I work at a music instrument store that’s located right next to a mattress store.

A customer walked in, looked around at our massive wall of guitars, and asked me:

Customer: “So… are the mattresses in the back?”

Instead of laughing, I felt compelled to walk him out of the store and guide him a few feet down the street to the mattress store. As he walked in, he thanked me and then said:

Customer: “Two entrances? Neat.”

I’ve been working in retail for over a decade now, and recently had one of my all-time strangest interactions with a customer. 

I work in a record store, and we’ve just had Record Store Day (if you’re not familiar, it’s a day where labels put out many special releases in limited numbers) on Saturday. Incredibly, incredibly busy, borderline unmanageably so, but it makes the company a s***-load of money so I guess we’ll be doing it forever. The tales I have of how grown adults behave towards staff on this day could be its own thread, but my tale is from a few days later.

The phone rings, and it sounds like an older (though not elderly) gentleman.

Caller: “I visited your store on Saturday afternoon.”

An inauspicious start.

Caller: “I picked up a few Record Store Day titles. When I got to the counter, I asked about another title, but the girl told me that none of your stores ever had it.”

That’s not unusual; some titles are not released for every territory but can potentially be imported later.

Caller: “Later, when I got home, I received a text from your shop telling me that I could order it.”

He means an email from the website.

Caller: “Now, that’s not very good, is it?”

It had been a long few days, and I could sense that he was attempting to make a complaint about something that had happened, but I wasn’t sure what, exactly.

Me: “Could you tell me again what the issue is?”

He recounts the same story, adding that:

Caller: “I’m not happy I made a wasted journey to your store.”

Now, I know the textbook customer service thing is to give a professional, insincere little apology, but I was just too perplexed. I repeated his story as I understood it back to him. I’m thinking he’s perhaps confused about the email notification; maybe he thinks it means that the other item was in stock, after all. 

I check the system during his soliloquy and confirm that no store ever received the release he wants. I reiterate this to him, as gently as I can, and suggest that:

Me: “If the email you received is inviting you to order the desired release, you should do that.”

Caller: “But what are you going to do about my wasted journey?”

Again, feeling like I’m in some sort of hostage negotiation, I very gently remind him that he did, in fact, buy three other things he seemingly wanted, and that this other release was never here, but he’s welcome to order it on the website if the email he’s received invites him to.

Caller: “Well, I don’t think it’s very good service.”

I know I’m getting myself into dangerous territory as I respond:

Me: “I think maybe it’s about a difference in temperament, because if I was a customer somewhere and I wanted something, but was told it wasn’t in stock, and then received an email saying I could order it, I’d be quite happy.”

Miraculously, I think I just about get through to him somewhat. He starts saying things like:

Caller: “I’m not trying to have a go; I love your store and just wanted to vent my frustration.”

The phone call eventually ends after twenty minutes (he spoke very slowly), and I seem to have left him happy. 

Now, I KNOW he doesn’t know how insanely busy it’s been, how grown men have screamed in the faces of young women wearing lanyards because we sold out of a limited live Pink Floyd album, how the shop looks like a grenade exploded over the Pop section, how there’s discarded drink and food wrappers in record racks. 

I know that, to an extent, it’s my job to listen to venting customers, but it really did sap all my energy and patience and, I daresay, compassion for my fellow man (just for the rest of that day; I’m back now). I’m still not sure I understood his grievance, though. I may never know, and I’m okay with that.

I used to work in a music store. A customer hands over a classic rock compilation CD. I state the price.

Customer: “And the free guitar?”

Me: “What free guitar?”

The customer points to a sticker on the CD: “Free air guitar!”

Me: “You know what an air guitar is, right?”

Customer: “No, but it’s free, so I want one.”

I start ‘air-guitaring’ in front of him.

Me: “This is an air guitar.”

Another customer nearby sees me, walks over, and starts air-guitaring with me.

Other Customer: “Cool air guitar bro!”

Me: “Yours too!”

Other Customer: “Gibson?”

Me: “Fender.”

Other Customer: “Right on!”

We continue air-guitaring when the original customer finally gets it, tuts loudly, states they only wanted it for the free guitar, and storms out, leaving the CD compilation behind.

I work in a vintage music store in a touristy part of Los Angeles. We have a huge vinyl collection (both old and new) and attract a lot of customer types, from old-school collectors to… newer fans of the medium:

A young guy comes over holding a vinyl album:

Customer: “Is this region specific?”

Me: “Region specific? You mean, like region locked?”

Customer: “Yeah.”

Me: “It’s vinyl.”

Customer: “Yeah. So, can I play these when I get back to the UK?”

Me: “It’s vinyl. They’re literal discs of PVC.”

Customer: “Yeah. So, can I play these when—”

Me: “—when you get back to the UK, yes. Yes, you can.”

Customer: “Wicked! Thanks!”

CONTENT WARNING: Assault, violence, and mention of kidnapping

I work at Canada’s largest music instrument retailer, in the professional audio/lighting department. A large part of my job is working with sound systems and lighting rentals.

Let me tell you about the worst night of my life.

But first, some context; one of the things our store does is inventory purchases, where we buy music/production gear from people and sell it on our show floor. We don’t do consignment, or commission, and we don’t do “pawning”. We buy the item and own it outright; the customer is just another supplier to us.

We price our customer inventory purchases to sell within thirty days, so we are pretty aggressive in our pricing, but we save the customer the hassle of haggling with morons online. We also try to be fair and will show the customer the pricing and what other units are selling for, and why we will price it at this point. Also, if the customer has a legitimate rare or expensive instrument (usually a guitar), we send them to another store that specializes in those instruments, and that will give them a better deal.

However, given that this is a very easy way to get cash, we check and record ID on all transactions, as well as run all the serial numbers to check if something is stolen. 

Now with the context of this story out of the way, let’s get into it. 

It’s around 6 PM, so the managers have gone home for the day, and it’s just me in pro audio, a guitar guy, and the closer from the band department. Both of my coworkers are both older and more senior than me, but when it comes to trade-ins, we try to lean on the person in the department when it comes to assessment and pricing. I’m just finishing wrapping some cables when I get a page to come to the front for a trade-in, and I walk on up to the front desk, where I see two well-used active speakers and a customer who is wearing a big jacket who looks a little worse for wear.

Me: Hey, I’m [My Name] in pro audio. My coworkers say you have some stuff to trade in. What sort of gear do you have?”

Customer: “Just these two speakers, no rush, but I need the money tonight.”

Red flag.

Me: “Okay, I just have to do some paperwork; did you buy these guys from us?”

Customer: “Yup, around two years ago.”

Me: “Alright, can I see a piece of ID, please?”

He hands it to me, and I look up the serial numbers of the speakers in the system and confirm that they were sold by us to him around a couple of years ago. At this point, I look at the ID and then to him to confirm that it is, in fact, him, and notice that he has two fresh black eyes and a broken nose, with a small amount of blood leaking from it. He also has some very fresh bruises on his neck and what I can see of his collarbone. At this point, we have moved so that we are standing on either side of a counter, and he is leaning heavily against it, holding his ribs.

Me: “Are you okay, sir? Did you fall? You look a little worse for wear?”

Customer: “Ah, it hurts, it’s okay, I just need the money.”

Me: *Seeing my coworkers have left to help other customers, leaving me alone with this situation.* “Would you like me to call you an ambulance, or any other emergency services?”

Customer: *Not unkindly.* “No, no, I’m okay.” *As blood runs down his face from a head wound under his hat.* “I just need to pay some debts tonight, that’s all.” *He shifts, and I hear a crack.* “Ah, I think they broke a rib.”

Me: “Okay, sir, would you like to sit down for a bit while I test these out?”

Customer: “Sounds good, ahh, ouch, Thanks so much, man, you’re really doing me a favor.”

Then he leans in and says:

Customer: “Thanks again, man, I really need the money; they have my kids.”

He then walks off to the couch, and I try to process what is happening and what I need to do.

As I wheel the speakers to the back of the store, thankfully out of the sightline of my customer, I grab my coworker and fill them in as I test out the speakers. The speakers are working just fine and are in nice enough condition that I can agree to take them in. I admit I was a little nervous about this whole situation.

My coworker and I agree that since we have all his driver’s licence info, we will give him the money, as he has done nothing illegal, and then once he leaves, call the cops.

Me: *To the customer.* “Hey, man, we are able to take them in at [price]; does that work for you?”

It does, and the customer limps off on their way (yes, limps, as we are just now seeing that in addition to everything else, his legs look super sore), and we call the cops.

I’m super nervous that he will show back up at the same time the cops are here and that there will be an altercation, but fortunately, that does not happen.

The cops arrive and take one look at the customer’s information and go:

RCMP Officer: “Oh, [Customer Name]. He’s out of prison already?”

Great.

Me: “Well, I am more worried about his kids. He was obviously very beaten up, and I hope the kids are okay.”

The two officers look at each other and then back to me with a half-smile:

RCMP Officer: “I hope you didn’t do him any special favors because of that.”

Me: “No, I priced it like I would any other transaction, so no worries there.”

RCMP Officer: “Yeah, [Customer] hasn’t had contact with his kids since they were born. We know the guy quite well.”

Me: “Ah, well, I hope everything ends up okay for him.”

The police leave to handle it, and we close the store, still no sign of the customer. The next morning, I am just starting to relax and think that everything is okay, and am on my own at the rental desk when three big men walk in (looking like the cast of The Sopranos) and say:

Big Dude: “Were you the one working last night?”

Before I can say or do anything beyond get ready to fight for my life, the biggest leans in and says:

Big Dude: “Chill man, we just wanted to make sure y’all know we don’t hurt kids, never have, never will. Just wanted to clear our names around here.”

His buddies walk over and grab a 4k$ DJ board and case, pays for it in cash. Trying not to seem intimidated, I ring it through on the store account as serialized items need an account tied to them, but I am not asking them for ID, as I have two brain cells.

The big dude then stuffs around 500$ into my polo pocket, tells me it’s for the trouble, and starts to leave.

Big Dude: “Oh, and [Customer] will not be bugging you anymore; he knows that this place is off limits,

They left, and I stopped working closing shifts. It’s been two years, and I have never seen anyone from this event ever again. Retail, eh?