May We Suggest The Child Protective Services Ride

, , | Right | March 2, 2009

(I am working at the bumper cars at an amusement park, where there is a height restriction. A guy comes up with his son who is clearly too short.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, your son is too short to ride on the bumper cars.”

Customer: “I just waited for two hours in line to go on the bumper cars, and you won’t let my son ride!?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but there are signs outside that show the height restrictions before you got in line.”

(The customer then proceeds to grab his son around the throat and lift him up by the neck and holds him up to the sign.)

Customer: “There! Now he’s tall enough!”

Me: “Get the h*** out of here!”

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Choose Your Battles

, , | Right | October 10, 2008

(Note: I’m about five-seven, one-hundred forty pounds and work at a video game store. My best friend is a foot taller, and about a hundred pounds heavier.)

Me: “Thank you for calling ***, can I help you?”

Customer: “Uh yeah, I bought this stupid hockey-game, and I wanna return it ’cause I don’t like it.”

Me: “Well, I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t simply return a game because you didn’t like it.”

Customer: “Uh… I mean, the game doesn’t work right.”

Me: “Sir, you just told me that you didn’t like the game, not that it was defective.”

Customer: *click*

(Thirty minutes later, I’ve just opened the store and my best friend stops by. The same customer storms in with a game.)

Customer: “Uh, yeah, I just called about thirty minutes ago, and some guy said I could get my money back because I didn’t like this game.”

Me: “Sir, the person you spoke to was me. I’ll tell you now, as I told you then, you can’t get a refund for a game if you don’t like it. Nor can you get an exchange.”

Customer: “Well, I’m just gonna have to come across the counter and kick your a**, you son of a b****!”

My Friend: “Hey, really quick, could I get your name and if you have any severe allergies to pain-killers?”

Customer: *to my friend* “Who the h*** are you, and what the h*** are you doing?!”

My Friend: “I’m his wrestling and sparring partner, and I’m calling you an ambulance.”

(The customer leaves, quickly. And yes, my best friend is also my wrestling and sparring partner, for the past 3 years.)

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Please Do Not Manhandle The Employees

, , , , | Right | October 6, 2008

(It’s very busy at the grocery store, so I hop on cash and take the first customer who walks by. Another customer in the lane behind me grabs my arm and wrenches me around so I am facing her.)

Customer: “Excuse me, did you just open that cash to serve that customer?”

Me: “Yes, it’s very busy right now.”

Customer: “Idiot! When you open a cash you take the first customer in the other line, not the last!”

(Keep in mind this customer has already unloaded her items in a different lane.)

Me: “I’m very sorry, ma’am… As you can see, it’s very busy right now and I just took the first customer I saw.”

Customer: “Well! That’s very poor customer service!”

(She grabs my arm and physically turns me around so I’m facing my original customer again. I continue with their order.)

Customer: “No! I’m not done!”

(She grabs my arm again and turns me around to face her.)

Customer: “What is your name?! I’m going to talk to your manager! Call him down here now!”

Me: “I’ll call the duty manager right away.”

Customer: “No! I want the STORE Manager! Call him down here now!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but he’s gone home for the evening.”

Customer: “Fine! I’m coming back here at 9:00 tomorrow morning, and I expect you to be here too so we can meet with your manager about your terrible customer service!”

Me: “Okay! You’ll be here at 9? How about we meet at the police station at 10, and we can meet with them about the bruises you just gave me?” *rolls up sleeve to show the red marks*

Customer: “I… uh…”

(She grabbed my arm one last time and turned me back to my cash. I finished her order and she rushed out of the store.)

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When Customers Attack

, , | Right | September 2, 2008

(A lady comes up to me with a cart.)

Lady: “Where’s the toilet paper that’s on sale?”

Me: “It should be in aisle 18.”

(We’re looking for the toilet paper when another man comes up and stands quietly nearby, clearly waiting for me to help him. The lady turns to the man and RAMS him with her cart.)

Lady: “Stay back, f***er! She’s helping me first!”

Man: “Excuse me? I was just waiting to ask where the cereal is–”

Lady: *rams cart into him again* “F*** OFF!”

(Surprisingly, the man did not retaliate and I waved him off to the appropriate aisle.)

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Ah, Fathers, Part 3

, , , | Right | August 3, 2008

(I worked at a store that cashes peoples personal cheques. A young, 17-ish boy approaches me.)

Me: “Hello, how can I help you?”

Customer: “I need to cash this cheque, please.” *hands over information*

Me: “Okay, everything looks good. Can I have the cheque, please?”

Customer: “Sure.”

(I scan the cheque through and an account pops up. It had been used before only two hours previous at another one of our stores not far from my location.)

Me: “Just give me a moment. I need to go to the back to verify your cheque, and I’ll be back with your money.”

Customer: “Okay.”

(I go to the back of the store and call the number on the cheque. An older gentleman who I believe to be the customer’s father answers the phone.)

Customer’s Father: “Hello?”

Me: “Hello, sir. I believe your son is here with a cheque that you gave him and that he is wanting it to be cashed. I just wanted to make sure this was correct as we have cashed one already today for the same amount.”

Customer’s Father: *calmly* “What’s your address?”

Me: “It’s [address].”

Customer’s Father: “I’ll be down there in a few minutes. I don’t live far… Just don’t let my son leave.”

(I head back to the front to talk to the young customer.)

Me: “Hey, sorry this is taking so long…”

Customer: *explodes* “WHATEVER! You’re taking forever! This is my dad’s g**d**n cheque and it’s good! Why are you taking so long?! He has lots of money and he gave this to me to cash so that I could have the money!” *rants*

(As he is ranting, a large man about the size of Vin Diesel comes in the store. The look on his face is sheer anger. He just stands there in the lobby as his son reams me out.)

Me: *to customer* “Why don’t you ask your father?”

Customer’s Father: “YOU LITTLE B*****D!”

(I have never seen a boy try to run so fast out the door in my life. He only makes it to the parking lot outside the store before his father nabs him. Let’s just say his buttocks learned the value of a dollar.)

 

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