I went to a local bar to watch the College World Series final. There’s no sound on the TV.

Bartender: “We can’t play the sound for the game because more patrons want to play the jukebox than watch the game.”

There are about twelve people in the bar total, including my party of four. This seems silly, seeing as how it’s a sports bar and there aren’t any other major sporting events occurring at the same time as this game.

I decide that since the patrons want the jukebox, the jukebox is what they’ll get. 

I cue up the “Cotton Eyed Joe” by Rednex, six times in a row, and pay the extra to bump it to the front of the queue.

After the first play-through, the jukebox skips to a different song. I call the manager over.

Me: “You need to refund our jukebox money since you won’t play our song.”

Manager: “I’d rather listen to Cotton Eyed Joe six times than refund the money.”

He comes back a few minutes later, hands us $13 cash to cover the songs, and turns on the sound for the baseball game. Turns out his patrons didn’t want to listen to the jukebox that badly after all.

I used to work for a large toy superstore, and they decided to have a special sale on the Wii video game system.

I’ll never forget walking into work and seeing the sale sign, just a few weeks before Black Friday, that said:

Sign: “GET THE Wii FOR $99.99!”

I immediately wanted to call in sick because I knew my day was about to be destroyed, but a manager had already seen me, so it was no use.

You see, with that sale, you could indeed get the Wii (which retailed at $249.99 at the time) for $99.99, but like all deals… You had to read the fine print. 

To get the Wii for $99.99, you had to purchase $150 of other items to make that deal happen. These other items were:

• A 20-pack of our store-branded AA batteries.
• A lame looking Olympics game with popular characters from two different franchises.
• A specific gaming ottoman for the Wii.
• Four items of your choice made by Gear Ape for the Wii system.

It would ring up as $99 for the Wii and $150 for the other items, meaning you ended up spending the regular cost of the Wii of $249.99.

Did many people actually read all those details? F*** no.

I barely made it to the electronics section where I worked before I heard my phone ringing, which, as expected, was someone asking: 

Caller: “Are you guys really selling the Wii for $99?!?!”

These were the easier part of my day because I got to let the customer down gently, and because they’d already questioned the legitimacy of the sale. You see, our store had sent emails out about the deal with the subject line “GET THE Wii FOR $99.99” with the details INSIDE the email.

Then came the trouble customers. Person after person who’d thrown on their shoes and rushed to the store to get their hands on a $99 Wii, only to b**** at me when I told them there was more to the sale and they needed to read the ENTIRE email. I’ll never forget one particular woman, though.

Customer: *Walks right up to me and ignores my greeting.* “I want the Wii for $99.99!”

Me: *Internal groan.* “There’s more detail to the sale than that, you also have to purchase these other items to—”

Customer: “—I don’t care about any of that and don’t want it, I just want the Wii for $99.99!”

Me: “I’m afraid I can’t do that. The entire detail of the sale was in the email and all the advertising.”

Customer: “I just told you I don’t care about all that. The email said the Wii was $99.99, and you need to sell it to me like that.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but that’s not how the sale works.”

Customer: “Then that’s false advertising. You are falsely advertising.”

Me: “It’s not false advertising. All the detail is there in black and white.”

Customer: “Not it’s not! It’s false advertising, and I want to see a manager!”

This, of course, was not the last time I had to call a manager over that day to deal with someone who started whining about false advertising. My manager did set her straight, though, and of course, she didn’t get a $99 Wii.

That sale was only three days long, but it was absolutely miserable. I got called names by rude customers, got b****ed at, and told myself I’d quit on the spot if they ever did another advertisement like that again. Yes, there was an occasional parent who thought it was a good deal, but mostly it was just people who didn’t know how to read. 

Also, for those of you about to come in and say, “Well, I’d just buy the bundle and return all the other stuff, then keep my $99 Wii”, you can’t do that. Anything sold as a bundle/deal in my Toybox store also had to be *returned* as a bundle to keep people from doing just that.

We have to enter birth dates for anybody purchasing any sort of alcoholic beverage, including any zero-alcohol version as per store policy. It’s been that way for at least four years (maybe longer). We also have to ID everyone, no matter how old/young they appear to be (another coworker f***ed up, now Illinois is up on our a**).

I had a closing shift on Wednesday, stuck on the same register the whole shift, when a guy in his 40s or 50s walks up with two cases of a non-alcoholic beer and milk. Obviously, the register asks me to enter a birthdate when I scan the beer cases, to which I ask for his ID.

Customer: “There’s no alcohol in it.”

Me: “I know, but in order for me to check them out, I need to know what your date of birth is.”

Customer: *Pointing at the box.* “Non… Alc… o… hol… ic… Brew.”

Me: “But I still need to see your ID.”

Customer: “That’s only for stuff WITH alcohol! This doesn’t have any!”

Technically, there’s still alcohol in non-alcoholic beer.

Customer: “There ain’t any alcohol in water, is there?”

Me: “No, bu—”

Customer: “THEN I DON’T NEED TO IDENTIFY MYSELF! SO, RING UP MY STUFF SO I CAN LEAVE!”

At this point, my manager comes over to see what’s going on. I explain my side, and the customer is just screaming about why he has to show his ID. Manager agreed with the customer and entered a random date of birth (I’m assuming it’s her own) without actually ID-ing the customer. He paid, left the store, along with the classic “I’m reporting this to corporate!” line. I just shut down the register (the manager told me to) and took my break a little early.

This is a story of both a bad customer and a bad employee. It happened when I was sixteen in the mid-nineties. My parents had a deep mistrust of “the man” and spent their lives trying to avoid things like paying taxes or anything that meant their money might be taken by “the man”.

As a teenager, I just wanted to live normally, like my friends, and, at this particular time, one of my biggest bugbears was that I didn’t have a bank account. My parents did have an account for essentials and things they couldn’t get around, but most of our household money was squirreled away at home.

I had some money of my own, but relied on my parents to keep a log of this and hand me cash when I wanted. I saw friends having much more freedom and control over access to their money, and I wanted to be like them. Also, I wanted to get a part-time job and needed a bank account for that. Up to this point, I had been working ad hoc as a waitress in a family friend’s cafe and was paid cash-in-hand, with that cash going into my dad’s pillowcase, or wherever the family money was kept.

My friends also made comments about me not being as grown up as them, because I had to ask my parents for money and didn’t know how to use a bank. At age sixteen, in the nineties, not being seen as grown up was a big deal, so I begged my parents to let me open an account, and finally, my mum agreed.

We went to the High Street Bank one day around lunchtime (it must have been school holidays). The queue was enormous, and we waited at least thirty minutes before finally reaching the teller.

Mum explained that we wanted to open an account, and the teller immediately became a bit anxious, looking around us at the long line of customers, and explained that we couldn’t just walk in to do this. We should have made an appointment, and appointments for this sort of thing are not available over lunchtimes, which are the busiest times, and all staff are needed for basic transactions.

My mum suddenly exploded, which was a common personality trait. She started yelling at the teller, saying she was here to do business and was not leaving. She said it was horrible customer service, and she had waited in line for such a long time and would not now be turned away.

The teller stood her ground and said there was an appointment later that day at 3 PM, but that was all she could offer. Mum had other plans later, so she couldn’t make that time and continued to argue, her voice getting louder and louder.

I was feeling so uncomfortable in the middle of this and could tell that my mum was in the wrong. Eventually, I spoke up and said I could take the 3 PM appointment on my own and really didn’t need (or want – but I didn’t say that) my mum there.

After a bit more arguing with me, as well as the teller, Mum relented. I was given information about the types of documentation I would need to bring later in the afternoon, and, to everyone’s relief, we finally left the bank.

Going back later in the afternoon, I was quite nervous and even more so when I realised it was the same staff member who would be dealing with my account. I was a very shy teenager who hated confrontation, and the staff member was clearly offhand and abrupt with me, so I decided to mention the elephant in the room:

Me: “I just want to say, umm, before we get properly started, that I’m, umm, sorry about my mum earlier. She, umm, doesn’t really know how these things work.”

She said she accepted and appreciated my apology, but that my mum had been totally out of order. I agreed and hoped that would be the end of it, but no, throughout the entire appointment, she bad-mouthed my mother, saying some very inappropriate things, and just wouldn’t let the subject drop.

She kept saying that I seemed like such a nice girl and how could I possibly have such a terrible mother, also wagging her finger at me and telling me not to turn out like that. She even started criticising my mum’s appearance, her clothes, and her haircut.

I was sitting there thinking that yes, my mum had been in the wrong, and I felt sorry for the member of staff who had had to deal with that stress, but it also wasn’t a great look to be so openly and harshly critical of a teenager’s mother. Two wrongs definitely don’t make a right.

A woman calls in and says she had made a change to her flights because the airline had made some changes, and she was forced to pay a steep $1500 per ticket in fare difference. Understandable. She says her sister has the exact same itinerary and made the same flight change and didn’t have to pay a thing.

She claimed my colleague “pressured” her to accept the fare difference. So, she was expecting us to refund her the difference.

Caller: “It’s not fair, my sister didn’t pay a thing, and your colleague made it sound like I had to say yes.”

Me: “That’s certainly concerning. Let me look at the record and the notes.”

Caller: “And here’s my sister’s flight info. You can see it yourself that she did the exact same thing, and I shouldn’t have to pay if she didn’t.”

So initially, it looked like the colleague working on this caller’s flight change had made the mistake and failed to get a waiver to change the flights for free. However, it was discovered she rescheduled her return flight to depart three days earlier… which is not allowed per airline involuntary schedule change rules. If the airline makes a change to your schedule that doesn’t work for you, you can only rebook to another flight for free the same day, or one day before or after the original departure date. If the schedule change from the airline is significant (a change of three hours or more, depending on the airline), then they can cancel for a full refund.

So, I call the airline… and the airline advises that my colleague was correct, she would have to pay the fare difference because she changed her flight to return three days earlier.

Airline: “She is not due a refund; she would have to pay the fare difference.”

Me: “She says her sister got the exact same thing done for free. Here’s the record locator.”

The airline pulls up the record locator… and oh boy, my other colleague who helped this woman’s sister had seriously messed up. She had gone ahead and changed the flights for free with a generic waiver and had failed to reach out to the airline first to get approval before making the change, so our agency will now be required to pay the fare difference to the airline.

Me: *To the caller.* “I spoke to the airline, and they said you were correctly charged the fare difference. There was no error here.”

Caller: “But what about my sister? I told you, it was free for her! I won’t accept this!”

Me: “…So here’s the thing, the airline says your sister should have also paid the fare difference as well. I don’t know what occurred on your sister’s call to us, but we may be reaching out to her regarding her flights now.”

Caller: *Realization dawning on her that her sister may now be forking over $1500 too because of her.* “Oh my god…”

Me: “The colleague who assisted you processed the flight change correctly. I’m sorry, but that’s been confirmed by the airline directly.”

Caller: *In panic mode.* “Isn’t there anybody I could speak to who could advocate for us? Like a higher up or CEO? I’m a [Special shiny client], I’m sure you can do something for us.”

Me: “I have done all that I can. I’ve spoken to the airline and a supervisor; there was no error here…on your record.”

Caller: “…I will figure something out and call back.”

So moral of the story, the “you did it for them, why not me” argument can royally backfire. I would hate to be her sister right now.