I have lots of stories from when I worked for an airline, but this one actually happened before then.

My daughter was fifteen in the late 1990s. She was very into playing soccer, and she was pretty good. So, one summer, she wanted to go to soccer camp in Florida, which was about 1,000 miles away. The price wasn’t bad for the week-long camp, and the airfare to get her there was pretty reasonable, so we paid for the camp and the airfare, and we arranged for the camp to pick her up and transport her from the Florida airport to the camp.

We took [Daughter] to the airport and checked her in at the desk. The agent saw that she was just fifteen and asked if we would like an airline worker to meet her in Philadelphia (where she had to change planes) and make sure she got to the correct gate. After asking [Daughter], we agreed this was a great idea. We took her to the gate (you could still do that back then), waved goodbye, and headed home.

Several hours later, we got a phone call from [Daughter].

Daughter: “I’m in Florida, but there was a mix-up in Philadelphia, so I got here two hours late and missed my transportation to [Camp].”

We panicked and called the camp and the airline — their fault this happened — and tried to figure out what else we could do.

Finally, [Daughter] called again.

Daughter: “I found a cab to take me to [Camp], and I have just enough money with me to pay for it, but I’ll need more money for the rest of the week.”

Us: “Okay. Take the cab, and we’ll send you some more money by [Shipping Company].”

She made it to the camp okay and had a good time.

Now for the fun airline part. As soon as [Daughter] called us from the airport, I got on the phone with the airline to complain. [Daughter] told us that no one met her in Philly, but she found her own way to the gate anyway. She heard her flight called and went to board, but the gate agent told her that it wasn’t her flight and her next flight was the next one. She took the agent’s word and went and sat back down to wait.

After a couple of hours, another flight was called. [Daughter] went to the gate and was allowed on. After boarding, it was announced that the plane was going to Puerto Rico — no mention of Florida. She asked a flight attendant, who confirmed that they weren’t going to Florida, so [Daughter] got back off the plane. She managed to get a new flight, but it was a couple of hours later, of course. That’s why she was so late to get her transport.

On the phone, I started loudly complaining about what had happened, and I asked the airline to refund everything. They absolutely refused, despite numerous phone calls and escalations. (These days, I probably would have sued, but I wasn’t the type to threaten that back then.)

In frustration, I finally asked for something that seemed very reasonable. On [Daughter]’s return trip, she was due to change planes at NYC’s LaGuardia airport. I asked if it was possible for her to get off and have her luggage taken off, as well, and we would pick her up there instead of her original destination. They said she could get off at LaGuardia, but her luggage would continue on. I spent more time trying to get them to change their mind, and I sent a lot of complaint letters, but nothing was ever done for us.

Fortunately, [Daughter]’s return went smoothly, and she had no trouble changing planes this time. When we met her flight, we were all relieved.

Lesson learned, though, about letting even fifteen-year-olds fly alone.

I’m working as an assistant manager in a shop in the weeks following Christmas. We have a display of boxed chocolates and other sweet gifts. There’s an older lady perusing this selection as I’m tidying shelves, checking stock levels etc., when I hear a loud, very posh voice.

Customer: “Excuse me, you there!”

Me: “Can I help you, madam?”

Customer: “Yes, I’m looking for a box of chocolates.”

Me: “Anything in particular?”

Customer: “Well, just something to replace these.”

She has with her, in her hand, a box of chocolates that we sold, that much I can see.

Me: “I’ll be happy to help you find a replacement.”

I know these chocolates aren’t exclusive to us and could be found elsewhere locally, so I ask:

Me: “Do you have a receipt?”

Customer: *Haughtily.* “Oh no, I didn’t buy them, they were a gift! My grandchildren told me they bought them here.”

I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. She’s acting a bit superior but I am determined to be professional and polite.

Me: “May I just ask, what’s the problem with the chocolates you are returning?”

Customer: “Oh there’s nothing wrong with them, I just don’t like them!”

Me: “I’m sorry, could I just see which ones they are?”

She holds the box out, and I can now see that they have been opened, with the seal broken and the inner packaging loose.

Me: “I’m sorry, madam, this box has been opened, I can’t accept a return if the product isn’t faulty.”

Customer: “Well of course it’s open, I had to try them! That’s how I know I don’t like them!”

Me: “But there’s nothing actually wrong with them? They’re not mouldy or contaminated?”

Customer: “No, I just don’t like them!”

Her condescending tone is starting to get to me.

Me: “I’m sorry, madam, I won’t be able to accept these for return as the product was in good condition when we sold them, and they’ve been opened since.

Customer: “”This is atrocious! How am I supposed to know if I like something if I can’t open it!? I will not be shopping here again!” *Storms out.*

This might have carried some weight if she had actually ever deigned to shop here in the first place.

True to her word, we never saw her again.

Related:
Some People Have Never Been Told “No” And It Shows, Part 9
Some People Have Never Been Told “No” And It Shows, Part 8
Some People Have Never Been Told “No” And It Shows, Part 7
Some People Have Never Been Told “No” And It Shows, Part 6
Some People Have Never Been Told “No” And It Shows, Part 5

Earlier this year, I discovered an aggregating service for single trading cards. Unlike [Other Popular Site], this one would let you make one large purchase, they would have the sellers send the cards you ordered to their warehouse, and then you paid for shipping at the time that you asked the cards to be sent to you. Part of what made me want to sign up with [Service] was that if you requested $25 or more worth of cards sold through their [Special Program] to be sent to you at the same time, you could get free shipping. Since they came from third-party sellers worldwide, it could take a while for the cards to arrive, so waiting until your stash built up was worthwhile.

After my first successful purchase and shipment, I reviewed [Service] on a review site, saying that potential customers shouldn’t be scared off by the reviewers who complained that they had to pay for shipping because you could get your shipping free if you followed instructions.

Excited as I was to continue using them, I put off making another order until my financial situation stabilized enough to spend the money — about six months or so. When I finally put together a second order, I noticed that there was no way to get free shipping. I contacted customer service via email.

Representative: “That was just a summer promotion to draw in customers from the USA. We had banners all over the site for months.”

I pointed out that it would’ve been nice to hear about the promotion coming to an end via email blast for those who hadn’t visited the site in a while, and I thanked the representative for explaining.

Before I placed my order, however, I went back to [Review Site] to update my experience:

Review Update: “I have no problem paying for shipping this time, but this will be my last order with [Service].”

Cue a barrage of emails from [Service] saying how unfair I was for “picking on [them] because [they] couldn’t keep a promotion going that made [them] lose money,” that they were just a “small Italian company” that couldn’t afford to offer free shipping long-term, and so forth. At no point did I deviate from my refrain of, “That’s okay. I understand. I’m perfectly willing to pay for the shipping,” but they kept pelting me with emails — several over the course of an hour or two — repeating their sob story.

Finally, I broke down and wrote back.

Me: “This is starting to feel like harassment. As far as I’m concerned, we’re down to one of two options: either leave me alone and I’ll pay for my shipping and we can end our business relationship there, or you can refund me [amount I paid for the cards I have waiting] and I’ll delete my account on your site. But I’m not changing my review.”

They stopped pestering me — which I’m grateful for — but they also didn’t tell me their choice. After they’d been quiet for a few days, I tried to log in to finally pay for my shipping and discovered that I’d been banned.

But at least I got my refund!

A few days before Christmas, a man comes into the store where I am working as a returns clerk. He has several hundred dollars worth of Christmas decorations.

Customer: “I bought these decorations in late October, and I’d like to return them so I can buy them back at your clearance price.”

Me: “I can process this return for you, but I can’t sell them back to you at the clearance price.”

Customer: “Are you serious?! Do you have any idea how much I spend in your store on a monthly basis?! Call your manager now!”

My store manager is a terrible person and mostly can’t be counted on to back up the staff. But this time, the customer pisses him off.

Manager: “Sir, the trade-off to shopping for Christmas décor early is that you get a wide selection but you pay full price. If you wait for clearance, you get whatever pickings are left but you pay the sale price. You cannot, however, have it both ways.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous! Why can’t you just sell them back to me?! Just do it or I’ll call corporate!”

We know corporate would force us to do the return AND the re-sale, so when he makes that threat, we tell him we’ll do the return. I process the return and hand each item to my store manager, who loads everything in a cart. The whole time, the customer keeps making smug remarks about getting his way.

Finally, the return is done, and my store manager starts to wheel the cart away toward the stock room and unloading dock.

Customer: “Hey, I’m going to buy that stuff! Where are you going?!”

Manager: “Oh! Store policy, sir, is that seasonal returns have to be processed by our inventory manager first before they can be restocked or resold. But you can come back tomorrow!”

This was mostly a lie, but we weren’t about to let this smug jerk have his way. The customer was so mad! He cussed us out and then left.

He did come back the next day, expecting to find all his stuff restocked in the clearance aisle. But his attitude had pissed [Manager] off so thoroughly that [Manager] had told our stocking crew to only put one of that man’s items out on the shelf per day, and if they forgot to do it at all, that was fine, too.

The customer came in a few times and ranted to us — especially me — about getting his stuff, but after a few days he stopped coming, and we eventually put all that stuff out on clearance again.

My mother once worked with a manager who didn’t take crap from any customer, and he outright refused to reward bad behavior. I had to meet my mother at her job one day just before closing time, and I got to witness one of “those” encounters. I just caught the tail end, but it ended with the manager telling the idiotic, irate customer, to whom he refused to issue a refund for something they purchased several months before:

Manager: “You are not getting a refund, and I will not be giving into your nonsense. So, you have two choices here. Turn around and leave on your own, and learn to behave yourself, or I will call the police and have you trespassed from this store. Your choice.”

The customer finally acquiesced and left once the manager started dialing the police. My mom said she never saw the customer again after that in the subsequent twenty years she worked there.

I wish there were more managers like that.