I have just clocked out for lunch. My uniform is off, but I guess I am still recognizable to some customers as I make my way across to the deli/salad station to get my lunch.
Customer: *Approaching me.* “Oh, you’re not doing anything.”
Me: “Can we keep it that way?”
Customer: “Oh. I… uh… suppose?”
Me: “Fantastic!” *Starts filling up my salad bowl while the customer freezes due to short-circuiting.*
CONTENT WARNING: Injury detail
I’m serving a woman at the customer service counter when she suddenly collapses, hits her head on the counter on the way down, and starts bleeding on the floor. My coworker immediately leaps to her assistance while I get on the phone to call 911.
As I’m doing this, an oblivious customer walks over, almost STEPS OVER the collapsed woman, and holds out a piece of fruit at me.
Customer: “Can I get a price check on this grapefruit?”
Me: *Trying to talk to the 911 operator.*
Customer: “Excuse me! I’m asking you for service!”
Me: “One moment, ma’am!” *Goes back to talking to 911.*
Customer: “I said I am asking you—”
Coworker: “—Ma’am! Look at me! Down here! Do you see what is happening?!”
The customer looks down to see my coworker on the floor, administering assistance to the downed woman.
Customer: “I don’t see how that has anything to do with me.”
Coworker: “Ma’am! Back the f*** up right now, or the ambulance is going to have to deal with two patients, and one of them is going to have a grapefruit rammed up someplace tight.”
Customer: *Gasps, but backs away.* “How rude!”
She wrote in to complain, and corporate just gave her a slightly more polite version of what my coworker said.
Customer: “How much is a footlong?”
Me: “It’s [total].”
Customer: “Hmm… if I only eat half, can I pay half?”
Me: “Sir, we do six-inch subs, too.”
Customer: “No, no, I want a footlong, but I only want to pay half.”
Me: “I can’t do that for you.”
Customer: “What if I ate half today, and half tomorrow?”
Me: “Would you come in tomorrow to pay for the other half?”
Customer: “Don’t be an idiot.”
Me: “I’m not the one being an idiot, sir.”
Customer: “You’re calling me an idiot?!”
Me: “Sir, you’re asking to pay half price for no reason.”
Customer: “It’s not stupid to ask for a discount. It’s called having a head for business!”
Me: “It is when it’s a national chain with prices controlled by corporate and the minimum-wage worker has zero control over said prices.”
Customer: “If you had a head for business, you wouldn’t be stuck in a minimum-wage job.
Me: “And if you had two heads, you’d be twice as stupid.”
There was some shouting after that, but I regret nothing.
Customer: “Will these curtains fit my windows?”
Me: “We do offer custom sizing for some curtains, but not that one, I’m afraid.”
Customer: “I didn’t ask you about custom sizing, I asked if these would fit my windows?”
Me: “What are the measurements?”
Customer: “Standard size.”
Me: “And what is the standard size?”
Customer: “Standard size living room windows!”
Me: “Sir, I don’t know the size of your living room windows?”
Customer: “Then get me a manager who does!”
I call my manager over and explain the problem.
Manager: “Sir, I think I understand why my associate couldn’t help you.”
Customer: “Because he’s an incompetent kid who needs to be fired?”
Manager: “…no. Sir, there is no ‘standard’ window size. You’d need to get measurements for your windows before we can offer you any options.”
Customer: “This is so stupid! If I’m the one giving you my money, why are you making me do all the work! You guys are supposed to know your stuff. Which one are you, lazy or stupid?”
Manager: “I’d ask the same of you, sir.”
Customer: “You can’t say that to a customer!”
Manager: “Sir, no offense, but you’re the one trying to get my associate fired because he didn’t want to play a game of ‘imaginary windows’.”
I’m called to the customer service desk to deal with a complaint.
Me: “Hello, ma’am, I’m the manager. I understand you have a complaint.”
Customer: “Yes, one of your cashiers is either drunk or [slur for disabled people]!”
Me: “Ma’am, please do not use that word.”
Customer: *Eye rolls.* “Fine, the ‘r-word’, then!”
Me: “Can you describe what you saw, please?”
Customer: “It’s that young man on the checkout counter in the books section! He keeps making weird movements and tapping the counter!”
She’s referring to an autistic member of staff who occasionally needs to stim.
Me: “He’s not drunk, ma’am, and we are aware of that behavior. It does not impede his ability to serve customers or complete his tasks. Thank you for your concern.”
Customer: “So you know!? This store is prestigious with prices to match! We shouldn’t have to deal with… [disabled slurs], when we shop here.”
Me: “Ma’am, that word.”
Customer: “Ugh! Fine, the lesser-brain-developed, or whatever the PC term is these days!”
Me: “Ma’am, if you’re so adamant that the store contains fewer people with lesser-developed brains, the exit is right there.”
Customer: “What… what did you just say to me?!”
Me: “Do I need to say it slower or use simpler words?”
Customer: “That’s it! I’ll be writing to your corporate offices about this!”
Me: “Please mention my name, the exact date, and time, and mention it’s the ground floor service desk. That way they can check the camera feed—” *Points at the camera.* “—so they can confirm your complaint matches with reality, which I’m sure it will.”
Cue the storming out. I really do hope she writes in. My friend in the main office who gets such complaints really knows how to say “F*** off” in the most beautiful corporate speak…
