Customer: “Can you fax something for me?”

Me: “It’s actually a self-serve fax, but I can show you how it works.”

Customer: “Okay.”

Me: “It’s really easy. You don’t have to press any special buttons first, or pick up the phone or anything. All you have to do first is dial the number. If it’s toll free or long distance, you need to dial the one first, just like a phone.”

Customer: “I’m confused.”

Me: “All you have to do is dial the number.”

Customer: “I’m still confused.”

Me: “Just dial the number.”

Customer: “Well, how do I do that when the number’s on the paper I’m faxing!?”

Me: “You don’t have to put the paper in first, you can do that after you’ve dialed.”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “Right now, all you need to do is dial the number.”

(I swear people are this ignorant on purpose.)

(I work at a reception desk on the second floor of a civic centre, and exchanges similar to this one are all too common. A couple walk off the elevator and up to my desk.)

Woman: “Hi, where do we go for marriage licences?”

Me: “That’s up on the third floor, at the City Clerk’s desk.”

Man: “We know it’s on the third floor, where are we now?”

Me: “Well, what button did you press on the elevator?”

Man: “Two…?”

Me: “So… just up one more from here.”

Woman: “How do we get to the third floor?”

(As well as being directly across from the elevator they just left, which goes up to the fifth floor, my desk is actually situated under a large staircase leading to the third. Good luck to whoever had to walk these people through filling out forms.)

(I’m working with a supervisor who has shown, numerous times, that he cracks easily under pressure. While I’ve never seen him angry, he tends to run away from problems. Recently our buy-nine-get-the-tenth-coffee-free cards have been changed so your free drink has to be a small. If you want a medium, you have to pay the difference, which is 40 cents. Management has been very strict about making sure customers pay the difference. A woman who has harassed and shouted at every employee walks in with her card.)

Customer: “I want my medium coffee, now.”

Me: “All right, that’ll be 40 cents.”

Customer: “No, it’s free.”

Me: “Yes, as I told you last time, they’ve changed the cards so you get a small free instead of a medium. You need to pay the difference.”

Customer: “No, I don’t.”

(My supervisor sees this and instead of helping, sorts random stuff just within earshot.)

Me: “Ma’am, I was instructed by the owners that the cards will only be accepted for a small coffee. I can’t do anything for you.”

Customer: “I’m not leaving here without my free medium coffee.”

Me: “Hey, [Supervisor], could you talk to this customer for me?”

Supervisor: “Just give her the coffee.”

Me: *stupidly deciding that disobeying my supervisor is better than disobeying the owners, who are very strict* “The owners have told us all that we’re not supposed to give away free mediums anymore. I’m not going to run her card as a medium.”

(The supervisor then walks up to me, pulls a dollar from his pocket and slams it on the counter.)

Supervisor: “HERE’S YOUR F****** DOLLAR!”

Me: *stunned silence*

(Every customer in the store just stood there. I continued to serve customers and I left the dollar on the counter. The woman paid the 40 cents. I left at the end of the summer and was very happy to never go back. The store went through several owners over the next few years and I met my old supervisor while shopping a while back. He’s working at a grocery store now, and he’s thankfully not in a position of authority anymore.)

(I’m cashing out a customer.)

Me: “Debit, credit, or cash?”

Customer: “Here is my card.” *puts it on the table*

Me: “Okay, you can just insert, swipe, or tap whenever you’re ready.”

Customer: “No, I just sign something.”

Me: “You sign the receipt, but you have to insert, swipe, or tap it first.”

Customer: “No! I just sign something!”

Me: “Okay, so, in order for you to sign the receipt, you have to insert your card.”

(The customer continues to refuse, and there is a line growing, so I swipe his card, it goes through, and the receipt prints. I normally don’t like to swipe a customer’s card, because I tapped a customer’s card once and they freaked out, because they didn’t know they had tap and thought I knew their pin.)

Customer: “There! That I sign!”

(Telemarketers seem to be running rampant and keep calling me at ridiculous hours. My parents tell me to hang up the phone immediately. I get a phone call at 7:30 am, and luckily I am up for school.)

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “I’m looking for [Name].”

Me: “Sorry, there is no [Name] here.”

Caller: “No [Name]?”

Me: “Yeah, sorry. Good luck!”

(I hung up and didn’t think much of it, until around lunch when I saw I had a voicemail. It was a job offer that I had been waiting to hear back from. They said in the message that they accidentally misread my name, but still wanted me. I am so glad I was polite!)