I’m ordering at a popular coffee chain.

Me: “One [Seasonal Specialty Drink made with ice] with no coffee.”

The barista marks it down on the cup and goes to make it. When I receive the drink, it looks very suspiciously like coffee is in it. Note: This drink does have a layer of chocolate syrup in it.

Me: “Does this have coffee in it?”

Barista: “No, that’s just the chocolate syrup.”

I’m not convinced, so I take a sip before I leave. It most certainly has coffee in it.

Me: “I really think this has coffee in it.”

Barista: “Oh, I just made it with decaf.”

He remade my drink after that, and I got a coupon for a free drink.

We are a tax office. We offer a debit card that your taxes can be loaded to. A client comes in requesting one of those cards. Sure, easy; I just need an ID. I get the card issued to the client.

Client: “You know, I love the idea of these cards. I can just… spend money off of them, and then it’s paid off when my taxes come in.”

Me: “Uh… I think you misunderstood. That’s a prepaid debit card — basically a free bank account with [Bank]. You can have your payroll loaded to it, and you can have your refund loaded to it, but right now, it’s empty and there’s no money on it.”

Client: “But… I can spend the money, right? Put it negative and then get it topped off by my refund?”

Me: “No. Those are prepaid cards. They do not go negative. It’s not a credit card.”

Client: “…Then why would I bother getting one in the first place?”

Me: “…I don’t know. You tell me why you bothered getting it in the first place.”

She threw the card in my face and stormed out. I shredded the card after.

Related:
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 114
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 113
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 112
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 111
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 110

I’m answering phones for a physical therapy office. A client calls to reschedule an appointment.

Client: “I’d like to reschedule my appointment with [Therapist] from February 23 to March 23.”

Me: “Okay. It looks like [Therapist] is here March 23rd.”

Client: “What day of the week is it?”

Me: “Thursday.”

Client: “Can we do it on March 23rd, Wednesday?”

Me: “[Chiropractor] isn’t here on Wednesdays.”

Client: “Which days of the week is she there?”

 Me: “Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday.”

Client: “So, can I see her on March 23rd, Monday?”

Me: “Monday is the 20th.”

Client: “No. I want to see her on March 23rd… Can I see her on Wednesday?”

Me: “Wednesday is the 22nd, and she’s not here.”

Client: “What day is March 23rd?”

Me: “Thursday.”

Client: “No, I’m not available on Thursday… Can I see her on March 23rd, Friday?”

Me: “Friday is the 24th… and she’s not here on Friday. You mentioned Monday earlier. Is Monday okay?”

Client: “Yes, Monday works. What day is Monday?”

Me: “March 20th, or March 27th.”

Client: “Can I have Monday, March 23rd?”

Me: “No.”

Client: “Fine. Put me down for Monday, March 20th, I guess.”

Me: “What time?”

Client: “Same time as the original appointment, if you have it.”

Me: “Is 11:00 am okay?”

Client: “Yes, that works. So March 23rd, Monday, right?”

Me: “…No, March 20th, Monday.”

Client: “March 20th… March 20th… No, I wanted March 23rd.”

Me: “I’m sorry, our only opening is March 20th, Monday. Have a nice day.”

Client: “Wait, wait… Will I get a reminder?”

Me: “Yes. You should get an automated text message reminder five days, three days, and one day before your appointment.”

Client: “So… the 18th, the 20th, and the 22nd?”

Me: “…They’ll come when they come. It’ll help remind you.”

Client: “Okay. Thank you!”

Me: “Is there anything else?”

Client: “Tell [Therapist] I said hi!”

Me: “I will.”

Client: “Have a nice day.”

Me: “You, too.”

And then she finally hung up on me.

I’m a paid tax preparer for a retail tax chain.

One day, I work for a client who is very, very drunk. He falls asleep at my desk during the tax interview. He stinks of alcohol — that sour, bitter scent of someone who’s been drinking a lot for a long time — and snores loudly like he might choke to death at any second from alcohol-induced apnea.

He’s got three years of W2s, but he filed with us last time he filed, and he has no children that he claims. It’s a very simple return for a first-year like me.

I enter his information and wake him up long enough to sign and pay — he wants his fees to come out of his refund — and then send him home.

He calls back the next day, very angry.

Client: “Why didn’t you do my taxes?!”

Me: “We… did your taxes.”

Client: “I don’t remember you doing my taxes!”

Me: “You were asleep.”

Client: “Well, why the h*** did you do my taxes while I was sleeping?!”

I don’t really have a good answer for that. I mostly did it because I felt like if I rejected him, it would become a bigger problem. He was large and had an angry and suspicious demeanor for the handful of minutes he was awake. So, I redirect it.

Me: “Do you want to know how much you’re getting back?”

Client: *Flatly* “How much?”

I tell him the number for the three years put together, federal plus state.

Client: *Cheerfully* “Well, d***, I need to get drunk before doing my taxes more often!”

He then hung up abruptly.

I, meanwhile, made a note in his file to never assign him to me again.

I work in a tax office and my client today is a nurse.

I’ve got a bit of a sense of humor, and when I was younger I worked in a hospital, so just for fun I grab a piece of paper and scribble some meaningless squiggles on it.

Me: “Read this prescription for me?”

Nurse: *Without skipping a beat* “Amoxicillin, 250mg, three times per day, seven-day supply.”

We both laughed so hard it upset the client three cubicles over.