(A customer comes in and approaches my coworker’s register.)

Customer: “I have this coupon.”

Coworker: “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am, but that coupon’s expired and no longer in our system. I can offer you this other coupon, instead.”

Customer: “Fine, whatever. Oh, and my son came in and dropped off clothes the other day. He already picked them up but forgot to bring the coupon, can I use it for them now?”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we are only able to accept coupons at drop-off, so I can only use it for your items today.”

Customer: “So, you don’t honor your coupons?!”

Coworker: “No, ma’am, as I explained, we do honor our coupons but we can only accept them at drop-off, as that’s when you pay. We can’t accept them at pickup or after you’ve already left the store with your clothes.”

Customer: “Whatever.”

(The customer paid for her current order and then stormed out in a huff. Two minutes later, she called the store to speak to a manager and once again argued that we should take her coupon for the order from two days ago that had already been picked up, and then hung up when my manager gave her the same answer my coworker did.)

(I started working as a personal assistant to the elderly in August. Since then, I have begun receiving calls for final expenses. I have no clue how they got my number, but whatever. Usually, I just hang up, but this time I want to try and get on the do-not-call list and press a number to speak with a rep.)

Rep: “Hello, thank you for holding. How may I help you?”

Me: “Hey there. This phone belongs to a 35-year-old. I do not need final expenses. Can you please remove my number from your database?”

Rep: “Oh, I see.”

Me: “…”

Rep: “…”

Me: “So, can you please remove my number?”

Rep: “Are you sure you’re 35?”

Me: *confused pause* “Am I sure I’m 35?”

Rep: “Yes.”

Me: “Yes. Yes, I am. Stop calling.”

(A woman came in yesterday telling us that she had a tree that died that she wanted to return. Our head cashier and acting manager said that we would accept a return and give her 50% back so long as she had the receipt and the tree, and that it was within one year of the purchase, because it’s our policy.

I am called to the register today because the lady has come in and is causing a scene, and the management in that day is different from yesterday’s.)

Manager: “[My Name], what did [Other Manager] say about this nice woman’s return?”

Me: “One year, 50% back if you have the tree and receipt. Why?”

(The customer has her daughter with her, who has named and taken care of the tree.)

Customer: “That is not what she said! She said I would get 100% back!”

Manager: “Ma’am, I’m sure she didn’t; she’s our head cashier and she’s been working here since I made our policy.”

(He points to the placard on the wall with said policy on it.)

Manager: “It’s even right here.”

Customer: “I know what she said! You guys are trying to rip me off.”

Manager: “Okay, give me a second.”

(He calls our head cashier — even though it’s her day off — and hands the phone to the woman, who only gets even more disgruntled and then turns to me.)

Me: “She may have said we’d take care of things 100%. She says things like that.”

Manager: “That’s true. Ma’am, how can we help you out with this?”

Customer: “Well, I want 100% back! I’ve been attacked since I walked up here!”

(She turns to her daughter who is staring intently at the ground.)

Customer: “Hasn’t he been attacking me?”

(The daughter shrugs and my manager, who has been amazingly calm the whole time, stands aghast and excuses himself. Another cashier takes over.)

Me: “Ma’am, would you at least like me to dispose of the dead tree for you?”

Customer: “No! I don’t know if I want to do business with you yet!”

My wife was in labor for about twenty hours before deciding to do a cesarean section. I am 6’8″ tall and about 300 pounds. During our visits through the pregnancy, I regularly joked around with the doctor. Even in the Lamaze classes, I would joke around, typically embarrassing my beautiful wife.

My oldest son was born via C-Section at 11:50 PM on March 31st. I was there, I watched, and I was exhausted. It was gruesome and awesome at the same time. 

I was extremely emotional —  had a son! I was crying tears of joy. 

After he was extracted from his nine-month sentence inside of my wife, he was swaddled appropriately by the nurses in the operating room. We were both then whisked away: him to the nursery to get de-munged, and me to see my large family — brothers, parents, 

Godparents, etc. — all of whom were at the hospital waiting in anticipation of the big event. 

So, there I was, telling my family that we had a beautiful boy, and that everyone was okay. I was blubbering as tears were still streaming.

All of a sudden, in an over-the-top manner, a nurse came running around the corner and said, “Mr. [My Name], Mr. [My Name]! They need you back in the operating room! The second one just came out!”

Huh, what? What? WHAT?! Oh, my God! I started running down the hall to go back to the operating room. I’ve never been considered graceful, and it really wasn’t pretty to see me lumbering down the hall.

I heard the nurse call out again, “MR. [MY NAME]!”

My response was dramatic and immediate as I spun to look at her. “WHAT?” I exclaimed. 

With a very calm demeanor and a twinkle in her eye, she said, very matter-of-factly, “April Fools.”

I could have been knocked over with a feather. I stammered and stammered. Meanwhile, my family, who witnessed the event, were in stitches enjoying the whole scene as it played out in front of them. 

In the operating room, my wife was laughing (while being stitched back together). All of this was the doctor’s idea, II suppose a little of my own medicine after enduring me throughout the pregnancy.  

It’s a story that I tell often, not only for the humor in it, but also because it was one of the greatest days of my life: the day I met a great person, my wonderful son.

(Customer service desk cashiers have to answer every incoming phone call to the store. It’s frustrating because we have a constant flow of customers that we have to still ring out or assist while on the phone with another customer.

On this particular day, our tech department is being run by two guys, both with customers, and a line ten-deep of customers waiting to be helped. There is absolutely no point in patching a call through to them at this point, so either I’ve been taking messages or people have decided to call back later. In-store customers always take precedence over people on the phone.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store] in [Town]. This is [My Name] speaking; how can I help you?”

Caller: “Can I speak to someone in the tech department?”

Me: “I’m sorry, they’re both tied up right now. May I take a message?”

Caller: “No, I’ll call back.”

(I never recommend this, as the tech department tends to be backed up with customers. Each customer takes several minutes to service even if it’s a simple task, some taking far longer, and they are still expected to somehow help customers shopping on the floor. The setup is pretty stupid, honestly.

About an hour later, my manager on duty is standing on the side of my L-shaped service desk looking at paperwork, about two feet away from me when the phone rings. I answer it, delivering my standard speech.

The same lady from the earlier phone call has called back; however, the tech department is still about ten people deep — different people, but still.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but they’re still very busy over there.”

(The lady starts screaming into the phone.)

Caller: “This is ridiculous! Every time I call here I get the same bulls*** about them being too busy to answer the phone! And then no one ever calls back! I am getting sick and tired of calling and calling and calling and never getting an answer!”

Me: “I’m sorry. They are doing their best to help the customers in the store; they can’t answer the phone while—”

Caller: “That’s the same old story! Why can’t they take the time to answer my call?! I’m a customer, too! I deserve help!”

(My manager glances up at this point, making a face like, “What the h*** is all that yelling about?” I reply to the caller calmly but firmly.)

Me: “You don’t need to scream at me, ma’am. I cannot force them to answer the phone, and as I have stated, they are servicing a long line of customers in the store as fast as they can.”

Caller: “I’M NOT SCREAMING!”

(After a bit of a pause, suddenly much quieter.)

Caller: “I’ll just come in after work.”

(She hangs up.)

Manager: “What the h*** was her problem? Doesn’t she know what busy means?”

(I could have gotten in a lot of trouble with the general manager for talking to a customer like that, but it took me a few years in retail to develop the attitude that I am not a child and I will not be treated like one by management, and I am not a punching bag for customers. The cashier is literally the last person you should yell at when you’re angry about something they have no control over.)