(My husband and I are the couple from “A Long Time Ago, In A Ballet Performance Far, Far Away.” We’re flying from New York to Washington State for an Alaskan cruise. He’s a very nervous flyer, and this is a long trip. The plane starts to rumble down the tarmac for takeoff.)

Husband: *looks nervous and a little sick*

Me: “Just pretend the plane is the Millennium Falcon, and we’re blasting off from Mos Eisley spaceport.”

Husband: *smiles and remembers why he married me*

(He was fine, the plane was fine, and we had a great trip.)

(I’m shopping in a big shoe store with my mom. While wandering the back rows, a woman grabs me and this conversation ensues.)

Woman: “Excuse me. Can you help me with these shoes?” *points to a display of shoes on an end row*

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry; I don’t work here.”

Woman: *snottily, rolling her eyes* “I know you don’t work here. I just have a question about these shoes.”

Me: “Oh, okay.”

Woman: “Do you know what the price is?”

Me: “No… because I don’t work here.”

(We have just gotten chip readers installed throughout the park. They work better with the stylus than when you use your finger. This takes place while the customer is paying. He is middle-aged; I’m in my early twenties.)

Customer: *tries to use his finger to hit “OK” on the screen*

Me: “Sorry, sir, you’ll just have to use the stylus; they don’t seem to like when you use your finger.”

Customer: “That’s okay; neither does my wife if you know what I mean.” *laughs*

Me: *gives a small laugh out of awkwardness*

Customer: “I probably shouldn’t have said that, huh?”

Me: “It’s okay, sir; I’ve heard worse working here.”

(I work at the customer service desk of a very popular retailer that has, in the last three years, gotten rid of all rules forbidding piercings, tattoos, and brightly-colored hair as a way to promote employees to feel “free to be themselves.” Because of this, I have had my hair every color under the sun and put back in a lot of the piercings that I originally took out to get this job in the first place. The majority of the customers I interact with on a daily basis don’t seem to have any problems with my appearance and even compliment me from time to time. I am standing at the desk, chatting with one of my supervisors, when an older gentleman comes up with a box of cookies.)

Me: “Hi! How can I help you?”

Customer: “My God, don’t you know how to take care of yourself?!”

Me: *awkwardly smiling, thinking at first that he is just joking* “Excuse me?”

Customer: “With those huge holes in your ears and crap in your face? God. [Store] should really have a uniform so people can’t come into work looking so unprofessional!” *slamming the cookies down onto the counter, maintaining a rude tone the whole time* “They rang me up for the wrong price; they are supposed to be $3.”

(I slowly start the return process, unsure what else to say other than, “Let me fix that for you.” He turns to my supervisor who has been frankly made speechless by how sudden and uncalled for this whole interaction has been. His tone isn’t any nicer to her.)

Customer: “My name is [Customer], by the way. In case you were wondering.”

Supervisor: “Um. Okay, well, just so you know, she is completely in uniform and within policy.”

Customer: “Well, if she is allowed to have all that crap on her face, then I’m allowed to tell her it looks ridiculous!”

(My supervisor tried offering to take over the transaction if I didn’t feel comfortable completing it, but I announced that it was fine and I would just take care of him if it would get him out of the store quicker, while giving him the fakest smile ever the whole time… and also flipping him off with both hands under the counter as he walked away.)

Related:
Piercing Observation, Part 6
Piercing Observation, Part 5
Piercing Observation, Part 4

(We do a motherboard replacement for a customer. Everything seems to be fine except that a moment or two after Windows loads, the screen takes on a yellow tinge. Since it does the same thing when hooked up to an external monitor, we figure the parts distributor has sent a motherboard with a faulty video chip — the logic being that if it was a screen issue, then an external monitor would look normal. I have reloaded the video driver just in case, with the same results. So, I make the dreaded call to the customer, who’s a 20-something kid with a bit of an attitude.)

Me: “It’s looking like the parts distributor sent us a faulty motherboard, since it gets this yellow tinge after it loads Windows.”

Customer: “Oh, yeah, it’s supposed to do that. It’s an app I put in which reduces glare at night.” 

Me: “So… you know we’re putting in a new motherboard and it doesn’t occur to you to tell us that you run an app which turns the screen yellow?!”

(We try to get as much info from clients as we can – passwords, exact symptoms, what antivirus and version of Windows they run, etc. It has never occurred to me that I should need to ask someone if they TINT THEIR FRIGGING SCREEN. So, we wasted an hour of our time troubleshooting a problem that wasn’t a problem. Under normal circumstances, an issue like this — in my experience — would be hardware-related. And people wonder why I get high blood pressure.)