Your Friendly Neighborhood Customer Service

, , , , | Right | March 10, 2015

(I work in the video games department of a large toy store. We are doing a promotion for one of the Spider-Man movies. They hire an actor who dresses up as Spider-Man and gives out autographs. I sneak an autograph from him in during my lunch break and the actor goes home in the afternoon. After ringing up the last customer, a young boy comes up to the register with his dad. He has a Spider-Man jacket and a t-shirt.)

Dad: “Hey, we’re here to see Spider-Man. Do you know where he is?”

Me: “Oh! I’m sorry, but he left an hour ago.”

(Immediately the boy looks sad and the dad smiles apologetically to his son.)

Dad: “I’m so sorry, [Son]. Maybe we’ll see him next time?”

(By now, the son is about to cry. I see the autograph under my register and quickly come up with a story.)

Me: “Oh, [Son], right? Spider-Man told me all about you! He had a lot of crime to fight today but he told me to give this to you. He’s very proud of you and he wished he could have met his biggest fan in person! I’m really glad I found you!”

(I gave him the autograph and his eyes lit up. They thanked me repeatedly while I rung up their purchase and I watched the boy leave with an extra skip in his step. I never liked working in retail but this was one of my favorites. I was more than happy to brighten his day!)

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A Gross Grocery Error

, , , , , | Right | January 2, 2014

(The customer in front of me is dropping off a prescription. She’s on her phone.)

Customer: “…and then can you pick up [Child] from school, or do you want me— Hang on, I’m at the front of the line.” *to pharmacist* “Here’s my prescription, ID, insurance data. Need anything else?”

Pharmacist: “Just give me a minute to read through this.”

Customer: *on phone* “So, anyway, about the groceries. Why is taking—”

Pharmacist: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “Oh, hang on.” *to pharmacist* “Sorry, I know it’s rude to talk on the phone, but—”

Pharmacist: “No, no. Your prescription. It says ‘cheese, yogurt, chunky peanut butter.'”

(There is a pause.)

Customer: *on phone* “I think I know why it’s taking you so long at the grocery store.”

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Ah, Grandmothers, Part 3

, , , , , , , | Right | November 29, 2013

(My aunt works at a popular doughnut shop chain near my grandmother’s house. One evening, my older sister and her boyfriend, my little brother, and I decide to head there after an afternoon at a fair, while waiting for my mom to pick us up. A short while afterward, a couple of tough-guy type young men walk in, making rude comments, being loud, and generally making a nuisance of themselves. The leader of the group approaches the counter where my aunt is working.)

Customer #1: “Yo, b****, gimme your number.”

Aunt: “I don’t think so. Is there anything you’d like to order?”

Customer #1: “How ’bout a piece of that a**?”

Aunt: “Sorry, not on the menu. Now order something or please leave.You’re holding up the line.”

Customer #2: “B****, we’ll leave when we wanna leave.”

Customer #3: “Yeah, who’s gonna stop us, little old you?”

Aunt: “No, little old [Manager]. Now, please, place your order or get out.”

(The customer orders two cases of donuts, and throws his money to the ground.)

Customer #1: “See what you did? Pick it up and hand it back to me!”

Aunt: “Um, it’s on your side of the counter.”

(The customer picks up his money and walks over behind the counter and throws it down again.)

Customer #1: “Now pick it up, b****!”

Aunt: “No. As a matter of fact, leave. I’m refusing service.”

Customer #1: “Why, because I’m black?!”

Aunt: “No, because you’re acting like an imperious a**hole, and you have been since you walked in. Now leave, or I’m calling the police.”

(As luck would have it, a police officer stops inside the shop.)

Me: “Wow, that was fast.”

Customer #1: “Officer, this racist b**** was trying to kick me and my homies out. We ain’t even done nothin’!”

Officer: “Really? Because what I saw was you throwing your money at this woman twice, in addition to walking behind the counter, which isn’t allowed for non-employees.”

(The customer and his buddies start throwing a fit, yelling expletives, flipping everybody off, and generally acting unruly. Then they head outside and start throwing boxes around; the leader even takes off his shirt and tries goading everyone into a fight.)

Customer #1: “COME ON, I’LL SHOW Y’ALL! I’LL BEAT Y’ALLS A**ES SO HARD! COME ON!”

(He has another argument with the officer, but thankfully leaves with his buddies. However, he comes back a few minutes later accompanied not by his friends, but his grandmother.)

Customer #1’s Grandmother: “So I understand y’all have a problem servin’ my grandbaby?”

Customer #1: “Yeah, yeah, they were callin’ me all kinds of s***, and the girl over there was saying we were on food stamps!”

Customer’s Grandmother: “…[Customer #1], stand outside and wait while I talk to the lady here.”

(The customer steps outside and my aunt explains everything that happened. After hearing it, the grandmother is incensed and walks outside.)

Customer #1’s Grandmother: “YOU LITTLE PUNK-A**! GET YO’ A** IN THE CAR NOW! You dragged me outta my home for THIS?!”

(As they drive off, my mom finally pulls in.)

Mom: “So, what’d I miss?”

 

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Don’t Judge A Look By Its Cover

, , , , | Working | April 25, 2013

(I am 21 years old. Five years earlier, I was in hospital for operations to remove tumors, but I lost 11 lbs. in the process. Since then, I have had special medicine to make me put on weight, but despite this, I am still underweight. Note: I am in a very light t-shirt.)

Me: “Can I have the [Popular Meal]?”

Waitress: “No.”

Me: “Isn’t there any left?”

Waitress: “No. I just don’t want to serve you.”

Me: “…Why?”

Waitress: “Because people like you just WASTE this restaurant’s money…”

(The waitress leans in so close to my face that she spits in it.)

Waitress: “You think you will get thin by throwing up so you can get in [Fashion Magazine] and people will want to have sex with you? Well, let me get this into your trampy brain — you look terrible! Your skeleton is showing, you’re covered in freckles, and you have stupid marks all over your body.”

Me: *almost in tears* “They’re scars—”

Waitress: “Oh, so you want to self-harm yourself as well? Being ungrateful and throwing up isn’t enough for you? But now, because people don’t like you, because you’re so ugly no matter how hard you vomit, you hurt yourself? Well, listen to me, you b****: YOU DESERVE IT!”

(By now, the whole restaurant is watching us. The waitress continues berating me. By this point, I can no longer control myself and am in tears.)

Waitress: “You want to make yourself pretty?! Well, you’ve failed! Get out of here and spend less time making yourself look pretty to have sex, and more time on your exams! How old are you, 16?”

Me: “21… but I was in—”

Waitress: “Yeah, go on! Cry! You deserve it! I hate your kind!”

(The manager comes up.)

Manager: “[Waitress], I have TOLD you about insulting customers! Go and get your stuff and get out.”

(I finally summon up enough courage to respond with a parting shot to the waitress.)

Me: “I was in the hospital!”

(I got a 70% discount for the waitress’ insults. By the way, I’m getting better!)

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Hard Drugs And Harder Pharmacists

, , , , , , | Right | July 31, 2009

(A teen approaches my cash register very slowly.)

Me: “Can I help you?”

Customer: “Give me all the f****** medicine!”

(The teen pulls out an airsoft pistol with orange tip still glued to the front.)

Me: “The pharmacy is in the back of the store.”

Customer: “Oh… okay.”

(He holsters the airsoft gun in his belt and darts down the aisles to the back of the store. My manager comes out of the back room because of the commotion.)

Manager: “Who was that?”

Me: “Some kid looking for drugs. He went back to the pharmacy.”

Manager: “Why didn’t you call the police?”

(The teen runs screaming from the back of the store, out of the front door, followed closely by the pharmacy technician, a 35-year-old boxer built like a fridge.)

Me: “Doug started working today.”