy with class and work all day you can still drop it off. It only takes a moment, and we’re right by campus.”

Me: “I’m aware. I get that it was my fault, and I’m fine with it and here to pay off the balance.”

Cashier: “Look, I’m just trying to help you. Nobody wants to be charged full price for movies they only wanted to rent.” *finally finishes the transaction and gives me my card back*

Me: “I guess. Thanks.”

(I’m sure she’s used to people arguing with her about late fees, but sometimes people DO actually accept their mistakes gracefully.)

(This happens shortly before I put in my two-week notice. I’m a closing manager, and it’s felt like the store manager has had it out for me for a long time. Friday nights, our busiest night, I’m stuck with only one employee from 8:00 pm until we close at 2:00 am. I’ve complained about this many times after she complained about my speed of service. Eventually, she gave me someone else until 11:00, except he’s never been trained and slows things even more. Most of the orders this late are small items off the value menu, and I’ve been running $200 hours since 9:00 pm. I agree that times were ridiculous, often reaching twenty minutes. My cashier calls for me over our headsets, telling me the customer at the windows is upset, so I go over to help.)

Me: *genuinely hoping to help the customer* “I was told that you have a problem?”

Customer #1: “Yes, I’ve been waiting for half an hour for my order!”

(We have a monitor next to the window that shows how long customers have been there.)

Me: “I apologize for the wait—”

Customer #1: “You bet you are! I’m calling corporate!”

(At this point, I don’t care about professionalism. I’m quitting soon and it’s been a rough night.)

Me: “My timer says it’s only been seven minutes since you pulled up. Your order is being made fresh right now.”

Customer #1: “It had better be fresh!”

(She only ordered a ten-piece nugget. It takes about three minutes to cook, and of course, this makes her angrier.)

Me: “Sorry again about the wait. It won’t be much longer.”

Customer #1: “It had better be fresh.”

Me: “I just told you it will be; that’s why you’re still waiting.”

(When the nuggets are almost done cooking, I wash my hands, put on gloves, and bag the nuggets myself. I give her a little extra sauce to try to make her content.)

Customer #1: “These aren’t hot; I waited for them to be cooked fresh!”

Me: “They’re hot. I pulled them out of the fryer myself. They literally cannot be any fresher; you’ll burn your mouth if you eat them right now.”

Customer #1: “No, they’re cold. You made me wait this long for cold nuggets.”

(I’m getting really frustrated at this point, but I finish the transaction. She knocks on the window to get my attention again.)

Customer #1: “I want these for free. Give me back my money.”

Me: “What?”

Customer #1: “I said I want these for free! And give me a milkshake for my trouble!”

Me: “No. I’m not even allowed to give out shakes for free. And you’re keeping either your nuggets or your money.”

Customer #1: “You made me wait for so long for cold nuggets!”

(At this point, she’s been in my drive-thru for close to twenty minutes. I’m more than annoyed with her and don’t want to let her win. If she was civil about it, I would have thrown in a value fry or charged her for a ten-piece.)

Me: “Look, I’m not giving you anything for your wait. You could have driven off at any time; it’s not our fault you decided to wait here for so long. We’re right next to another fast food place that is actually staffed and could have gotten your nuggets much sooner.”

(I close the window and lock it before she can say anything else. She honks and yells at us for a few minutes after that, until she finally drives off. To make things worse, the next customer wasn’t much better.)

Customer #2: “What is taking so long? I’ve been waiting for a long time!”

Me: “I’m really sorry about the wait. We’ve been really backed up and the customer ahead of you wasn’t happy about waiting for her order to be fresh. Your order is fresh, too. It just finished cooking.”

(Usually, people are happy to hear their food is fresh and ready for them when they pull up. Not this guy.)

Customer #2: “I want my entire order for free!”

(It’s an order close to $20.)

Me: “You know what? You won’t be paying anything tonight. You have a good night.”

(I locked my window again. Everyone behind him had pulled off, much to my relief. It was after 11:00 pm by then, so it was just me and my cashier. It was really petty of me, but I took over order taking and told customers we were unable to take any orders because equipment was malfunctioning, so we could catch up on closing procedures so we could hopefully get out somewhat close to on time.)