(I am in the waiting room of a hospital waiting for a scan to check out my back injury. For the purposes of this story, let’s just say that my name is John Smith. The nurse calls me in for my scan.)

Nurse: “All right, just jump up onto the table.”

Me: “Umm… sorry, I can’t do that.”

Nurse: “We can’t do the scan if you don’t get on the table.”

Me: “But… I can barely move. How do you expect me to jump onto a table?”

Nurse: “Sure, you can.”

Me: “I don’t think you understand. I am physically unable to get up onto the table due to a back injury.”

Nurse: “You don’t have a back injury.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’m pretty sure I would know why I’m at the hospital.”

Nurse: “Your name is John Smith, right?”

Me: “Yes.”

Nurse: “And your date of birth is [date]?”

Me: “Yes, it is.”

(A patient in the waiting room speaks up.)

Patient: “Sorry to interrupt, but I think you might have us confused.”

Nurse: “Your name is John Smith?”

Patient: “Yep.”

Nurse: “And I suppose your date of birth is also [date].”

Patient: “Yes.”

Nurse: “And you’re here for a scan?”

Patient: “Yes, I am.”

Nurse: “Well, this is an interesting coincidence.”

(She looks down at her computer.)

Nurse: “Ah, I see the problem. There are two different people named John Smith with the same birthday, who just happened to both have appointments for a scan within the same hour. I was looking for John M. Smith.”

Patient: “That’s me!”

(The nurse apologized and I got my scan not long after. It was a confusing few minutes, but at least I got a good story out of it!)

(I’m the manager at a busy gas station with a convenience store. There has been a major power outage in our little town; power has been out for seven hours at this point and nothing is open. Still, people pull in hoping to gas up or buy some snacks, and I spend a good part of my day telling people we are closed as I can’t leave the building. A lady pulls in, gets out of her car, and starts walking to the door, so I open it to talk to her.)

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, power’s out and we’re closed.”

Customer: “I know, but can’t you just sell me one little bag of ice?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not today, anyway.”

Customer: “You can’t even sell me one single bag of ice?”

Me: “I’m afraid not. Sorry.”

Customer: *in an angry, sing-song tone* “Well, how am I supposed to keep my food cold if you won’t sell me any ice?!”

Me: “Ma’am, we can’t even keep our own food cold. I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Customer: “What the h*** am I supposed to do, then?!”

Me: “Well, you could cross the bridge in to [Town three minutes away in another province]. I know for a fact that they have power, and they sell ice, as well.”

Customer: “I don’t go to [Town] because I don’t like bridges! So there!”

Me: “Oh, okay, then. I’m sorry. Have a good night.”

(As she walked off, I looked over at our electric ice freezer that had been sitting out in the hot sun for seven hours and wondered how she thought we were keeping our ice frozen. They were basically bags of slush at that point.)

(I’ve just returned from a business trip and I stop at my local dollar store for some snacks. I’m in a terrible mood from being on the road all day but I have been here many times with nothing but friendly service and I am determined not to take it out on the staff. As I’m walking in, there is a woman at the cash complaining to the cashier, but I don’t pay attention. I hear him call for a manager and I see the manager on duty quickly come from the back. I grab some snacks and get to the counter only to have to wait behind this angry customer who is getting a refund, something not normally offered at this store and a process that takes a while. I suddenly tune in to what’s happening and realize this woman is getting a 30-cent refund on her 5-cent plastic bags. Most stores in our province have been charging for bags for a while as per governments regulations. The store gets none of the profits from these bags and has no say over the price.)

Customer: “Look, it’s not that I can’t afford it. It’s the principle of it. You people are always trying to trick us into spending more money and I won’t have it. You don’t even have a sign or anything!”

(She is actually standing next to a five-foot sign about the bags. As she is talking she is aggressively dumping her things out of the plastic bags onto the counter. The clerk looks like he wants to cry and the manager is trying hard to keep it together.)

Me: “Seriously?” *to the manager* “You guys don’t actually keep any of the money from those bags, right? I mean, it’s a government policy. Isn’t it? Most stores in this town alone have been charging for bags for at least a year, if not more.”

Manager: “Yeah, it has to do with the new eco-tax.”

Me: “Right, so it has nothing to do with you guys.”

Manager: *sigh* “No, it doesn’t.”

(The customer can clearly hear me, and I see her face get red before she turns away from me. She finally gets her 30 cents, drops it right back on the counter, and points at the reusable cloth bags the store is selling for a quarter each.)

Customer: “Give me one of those, now.”

Me: *to the cashier after she has paid him and is repacking her now one big bag* “You guys do get the profits off those cloth bags, though, right?”

Cashier: “Yup.” *flashes me a smile*

Customer: “Look, I would rather just pay for a bag.”

Me: “I thought that was the problem in the first place.”

(She finally moves away from the counter to let me check out, but now has to slowly repack her five bags of product into the one cloth bag to carry it out without spilling anything, so she can still hear me.)

Me: *to the cashier* “So, rough night?”

(He smiles and nods. His face still flushed.)

Me: “I’ve been there and believe me, it’s a pain. I used to work here and had to deal with idiots all the time. I had an old guy once fight for fifteen minutes, calling my cashier incompetent, because he misread the price on something and my cashier didn’t read his mind to know he thought it was a different price. You’re going to get those people all the time; they have never worked retail or have never worked, period, so they have no idea how to behave.”

(The customer is now seething while the cashier is finally smiling. The manager is close by watching with a smile. The cashier finishes ringing up my snacks.)

Cashier: “Would you like a bag, ma’am?”

Me: “No, thank you, dear; I brought one in. I’m capable of reading the signs you’ve had posted for the past two months.”

(The lady stormed off carrying her overflowing bag in her arms. For some reason, I felt so much better than when I had come in.)

Related:
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 3
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 2
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage

(I am the front desk manager at an old hotel that has been around since at least twenty years before I was born. I’m in my early thirties. I’m training a new employee who is only twenty and it is his first shift. A customer comes in to check in. I walk my new hire through the process and all is fine until we give him his key.)

New Hire: “You are in room 207 on the second floor. The stairs to go up are just on your left.”

Customer: “Well, where is the elevator?”

Me: “Unfortunately, sir, we don’t have one. We only have the stairs.”

(He stares at us for a moment, then yells:)

Customer: “No elevator? You’re crazy. You’re all crazy!”

(He then stomps away. I turn to my new hire.)

Me: “Right, because we went back in time 20 to 30 years before our birth and decided not to put in an elevator. Welcome to customer service, [New Hire]!”

(I am the front desk manager at a hotel. A guest comes in stating he has just made a reservation online and wants to check in. I check for his reservation and find nothing.)

Me: “Are you sure you made the reservation at this hotel?”

Customer: “Yes, I’m sure it was here. This is [our address], right?”

Me: “Yes, it is. Is it possible the reservation might be under a different name?”

Customer: “Nope, just mine.”

Me: “So, you have the confirmation number?”

Customer: “No, but I have my reservation right here.”

(He shows me his cell phone. It is open to our hotel’s website and is showing a search for rooms on today’s date.)

Me: “Sir, this is just a search result, not a reservation.”

Customer: “No, this is my reservation. See? It says right here, one double room for [today’s date] for [price].”

Me: “If you scroll down, it also shows other rooms and prices. You need to select one and then fill in your info along with your credit card number.”

Customer: “But, this is my reservation…”

Me: “No, sir, this is a search result. I’m happy to make a reservation for you right now, though.”

Customer: “So, you’re telling me—” *does something on his phone and shows me another search result* “—that this is not a reservation?”

Me: *sighs* “Let me make you that reservation.”