I work customer service for a small sales website that sells gifts, graphic T-shirts, and stuff like that. 

One of my favorite things is that, having been there for a couple of years, they trust my judgment; they know that I know a lot of loopholes and how to get the system to do what I want, even if it’s not supposed to be able to, and they allow me to do so at my own discretion. I had actually been forcing refunds unknowingly because I just happened upon how to do it a few months into my employment. I thought it was a normal part of the always-convoluted system until a coworker was complaining about not being able to do refunds himself and having to put tickets through to billing, instead. Thankfully, when I showed my manager how it worked and what I’d been doing, he just took notes on how for himself and told me to use the power wisely.

The point is that I can make a lot of exceptions, but only if I want to do so.

We’ve started working from home, so my partner and I are sharing an office. One day, I get a call from an irate customer. She failed to use the prepaid return label we gave her because she went to the wrong delivery company and got mad that they wouldn’t take the label. Instead of going to the correct company to ship it on us, she spent $8 to return it and demanded we refund her.

From most people’s knowledge and the company handbook, there is no physical way in the system to do this; we can only refund the item and shipping we took and cannot refund anything beyond what they paid. This is why we provide the labels and it’s made clear in multiple places, including the return form they get with their packing slip. The only exception is a code for a $5 courtesy refund that the system will accept.

However, it’s an old system, and there’s a way around most things, this included; it involves about ten extra steps and opening two instances of our system at once side by side, so it’s a bit of a pain, but I can get it done. But since it’s not supposed to work like that, and technically it’s against policy, I don’t do it often, mostly because I know it runs the risk of a customer demanding it later with a “But they did it for me before!” attitude.

That is exactly the sort of vibe this lady gives me. She is snippy from the get-go.

Lady: “I don’t see why they didn’t just take the label!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but as it’s a [Delivery Company] label, it can only be scanned by [Delivery Company]’s system.”

Lady: “Well, you should have made it more obvious where the label was for!”

Me: “The labels do have the logo in the upper right, ma’am. I’m sorry if it was a little hard to notice.”

This is bull: the logo is about three inches wide and two inches tall, oversized specifically so that it’s easy to see.

It goes on for a while. I end up Googling her town out of curiosity while she rants, and I find that there’s only one location for the delivery company she tried to drop it at, and it’s less than a mile from one of the correct ones! I ask her if they made her aware of that when she dropped it off, but that just sends her into a spiel about how the workers for [Wrong Company] should have just accepted the label and taken it over to [Correct Company] for her. 

I offer her the $5 courtesy refund, but she keeps going over the remaining three dollars and change. By the time my call timer hits three minutes, she is swearing in general at the situation; I swear when frustrated, too, so I don’t mind it. When she turns it on me, though, I shut it down.

Me: “Ma’am, I understand your frustration, but as I’ve explained, there is nothing we can do. We gave you a prepaid label but you chose not to use it. I will not tolerate being cussed at and insulted. I’ve applied the $5 coupon to your account. Have a good day.”

And I hang up. 

My partner doesn’t work with people, so they are pretty shocked; the second half of the conversation was loud enough for them to overhear both sides. I roll my eyes and tell them it’s normal.

A couple of weeks later, we’re both working again, and I get a call from another person. She sounds younger than the first, who was probably in her fifties; this woman sounds twenty-five to thirty at best guess.

Young Lady: “Hi. I’m calling because I returned an item from my order via [Different Company from label]. I didn’t realize it was the wrong place until I was already there, and I ended up just paying for it. Is there anything you can do?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but the reason we send the prepaid labels is that we cannot refund outside shipping charges; the system won’t allow it.”

My partner catches my eye and gives me a sort of, “Oh, s***, again?” look as we both brace for anger.

Young Lady: “Okay, I kind of figured as much. Thanks, anyway!”

After a breath of surprise, I say: 

Me: “Oh, you know what, one moment. Can you tell me how much it was for?”

Young Lady: “Oh, uh… It was just ten dollars and seventeen cents. It’s fine.”

Me: “Do you mind holding while I talk to my supervisor? I’d like to see if I can do something for you.”

Young Lady: “Oh, yeah, sure!”

I put her on hold and, instead of calling my supervisor, take that moment to open a second system and work the loophole. I manage to refund her money.

Me: “Thank you for holding! I got permission to override the system; your refund has been issued! If you can, please take a photo or copy of your receipt and send it to [my email] for our records.”

Young Lady: “Really?! Thank you! I’ll take care of that now!”

She thanks me a few more times and we hang up.

Partner: “Wait, I thought you couldn’t refund external shipping?”

Me: “We’re not supposed to be able to, but I can.”

I explain the loopholes to him.

Partner: “So, wait, why didn’t you just do it for that lady last week? Wouldn’t it have been easier than being cussed out?”

Me: “Probably, but I don’t reward that kind of behavior. I only use loopholes for nice people; otherwise, it’s by the book, sorry, nothing I can do!”

If only more companies would let their employees do the same.

I am the maître-d at a busy Manhattan spot. On weekends we mainly seat reservations, but we take walk-ins, as well.

Customer: “Can I see a menu, please? I have a party of two, if we choose to stay.”

I give her a menu. She takes it outside and proceeds to sit at one of the tables, which is reserved. I can’t have her sitting there as it is for parties of four, and I have one coming in soon.

Me: “Ma’am, can I offer you this table over here that’s meant for two?”

Customer: “No, I want to keep this table.”

Me: “I have reservations coming in that need the tables for four.”

Customer: “Put them at that other table you offered me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t comfortably put a four-top reservation at a two-top table. And it wouldn’t be fair to do that to people who booked in advance.”

She finally takes the two-top after LOTS of arguing.

Then, her friend comes, and things get worse. She comes up to the front.

Customer: “Can you please move us? My friend is allergic to the sun and she can’t sit there.”

Me: “I’m glad to move you to an indoor table.”

Customer: “We don’t want an indoor table. We want that one!”

She points to another four-top.

Me: “Ma’am, what you see is what you get. The table I have you at is the only outdoor one I can give you. Would you like to speak to the manager?”

Customer: “Please.”

The manager, who is also my boyfriend, takes a look at my iPad and tells her what I told her.

Manager: “We can’t offer you any of these four-tops. You can sit where we seated you.”

She puts up another fight but then goes back to her two-top.

The host, who works beside me, walks by them not even five minutes later to seat someone else. They flag her down and tell her I’m awful and difficult. I go out there again to see if she’s still causing problems for staff and see that she and her friend have moved themselves to a larger table. I walk over and she goes on her whole “my friend is allergic to the sun” spiel. Her friend is pulling an Oscar-worthy performance, acting as if she’s ill. Meanwhile, it’s raining and there’s not a spot of sun out.

Me: “Once again, I am happy to move you inside to accommodate the sun allergy.”

Customer: “No, we can’t do that! We want this table!”

That’s it. I get the manager and he goes to tell them they have to move as we have a party of five coming for that table in ten minutes. They look at each other.

Customer: *To her friend* “Just ignore him and keep eating.”

They made conversation over him as he was trying to talk to them.

My boyfriend is an extremely chill guy. Not much gets to him, but I could tell that this was pushing him to the edge. He ended up calling the owner and the cops. He told them that these women were disrespecting his staff and he wanted to put a stop to it. He told the women he was going to call them beforehand, but this didn’t deter them, and they stayed put at the table.

The cops showed up and offered to escort them out, but the manager said no because at that point they were already basically done. (I would’ve just let them escort the women out because they were already there). The cops said they were happy to do things like this especially, when it comes to entitled customers, so that was nice, but they ended up leaving without talking to them.

I set up the five-top around them as they were eating, adding chairs and place settings. They ended their experience by telling the server he was wonderful and that he wouldn’t believe what “they had to go through”. Please.

I’m one of those lazy sorts that doesn’t have the energy to track down a bunch of fresh ingredients for a meal, so the “pre-gathered” salad mixes that many grocery stores offer are a godsend for me.

On this particular day, I was browsing through the options, picked up one sealed bowl, and noticed something moving inside. I took a closer look, and there were several small beetles crawling around in the leaves in the bowl. I suppressed my first instinct to dropkick the bowl across the store and instead held it out at full extension in front of me before turning to the bored-looking worker rearranging the displays nearby.

Me: “Excuse me! There are beetles in this mix.”

The employee gave the shortest and most disinterested glance at the bowl.

Employee #1: “I don’t see anything.”

He then turned away and went back to the display. I’m not in the habit of trying to engage someone who has obviously decided to ignore me, so I dragged my cart over to the nearby deli counter, still holding the bowl out, and addressed the employee behind the counter there.

Me: “Hi! I found a salad bowl full of beetles.”

The employee looked confused, peered down into the bowl, and then obviously spotted the bugs, as she jerked backward suddenly.

Employee #2: “Holy fuuuu—” *glanced at me* “—dgey sprinkles.”

She took the bowl and then glanced around, obviously unsure where to set it down or what precisely to do with it. After a moment, she just held it out to the side like I had and then turned to give me a somewhat strained smile.

Employee #2: “Thanks. We’ll look into this.”

I nodded and then turned towards the displays of fruit, as I was a bit put off of getting another mix after this little interlude, but I still wanted to have at least “something healthy” so I could feel better about the box of donuts I already had loaded into my cart.

As I was looking over the selection of bananas, I glanced over to see four workers all gathered around the salad mix display, pulling the bowls off of the shelves. Standing a bit to one side was the original employee who had ignored me. He was scowling, and, when he spotted me looking their way, he lifted up his arm slightly and flipped me off. One of the other workers spotted the motion, looked at him, looked at me, and then yanked the first employee’s arm down.

Employee #3: “What do you think you’re doing?”

I’d made my selections by that point, so I moved on. I’m guessing that the original employee got in trouble or something due to my report, enough to get upset at me for it. I have to laugh at how someone can be so lazy that they won’t put forward even a minuscule amount of effort to check when someone tells them about a contaminated product but simultaneously be so motivated by spite that they’ll put the effort into flipping them off and potentially risk their job.

A close friend offered to babysit the entire weekend of New Year’s so we could have one more night on the town before our second child arrived. On New Year’s Day, I checked my phone and saw our friend had sent us a video.

The video had him hitting our son on the head with an inflatable mallet that squeaked each time it hit him. Our son kept laughing and was clearly having fun.

The caption for his video read:

Friend: “Just thought you should know [Son] has opted to celebrate New Year’s in the traditional manner of getting hammered.”

This story is part of our International Day Of Happiness roundup!

Read the next International Day Of Happiness roundup story!

Read the International Day Of Happiness roundup!

At the age of eighteen, when I moved away from home, I learned the value of researching a business before accepting a job offer — unfortunately at the expense of many other unwitting victims.

This took place in the late 1990s when PCs cost as much as low-end cars and most people didn’t have the Internet at home.

I answered an advertisement in a newspaper looking for commission-based salesmen to sell credit card processing services and equipment to businesses. As soon as I read, “No cold calling or door-to-door sales,” I grabbed my phone.

At face value, it seemed like a legit business. They had a large, luxurious suite with several offices and departments inside. The sales team leader gave a lengthy, thorough presentation introducing the company, giving individual interviews, and hiring a select few from the large group that showed up. And most importantly, I wasn’t required to purchase any sales kit or pay any money.

Sales leads were generated from typical means of advertisements as well as from a call center that telemarketed for the company. My only responsibility was to show up to each appointment and make the sale. Although our team leader strongly encouraged us to use pressure tactics, my own conscience held me back from that, and I simply used persuasion tactics that landed me sales from business owners who were genuinely interested.

I quickly accelerated at a pace to where I felt like a superstar; I was handing in more signed contracts faster than they could get someone out there to help set up the equipment!

What happened next was almost like the ending scene out of a bad movie. In the middle of the night over the weekend, I was up playing video games when I heard the flap to my mailbox slam shut, followed by a car pulling out of my driveway and leaving. I looked in my mailbox to find a paycheck from the company for nearly twice the amount I was expecting to get with a sticky note saying, “Thanks a bunch! Good luck!”

I remember getting this uneasy, eerie feeling that so many things were just off about this. And it turned out that my intuition was right. I showed up to work that following Monday ready to grab my sales leads and get busy, and I beheld the suite… completely empty and stripped to the bare walls, and a group of equally confused fellow salespeople standing in the middle of the forlorn room with “WTF?!” written over their faces.

Although we were all clearly out of work, none of us could really get that angry because we had all been given enormous paychecks that — for me, at least — definitely would hold us over for a couple of months while we looked for work.

A couple of weeks later, I casually strolled into a restaurant that I had sold a system and contract to, merely intending to have lunch. The owner noticed me and gave me a look like I had stolen her mother’s life savings.

Owner: *Charging up to me* “You f***ed up bad showing your face here! BARRY! GET OUT HERE NOW! BARRY! [Employee], go get Barry!”

I wasn’t about to find out who “Barry” was and what they were about to do to me. I bolted out of the restaurant.

That evening, I got on the Internet at a library and looked up the name of my now former employer. They were a real business, all right, but my search turned up dozens upon dozens of irate merchants all over the country. As it turned out, all of the lines we were told to use during our sales training were either outright lies or highly misleading.

The four-year “contracts” they had me selling turned out to be very slickly worded LEASES that couldn’t be cancelled. The $199 “cancellation fee,” if you took the time to read the fine print and legal mumbo jumbo, was actually the minimum amount a merchant would have to pay to get out of the lease. Adding to the sting was a mass of hidden charges and fees that NONE of us were told about, resulting in the merchants paying much more than we had said they would. In each instance, the company would set up shop in a major city, aggressively sell to as many merchants as they could, pay their salespeople a single large check (either as “hush money” or to eliminate the chances of anyone disputing the amount they should have gotten), and then disappear literally overnight before the word about them got out.

In absolute horror and shame at what I had inadvertently done, I ended up writing letters of apology to everyone I could think of that I’d ensnared in this mess, and then I moved several hours away to where my dad lived. I’ve since vowed never to work as a commission-based salesman ever again.

Do your homework and read the fine print — whether you are customer or employee!