This occurs a couple of months before Christmas. We’ve noticed customers returning faulty products surges at about this time of year, but we’re prepared and are staffed sufficiently. A customer approaches the counter with an opened box with a lamp inside.

Customer:
“I got this a month ago and now it won’t work.”

Me:
“Oh, I’m sorry about that. I see your receipt is in the box; would you like a replacement or just a full refund?”

Customer:
“I want to know why it stopped working.”

Me:
“Occasionally, we find that one or two of our electronics just break down for no real reason. It won’t be anything you’ve done; it’s just one of those things. Sorry again, though. I get the frustration.”

Customer:
“I want to know why.”

Me:
“I don’t know exactly why, sir, but as I said, you have your receipt, so it’s up to you if you want a replacement or a refund.”

Customer:
“I want you to tell me why my lamp stopped working.”

This goes on for a few minutes, and the lines are piling up halfway down the store. But this guy will not stop asking about the lamp.

Customer:
“I don’t understand why it broke! Why won’t you tell me why my lamp is broken?!”

Me:
“Sir, I have explained to you that this is just one of those situations where you’ve unfortunately come across a faulty product. I cannot tell you exactly why your lamp is not working, but I am saying that you can either get a replacement lamp or I can process your refund now. What would you like to do?”

Customer:
*Loudly* “I WANT YOU TO TELL ME WHY THIS LAMP STOPPED WORKING!”

Me:
“I can’t. I’m really sorry, but I can’t give you an answer because I just don’t know.”

Customer:
*Sighs loudly* “You know, you’re really making me question why I shop here.”

Me:
*Without even thinking* “And you’re making me question my will to live.”

There’s a pause, and my coworkers look over at me, their mouths open with “no-you-did-not” faces. I instantly know that I’ve made a blunder.

Customer:
“YOU ARE UNPROFESSIONAL! I WILL BE CALLING YOUR MANAGER, YOUNG LADY! ABSOLUTELY UNPROFESSIONAL! UN-PRO-FESSIONAL!”

He storms off, leaving his lamp on the counter. I know I’m really in for it. I definitely said it, and I was definitely b****y about it. He was being a real pain, but I’m wrong for saying that. I make a mental note to get into work earlier than usual so I can speak to my manager about it. He’s a good guy, and we have a pretty jokey working relationship, but I know that I’ve crossed a line with this.

The next day, early morning:

Me:
“Hey, are you free for a sec? I have something I need to fess up to.”

Manager:
“Yes, I’ve just received a call from a man who said—” *snorts* “—you told him he was making you seriously consider ending it all.”

Me:
*Sheepish* “Yeah, he told me I was making him question why he shopped at [Company], and I told him he was making me question my will to live. He was being uncooperative, but I’m not proud of what I said.”

The manager giggles while taking a sip of coffee.

Me:
“Do you need to wait for [Assistant Manager] to have a disciplinary?”

Manager:
“You’re not having a disciplinary.”

Me:
“Oh? Um, why?”

Manager:
“He wouldn’t let me get a word in after I told him that I couldn’t tell him exactly why his lamp stopped working.”

Me:
“Yeah, he did the same with me yesterday. I offered him a replacement or a refund but he wouldn’t decide and he kept trying to get me to tell him exactly why it broke and would not let it go.”

Manager:
“Well, he also tried to tell me that you didn’t offer him a refund or a replacement which I know is a bloody lie. So we’ll just leave it be.”

Me:
*Surprised but grateful* “Okaaaaay, thanks!”

As I’m walking into the staff room:

Manager:
“You’ve got some real zingers, don’t you? BLOODY HILARIOUS!”

Note to self: Customers can be the worst, but keep your composure. And don’t count on your manager thinking you’re funny.

(We sell plumbing supplies mainly to the trade. We also have a coffee machine, fresh water, cold drinks, etc. A plumber comes in and walks up to the self-serve coffee machine. After about two minutes, I hear him fiddling with the cup and looking confused. I walk over.)

Plumber: “There’s something wrong with the machine.”

Me: “Oh, okay. What happened?”

Plumber: “I pressed ‘espresso’ but all I got was this really small coffee.”

Me: *internal laugh*

(I work for a major cellphone company. When customers call during busy times, they are on hold for approximately five to ten minutes before coming through to us. During this time, our corporate adverts and promos and options on our website are relayed between music. This customer comes through to me.)

Me: “Hello. Welcome to [Company]. How can I help today?”

Customer: “I’d like to check my balance, please.”

Me: “Sure thing. Can I take your phone number, please?”

Customer: “Yes, it’s [number].”

Me: “Thanks. Okay, your balance is $4.21.”

Customer: *sounding confused* “Oh… right. And how much is in my savings?”

Me: “Sorry?”

Customer: “How much is in my savings account?”

Me: “You do realise you’ve called [Cell Phone Provider].”

Customer: “Oh… this isn’t [Major National Bank that in no way sounds like our company or has a similar phone number]?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Right. Sorry.” *hangs up*

(I am serving in the fast lane, which is for six items or less. It’s fairly busy but we’re going through the queue pretty quickly. People wait no more than two minutes in line at absolute worst. A woman storms up beside me, through the checkout exits.)

Pushy Lady: “I want to buy this pineapple.”

Me: *continuing to serve my current customer* “Of course, ma’am, just hop in line and we’ll get to you shortly.”

Pushy Lady: “No! Here’s the money; I just want it now!” *tries to thrust a note at me, despite my hands being busy with another customer’s items*

Me: *startled* “I… beg your pardon, ma’am. I don’t know how much the pineapple is. I’d have to ring it up; otherwise, I’d get in trouble.” *gives the gentleman I’m serving his total*

Pushy Lady: “I don’t want to wait!” *storms off*

Gentleman: “I was about to offer to pay for it, but…” 

(We shrugged at each other and he paid and left. I continued serving the line. A few minutes later, I saw the pushy woman being served at one of the other tills… by a supervisor. She looked like she was complaining but I never heard anything about it. Guess the supervisor didn’t agree that she could just skip the line because she didn’t want to wait.)

(Most shops close around 8:00 pm in my town, except one which is open until midnight. I finish work at 9:30 and so decide to pop in to pick up a few things. I am in my uniform: a light blue polo shirt with orange contrast and our logo on it and black company pants with an orange stripe on each pocket. The uniform of the store is a dark navy polo with red contrast and the store logo on it and plain black pants. Most employees also wear a radio. The first customer to ask me for help I think nothing of and just point out that I don’t work there. They give me a confused look saying, “But you’re wearing a blue shirt.” The second I’m a tad annoyed by, but they accept their mistake and move on. The third argues with me:)

Me: “Sorry, I don’t work here.”

Customer: “You’re wearing the uniform.”

Me: “Actually, I’m wearing a [Other Store] uniform. The store uniform is dark blue, not light blue.”

Customer: “You’re still wearing it!”

Me: *having gone well past tolerance and patience into annoyance because I just want to get home* “You know what?”

(I then took my shirt off and bundled it up in my hand — I was wearing my gym shirt under anyway — and was rewarded by a slightly offended and horrified look from the customer before they stalked away. I was further rewarded as I walked past the next aisle and spied an actual employee chuckling quietly.)

Related:
A Uniform Response, Part 2
A Uniform Response