Unfiltered Story #158295

, , | | Unfiltered | July 15, 2019

(Note: for this story I am doing surveys for a bank. It’s around 7pm on a Monday I also see the customer is in the same time zone as me.)
ME: “Hi this is *my name* calling from *bank* may I please speak with *male/female customer*
Customer: *male customer speaking* “may I ask what this is in regards too? We’re just about to sit down for family dinner”
ME: “it’s just a survey on customer satisfaction regarding your recent visit to the *bank branch name* if it’s a bad time I can…”*he cuts me off*
Customer: “whoa whoa whoa… on a Sunday?????
Me: “I apologize sir it’s a Monday where I’m calling from if it’s a bad time I can…” *he cuts me off again*
Customer:*angrily* “This is the lords day!!! There should be no work on Sunday!!!”
Me: “I do apologize sir like I said its Monday where I’m calling from and if it’s a bad time I can…” *he cuts me off again*
Customer: *still angrily* What pagan bank are you calling from again???”
Me: *bank name also realizing it can’t be Sunday anywhere in the world*
Customer: “And they have you work on a Sunday?!?!?!”
Me: *Getting upset* “Sir it’s a Monday.”
Customer: “Bull S***”
Me: “okay… have a good evening thanks for banking with us.” *hangs up, too manager* “I’m going home I’ve had enough stupid for one day.”

Manners Are Crumbling Quicker Than Cookies

, , , , | | Right | June 6, 2019

(A mother walks in with her eight- to ten-year-old son who is wearing a superhero-like mask over his eyes. The mother asks for some pizza and is looking at the pastries while her son stares at the cookies.)

Mother: *to son* “Which do you want to bring?”

Son: *jabbing finger into cookie display case* “That one, that one, that one, that.”

Mother: “Which?”

Son: *jabbing harder and bellowing at his mother now* “THAT ONE, THAT ONE, THAT ONE, AND THAT ONE!”

Mother: *fed up* “Okay, I’m not getting you anything.”

Son: *freaking out and still jabbing the glass with his finger* “NO! I WANT THAT ONE, THAT, THAT, AND THAT!”

Mother: “Which ones?”

Son: *just as loud and rude* “THAT ONE, THAT ONE, THAT ONE, AND THAT ONE!”

(As the mother is repeatedly asking her son which cookies he wants, I have been watching him through the glass behind the display case and already have his cookies. My eyes are completely bugging out of my head. This is by far one of the rudest children I’ve seen in a while. I meet the mother at the counter and her son has gone to the door where there are chimes to let us know when people come into the store. He is messing with them and making a lot of noise.)

Me: *to her son* “Honey—“

Mother: “Yeah, you tell him.”

Me: “Please, don’t do that.”

Son: “Why?”

Me: “Because it’s loud and annoying.”

Son: “Oh.” *stops and goes over to a baguette in a basket* “Hey, Mom, look!” *grabs the exposed part of the baguette*

Me: “Okay, I can’t sell that now because he touched it.”

(The mother and son are starting to leave.)

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t sell this because he touched it.”

Mother: *to son* “You touched it! Now I have to buy it!”

Son: “So, if we touch stuff, that means we get it for free?”

Mom: “No!”

Me: “I can’t sell it to anybody else because you touched it.”

Son: “Oh.”

Mother: “You’d better eat this since I had to buy it!”

(If I had done ANY of that when I was his age, my Nanna would never have taken me anywhere again. I would have been RUSHED out of the store and called by my middle name until I felt the fear of God. Parents aren’t willing to correct their own children, but of course, they’ll let a total stranger do it!)

Carting Them Out Of The Only Exit

, , , , | | Right | May 30, 2019

Customer: “Where are all your carts?”

Me: “They are right outside the door.”

(I walk the customer back the fifteen feet to a large line of carts parked directly outside the front entrance and grab one for him.)

Customer: “Ah. I came in the other entrance, so I didn’t see them.”

Me: “We only have one entrance.”

Use The Keyboard? How Quaint

, , , | | Right | May 17, 2019

(My friend’s mother owns a psychic shop, and he works there. They use his old laptop as the business computer, and it’s seen better days. I am there helping him fix it one day when a customer comes in.)

Customer: *to me* “You should talk to it!”

(I don’t realize he is talking to me as I don’t work there and have my back to him, so I ignore him.)

Customer: “Hey! Don’t ignore me!”

(I turn around, startled.)

Me: “Oh, hey. Sorry, man, didn’t know you were talking to me. I don’t work here.”

Customer: “You should talk to it!”

Me: “What?”

Customer: “The computer! Talk to it!”

Me: *pause* “Well, the microphone’s been broken for about a year n—“

Customer: “No, no, I don’t mean into a mic; just talk to the computer!”

Me: “I… Wha—“

Customer: “The good vibes from your voice resonate with the energy field of the computer and fix all of the problems it might be going through.”

(I had absolutely no idea what to say, so my friend stepped in and directed his attention away from me, and I sneaked off with the laptop to the back room. Later, when I was leaving, the customer was waiting outside for me and got excited when he saw me through the window. I pretended to be adjusting a speaker in the corner by the door, then went back to the back room. Never saw him again.)

A Picture Of Retail Hell

, , , , , | Right | April 8, 2019

(At my store, if a customer is placed on hold for sixty seconds, the phone starts ringing back to alert the front end that someone is still on hold. I happen to be walking by and hear the phone ringing back, so I make the colossally stupid decision to pick it up and see if I can assist the customer.)

Me: “I’m so sorry for the wait. Who were you holding for?”

Customer: “Jesus Christ! You people have had me on hold for ten minutes! I need help, and don’t transfer me back to that guy! He doesn’t know what he’s doing! Get me someone who knows what they’re g**d*** doing!”

(First, only women are on the front end today, and second, I can see she has been on hold for a whopping 93 seconds.)

Me: “I’m so sorry about that. I’ll help you personally right now, but there’s no need to swear at me.”

Customer: “I didn’t swear.”

Me: “All right, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

Customer: “Ugh! I ordered some things off a registry last week, and one of them isn’t going to come in time for the shower! I need you to print me 5×7 color photos of the items, and I’ll come by to grab them.”

Me: “I apologize for that, ma’am. I can definitely print you pictures, but our printers only do black and white, and they will only print one size.”

Customer: “What?! When I was there last week, the pictures were in color on the screen!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, the website is in color, but again, our printers only do black and white.”

Customer: “Ugh! Fine! It was a platter and a snow blower.”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, could I just have the email address you used to place the order?”

Customer: “What? Why? Why do you need my email?”

Me: “I’m going to pull up the order so I can see exactly which items you ordered.”

Customer: “I just told you! It was a platter and a snow blower!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, but we sell a lot of those items online, and I want to make sure I print the right pictures.”

Customer: “Ugh! Fine, it’s [email].” *said super fast, so I have to ask her to repeat it twice, pissing her off even further*

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I’m just going to put you on a brief hold so I can step to a computer and print that for you.”

Customer: “Fine. This is taking forever!”

(I put her back on hold and step literally 15 inches away to pull up her order, when I find that the computer is frozen. I pick back up to let her know I haven’t forgotten her and that I just have to run to another computer, of course leading to another bout of b****ing.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I do apologize, but I’m not able to find that email address in our system. I’ll just need your name.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous! This is the worst customer service I’ve ever had! I would never recommend anyone shop or register with you!”

Me: “I apologize, ma’am—“

Customer: “Stop apologizing! Just look up the order! My name is [Customer]!”

(The email address is misspelled in the system, which isn’t surprising if she said it as quickly and rudely when the order was originally placed as she is now.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I’ve got those pictures for you, and I’ll have them at the front desk for you when you come in.”

Customer: *sudden change* “Oh, thank you so much! What was your name? Thanks so much!”

(And that’s why I have resolved never to voluntarily pick up the phone anymore.)

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