I’m on the phones in the customer service office for a Premier League football club (soccer to the Americans). Most calls are about ticketing, memberships, or matchday logistics.

The phone rings:

Me: “Good afternoon, [Club Name] customer service, how can I help?” 

Customer: “Yeah, I want a refund for my season ticket!” 

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. Could you tell me what the issue is?”

Customer: “The issue? The issue is they keep losing! We haven’t won a home game in weeks!”

Me: “…Right. Unfortunately, we don’t offer refunds based on match results.”

Customer: “Well, I paid good money to see them win, not to watch them prance about and lose to bloody Tottenham!” 

Me: “Sir, when you bought your ticket, you paid for admission to the matches, not a guarantee of victory.”

Customer: “It’s false advertising!” 

Me: “We never advertised we’d win. If I could guarantee a win every time, I’d be sailing away on my private yacht.”

Customer: “Well, you still need to do something! Season tickets are expensive!” 

Me: “Tell you what, we’ll bring the price of the ticket down, but we’ll charge you every time we win.”

Customer: *Click.*

I’m working at the desk at a climbing gym. A mother comes over with two boys (one her son) and starts talking to me in an admonishing tone.

Customer: “Hi, yeah, I need to speak to someone about the wall.”

Me: “Sure! Is there a problem?” 

Customer: “My son couldn’t get to the top of the advanced wall. I want to know why you let kids on it if they can’t finish it.”

Me: “Well, it’s an advanced route. Most adults can’t finish it either.”

Customer: “Then what’s the point of it? He was embarrassed in front of his friend! You should’ve warned us.”

Customer’s Son: “Mooom! The only embarrassing thing here is you!”

Customer: *To her son.* “Be quiet. I paid for you to climb the wall, and I expect to get what I paid for!” *To me.* “So, what are you going to do about this?”

Me: “Was he unsafe?”

Customer: “No! But he couldn’t win.”

Me: “Ah. Well, the wall’s not there to be won. It’s there to be earned.”

Customer: *Blinks at me.* “Ugh, I should have known this place was full of fortune-cookie liberal nonsense!”

She then huffed out, the two boys sadly trailing behind her.

I used to coach gymnastics for what were largely upper-middle-class and above clients. A particular housewife loves to find ways to talk about how much money her husband makes in several conversations with me and others.

Client: “My husband wants to know why we were charged thirteen times for the monthly tuition fees last year.”

Me: “We charge every four weeks, not every month.”

Client: “Every four weeks is a month!”

Me: “Not a calendar month. In the contract you signed it’s written clearly that it’s every four weeks.”

A couple days later her husband comes in and starts demanding an explanation.

Client’s Husband: “Why was I grossly overcharged last year?! I am not satisfied with the explanation you gave my wife!”

Me: “As I explained, we charge every four weeks, not every calendar month. That means—”

Client’s Husband: “—Listen, honey. I am the top salesman for a multi-million dollar company. I don’t need a little girl who teaches kids to do somersaults to be explaining what a calendar month is to me.”

Me: “Then I’ll break it down. There are fifty-two weeks in a year, and fifty-two divided by four is thirteen.”

He’s still glaring at me, but his silence indicates he still isn’t quite getting it. I pull out a calendar and count it out to him. He gets huffy and walks out.

That was about four years ago, and they still bring their kids as far as I know.

A coworker is working the kitchen at our food stand in a sports stadium. A kind of drunk customer is making an order when my coworker is getting ready to go on her break and another coworker is about to take over the deep fryer.

The customer is telling the cashier what he wants, but then he notices the staff change. The outgoing coworker is Black, and the incoming one is white, as is the customer.

Customer: “Oh, no, no, no, no. I want that [n-word] there to cook my food; at least they know how to run a deep fryer.”

Security had to come and get the guy. My coworker was so upset about what happened that she almost didn’t come back from break. They had to calm her down.

I work on and off at an American football stadium in a concession stand. Well, kinda. Technically, I’m a volunteer for a non-profit organization that I was a part of, and while I’m a volunteer and thus not paid, the organization gets a cut (for us, 10%) of any sales I make. With how inflated prices are at stadiums, and with how many people we can serve in any given game, you can see why we do it.

In American football, our biggest lines at the stand occur right before the game and during halftime. Everyone who’s ever been to a game knows this. Most customers are fairly nice and understanding about this, even when their team is losing. However, every season, I get one customer who isn’t.

Customer: “You’re too f****** slow! Get me a f****** [food item] and a beer, and be quick about it!”

Now, since the non-profit I represent gets money, you’d think I’d sigh and just do it. Nah. I’m a volunteer, I don’t get not-paid to handle this. I can deal with grumpy, but swearing at me or my fellow cashiers gets met with something like this:

Me: “Sir, your money’s no good here. Please go to a different stand.”

Customer: “What do you mean? I’ve been waiting in this f****** line for fifteen minutes—”

Me: “And now you get to wait in another one. Better hurry; you’ll miss more of the game.”

Customer: “I’m going to get you fired for this!”

Me: “NEXT!”

And the next customer, who has been patiently waiting in the same line, invariably comes up and starts ordering, and the rude guy invariably shuffles off because the police hangout is immediately across the concourse.

Still haven’t been asked to not come back, strangely.