(I try to apply a 15% discount to a $200 online order using a promo code emailed to me by the company, but their website isn’t accepting the code. I ring the helpline and the sales lady says she will apply the discount when my order goes through. This takes place the next day, and I get the same sales lady on the phone.)

Me: “Hi. I believe I spoke to you yesterday. I rang about the promo code that your website wasn’t accepting?”

Sales Lady: *super friendly, singsong voice* “Yes! I’ve applied the discount to your order. Thank yooouuu! That’s all for today?”

Me: “Umm, no. I just checked and I was charged the full amount.”

Sales Lady: *instantly gets defensive and blunt* “No, you weren’t. It was a $200 order, with a $15 postage fee, and your discount was $15.”

Me: “That’s not right; the discount should have been for 15%.”

Sales Lady: “Yes, and I took 15% off, which was $15.”

Me: “15% of $200 isn’t $15.”

Sales Lady: “Oh, that’s right. The promotion was for $15 off, not 15% off.”

Me: “No, I’m looking at the email right now. It’s 15% off… Part of the promo code is literally ‘15%.’”

Sales Lady: *suddenly very friendly again* “Oh, right. Yes, that should be $30! Sorry! This order has already been paid for now, so I can only credit your account for $15.”

Me: “Okay, great. Thanks.”

(I guess that’s one way to ensure repeat customers!)

(I start getting a bunch of calls from an unknown number. The first time, they leave no message. The second and third times, they leave a message saying they are from my mortgage company to talk to me about refinancing my home. I look up the number and just as I suspected, it is a scam. The fourth time they call, I answer.)

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “Hi, [My Name], I’m [Caller] from [Loan Company]. I’m calling in regards to your mortgage. We told you a while ago that we would contact you if there was a chance we could get you a better rate. Do you plan on moving anytime soon, or do you plan on staying in your one-family home?”

Me: “I plan on staying.”

Caller: “Oh. Well then, do you have time you talk about refinancing? The market’s doing really well right now and we can likely get you down to a lower interest rate and payment.”

Me: “Oh, really?”

Caller: “Yes. Based on your excellent payment history, we can bring it down to about five and a half if you were to refinance.”

Me: “Really?”

Caller: “Of course!”

Me: “I don’t believe you, because this is a scam.”

Caller: “No, ma’am, it’s not.”

Me: “Yes, it is, because if you were really looking at my mortgage, you’d see my interest rate is currently four percent.”

(I work for a pizzeria in a large city that sells pizza by the slice. When we put a new pizza under the heat lamps, we also put out a sign when it came out of the oven. If any slices have not sold after a certain amount of time, we switch the sign with one that says, “free,” and give them away instead of throwing them away. We have two slices of pepperoni for free and a few more choices that just came out of the oven. A customer walks in and sees the free sign.)

Customer: “Why does that sign say, ‘free’?”

Me: “That pizza was baked 45 minutes ago, so it is not as fresh as ones that just came out of the oven.”

Customer: “I’ll have that one.” *points to a slice with several types of meat*

Me: “That will be [price].”

Customer: “Why isn’t it free?”

Me: “It just came out of the oven five minutes ago; only the ones that have been sitting under the heat lamps for a long time are free.”

Customer: “I want that one for free.” *points to another fresh one*

Me: “Only those two slices of pepperoni are free; you have to pay for the rest.”

Customer: “Then I want both of those for free.”

(I end up giving him the pepperoni.)

Me: “Here you go.”

(I hand the customer their free pizza, they sit down, eat one and a half slices, and then bring the other half-eaten piece up to the counter.)

Customer: “This pizza was horrible. I want another slice for free.”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “It was all dried out. I want another for free.”

Me: “You ate most of it; it couldn’t have been that bad.”

Customer: “Fine, I will never spend any more money here again.”

Me: “So far, you haven’t spent any money here. Buy something or leave.”

(The customer then carried their plate to our front door, smeared the pizza all over the glass, and then threw the slice on the floor and stormed out. All that over free food.)

(I work at a large electronics retailer. We sell everything from video games to white goods.)

Me: *answering external phone call* “Thanks for calling [Store]. How may I direct your call?”

Customer: “Hey, do you sell books?”

Me: “Um, no?”

Customer: “Well, your website says you do.” 

Me: *taking a moment to think about what could possibly be on the website* “We have game guides and a book called Go Pro for Dummies? What books were you after?”

Customer: *hesitates and quietly responds* “It has the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy here.”

Me: “As in the eBook? Are you asking if we sell digital files in-store?”

(The customer paused again and then hung up. We don’t even sell eBooks on our website.)

(Today is my first shift at a fast food restaurant. I have processed a woman’s order and she has sat down to eat her meal. She takes one bit out of her fries and comes to the counter.)

Customer: “These fries are terrible. I need fresh and crisp.”

Me: “These are literally the first batch of fries we have cooked today. I can assure you that they are fresh and crisp.”

(She’s silent for a few seconds, like she thinks I’m talking in a different language.)

Customer: “FRESH and CRISP! Can you handle that?”

(Before I can speak, the manager comes over and tells me to take her fries to the deputy manager, and quietly tells me to ask for a “twelve.” I go to the back of the kitchen and speak to the deputy. He takes the fries, puts them on the counter, and has a quick conversation with me about my previous job. He shakes the fries and hands them back to me. Confused, I ask what he’s doing and he assures me that I can take them back to the front. I hand the fries back to the woman. She takes one and chews it, looking very satisfied.)

Customer: “See. That wasn’t hard, was it?”

(She returned to her seat, ate the rest of her meal, and left. I was left dumbfounded until the manager filled me in on what had happened. Apparently, we are close to an affluent area, and a lot of the customers are extremely entitled. Basically, they want you to worship the ground they walk on. I didn’t give her the respect she expected, so she decided to complain. The restaurant calls those customers “twelve.” They’re so far up their own a**es that they don’t realise they’re getting back exactly what they’ve complained about. I have only been working for a week, and the amount of twelves I’ve seen is astounding, and I have yet to encounter one that realises what is happening.)