(During the holiday season, I naturally say, “Happy holidays,” as I am not religious. It isn’t a political thing; I just find it inclusive so I don’t have to guess their religion and risk discrimination, and I personally like it when people say, “Happy holidays.” However, in customer service, this means I’m personally starting a war on Christmas. I have just finished piercing someone’s ears with a special Christmas tree earring we have for the holiday season.)

Me: “All right, go home and take care of your ears! They’re like open wounds, so you have to clean them. Happy holidays!”

Girl: “Thanks!”

Mother: “How dare you?! You just pierced her ears with Christmas trees, and you have the gall to say, ‘Happy holidays’? You know what we celebrate!”

Me: “It’s just an inclusive phrase, ma’am. I don’t like to assume anything. Merry Christmas.”

Mother: “I’ll have you fired, you Satanist.”

(I am not fired, nor does she complain to any manager or supervisor. In the same job, within the same week, I pierce the ears of a girl who really likes “Frozen.” We happen to have Elsa earrings on sale for a holiday price, so she gets those.)

Me: “Thanks, and happy holidays!”

Mother: “You just pierced her with Frozen earrings, so you must know we are Christian and celebrate Christmas!”

Me: “What?”

Mother: “Elsa is Christian! It’s a Christmas movie!”

Me: “Uh, what part about the movie makes you think it has anything to do with religion? She’s an ice princess in a cold climate.”

Mother: *begins, then realizes she can’t come up with anything* “Okay. Happy Hanukkah.”

Me: “…?”

Related:
Unhappy Holidays, Part 7
Unhappy Holidays, Part 6
Unhappy Holidays, Part 5

(I’m working in the checkout at an entertainment store when a guy who is dressed in the “emo” style comes up to me.)

Customer: “This music is s***; you should get some MCR [My Chemical Romance] on!”

Me: “Sorry, we don’t decide the music. Also, MCR broke up last year, so they aren’t relevant enough for head office to choose them.”

Customer: “That’s f***** up. They wouldn’t know music if it hit them over the head!”

Me: “I suppose. But still, we can’t change it.”

Customer: “So, what music do you like?”

Me: “All sorts.”

Customer: “MCR?”

Me: “Once. I used to dress a lot like you, actually, only I had snake-bites instead of the one lip piercing.”

Customer: *eyes narrowing* “Once? What happened?”

Me: “I grew up.”

Customer: *scoffs* “You weren’t a real fan, then!”

(At this, I walk around the counter and lift up my trouser leg, revealing a large tattoo dedicated to MCR’s album “The Black Parade.” He stares at it, mouth agape.)

Me: “You were saying?”

(The guy blushed and ran out of the store. He had something in his hand, too, which he threw behind him as the alarm went off. Just because I’m not a fan now, it doesn’t mean I wasn’t at one point. Sadly, we get a lot of people like him, thinking they can openly pass judgment based on music tastes. I didn’t even think emo was a thing anymore until I saw him.)

My mother related this story to me. It happened during the early days of video players, when the cost was quite high. A customer buys a VCR, explaining to the sales assistant that it’s a gift for someone. Less than fifteen minutes later he returns to the store, explaining that he got to the car only to find his companion had bought the same thing from another store in the mall.

The carton is unopened, so the sales assistant gives him his money back and leaves the VCR at the counter to return to stock later on. Less than ten minutes later, another customer sees it and buys it.

An hour later, that customer is back to complain that there is no VCR in the box; it has been replaced with a brick. When they examine the box they find that the tape on the bottom of the carton has been cut and the box has been re-taped over the top with identical packaging tape.

(I am the assistant manager of an electronics store; I am also a mobile specialist. A young woman, [Customer #1], comes in; she is wearing pajama pants and is clearly unwashed. She goes up to my colleague with some old headphones, claiming she had taken the extended warranty and that she wants a replacement. The woman doesn’t seem to know any of her information, making it difficult for my colleague to find the warranty and provide the proper replacement. The entire time she is there, she talks loudly, complains, and questions my colleague’s intelligence. She is very unpleasant overall. While she is there, a regular customer, [Customer #2], comes in. He is an older gentleman, in his 80s, but is very tech savvy.)

Me: “Hey, [Customer #2]! How are you doing today?”

Customer #2: “Oh, I can’t complain, except I might have done something stupid.”

Me: “And what might that be?”

Customer #2: “Well, I was playing around with my phone, and I managed to delete and remove the icon for my photo gallery, and now I can’t find my photos. I’ve done what I know to do, but now I’m stuck.”

Me: “Well, let’s have a look.”

(He already has the phone open to his widgets, so I go through the rest of his phone, checking every place imaginable for his photos. I’ve never seen this problem before, so I turn to my colleague, who is now finishing up with the loud woman. I explain the issue briefly and ask if there is something I might be missing. The entire time I am with [Customer #2], [Customer #1] is staring at me, smiling, and shaking her head. I can tell she wants to say something. She finally speaks.)

Customer #1: *speaking to [Customer #2] in a condescending tone* “Excuse me, sir. May I please see your phone?”

(He hesitantly hands her the phone. She grabs it from him and looks at me with a huge smile.)

Customer #1: *to me* “Sometimes you just need a professional.” *to [Customer #2]* “See, your photos are in your photo album. You just have to open your widgets and…”

(She sees that the icon for the album is missing, and she practically throws the phone at me.)

Customer #1: “Oh, well, they should be there, in the widgets.”

Me: “Yes, well, thank you for your help, but that was the first thing I checked. It’s kind of how we are trained.”

Customer #1: “Wow, okay. Wow, that was rude. Was that necessary? So rude. Oh, my God. Where is your manager?”

Customer #2: “You want a manager because you embarrassed yourself? You don’t need a manager; you need to shut your mouth and mind your own business.”

([Customer #1] just stares for a moment, and then storms out of the store. As she walks out, she turns to swear at me a few times. She ends up making a complaint to my boss, but nothing comes of it. I am next to my boss when she takes the call; while she does apologize, she laughs as soon as she hangs up the phone.)

Boss: “She claims to be a nurse. I find it unlikely, by her age and how she talks, but if she is a nurse, I’d love to go up to her when she’s having trouble doing a blood test and offer to help by telling her all she needs to do is find a vein. What a dunce. This is an electronics store, for God’s sake. What was she thinking?”

(I am signing a customer up for a contract phone. I am taking his address.)

Me: “Postcode?”

Customer: *gives postcode*

Me: “Okay, which address?” *shows screen*

Customer: *points*

Me: “Okay, so now we’ll need to do a—“

Customer: “Hold on, that address is wrong. It should have ‘Gritain’ on the bottom.”

Me: “‘Gritain’? As in Great Britain?”

Customer: “No, ‘Gay Britain.’”

(I want to laugh, but his expression is very serious.)

Me: “Uh, it isn’t an option.”

Customer: “Then write it in ‘other’!”

Me: “Sorry, but could I please ask why?”

Customer: “Because if you don’t, you’ll assume I’m straight, and I’m not. That’s oppression.”

Me: “We don’t need to know, or even assume, your sexuality for the contract. It has nothing to do with it. We don’t even ask for sex or gender.”

Customer: “So you’ll assume I’m straight!”

Me: “We won’t assume anything!”

Customer: “Yes, you will. Now, CHANGE IT!”

(I manually changed his address to include “Gritain” and continued the rest of the purchase with awkward tension. He opted for paper billing, much to our grief, as every month he comes in to complain about “Gritain” being excluded from his address, and accusing us of discrimination, despite the fact we have nothing to with billing, and the change was made by them. He has no problem with the service, though, just the exclusion of that word on a bill he receives every month.)