(The following exchange happens to my coworker, but I am less than ten feet away and have no customers of my own, so I hear everything firsthand.)

Coworker: “Good morning. Can I help you?”

Customer: “Yes, I want you to explain something to me.” *pulls out bank statement* “You charged me an overdraft fee on my checking account, and I want it reversed. I’ve never had a zero balance. I’ve been close, but it’s never been zero.”

Coworker: “Let me take a look at this.”

Customer: “See here?” *points* “You charged me a $12.47 overdraft fee. It shouldn’t have happened. You transferred $500 out of my account on [date], when it should have been $400. I’m trying to balance my account, and I’m $100 short. You took my money, and I need it back.”

Coworker: “Well, first of all, the overdraft fee is $29.00, not $12.47. What you’re seeing here is an overdraft transfer. You are signed up for overdraft protection, so when your balance gets to zero, it pulls from your savings account. This is just taking $12.47 from your savings and putting it into your checking. We didn’t take any money from you.”

Customer: “Well, it shouldn’t have happened in the first place! What about the $100? Where did that go?”

Coworker: “Again, we didn’t take any money. The $500 was transferred from your checking to your savings, so it was always in one of your accounts.”

Customer: “But it was supposed to be $400, not $500! One of you screwed up!”

Coworker: “I can just transfer $100 back if you want. And… wait a minute… Let me look at this for a sec… This says the transfer was done online.”

Customer: “No, one of you did it.”

Coworker: “Ma’am, it shows right here. The transfer was done online through home banking. We don’t have any access to your account online, so there is no way we could have done anything.”

Me: *cutting in* “You should have received an email confirming the transfer. I know I get one every time I do a transfer online. And you can check your transaction history online, too.”

Customer: *realizing she made a mistake* “Oh… Maybe I did do that… Okay, yes, please transfer the $100 back into the account. Thanks. Bye.” *leaves*

Me: “And this is why we can’t do telephone transfers anymore…”

(For a few years, I’ve spent the holiday season working at a well-known bath and body store that is known for having products displayed without packaging. The idea is that everything is meant to look like a food market. In particular, our bars of soap are cut fresh to the customer’s desired weight and then wrapped up for them. A man walks in with two teenage daughters, goes straight for a wheel of soap, and takes a huge bite out of it.)

Male Customer: “What the f***? This tastes terrible!”

Me: “Sir, that’s soap. It’s not meant to be eaten.”

Male Customer: “Well, why would you have it displayed like this?! I thought it was cheese!”

Me: “So, if it were cheese in a store, you’d just walk up and take a bite out of it before having it cut and paid for?”

(I technically should be reprimanded, but the only people on the floor are me and a floor leader who is a take-no-s*** kind of woman. She makes him pay for the entire wheel of soap — about $90 — and leave. Two days later, a different customer comes in holding an empty container that our fresh face masks are sold in.)

Female Customer: “Hi, I need to return this. I, uh… had a bad reaction to it.”

Coworker: “I’d be happy to return that for you. We can give you a refund or exchange it for a product that is better suited for your skin. Could you tell me what happened?”

Female Customer: *very shyly* “It, uh… made me poop my pants.”

Coworker: “Ma’am, these are face masks. They are not edible.”

Female Customer: “Well, how was I supposed to know?! It says, ‘cupcake,’ on the label!”

(Believe it or not, I have dozens of variations on these two stories. Something about the holidays, mixed with the fact that our store is the size of a tuna can, really brings out the weirdos.)

(I’m at work, on the phone with a courier to determine the status of an international shipment.)

Me: “I’m calling about the status of a shipment.”

Courier: “Okay… okay… Tracking number?”

Me: *provides number*

Courier: “Okay… okay… okay… International shipment.”

Me: “Yes.” *thinking to myself that I called the international support number*

Courier: “Okay… okay… okay… It’s getting there by air… on a plane.”

Me: “That would be correct.”

(He kept saying, “Okay,” over and over again for another minute or two. At that point, I couldn’t take it anymore and just told him to forget it. I waited a minute, called back, and got someone who didn’t have to tell me that my air freight shipment is getting there by airplane.)

(I’m the idiot here. I ask a coworker for clarification about a note he’s written.)

Me: “See, right here by your signature, it says, ‘Xzziz.’ What’s all that about?”

Coworker: “That’s, ‘Extension 2212.’”

(I work at a store where we ask every guest if they would like to sign up for a store card to save 5% on their purchase. A customer comes up who appears to be around 40 years old.)

Me: “Hello. Would you like to save 5% on your purchase with a [Store] debit or credit card?”

Guest: “Sure.”

Me: “Great, it will just take a few minutes to apply. First, would you like the debit or credit option?”

Guest: *with very confused face* “Aren’t debit and credit cards the same thing?”

Me: “…”

(This happens all the time, where guests have no idea what the difference between a debit and credit card is. I then have to explain what the difference is between them, without asking them how they made it this far in life without knowing.)

Related:
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 81
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 80
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 79