(I work at a tourist information centre. Pendle Hill is, strangely enough, a very large hill in Pendle; it can be seen from miles around and is impossible to miss.)

Me: “Hello, [tourist information]. My name is [My Name]; how can I help you?”

Customer: *on phone* “Hi, I’m just ringing to see if you know the postcode for Pendle Hill; I want it for my satnav.”

Me: “Well, the hill itself doesn’t have a postcode, but I can give you the postcode for the village at the bottom of the hill, which is [postcode].”

Customer: “Are you sure you don’t know the postcode of the hill? I’m worried that I won’t find it from there.”

Me: “It’s a hill, so it doesn’t have its own postcode. The village is right at the bottom; it’s impossible to miss from there. I really do think you’ll find it.”

Customer: “Can you give me the postcode for any of the attractions around the hill, just in case?”

Me: “Not really, since it’s just the hill, on its own; like I said, there’s a village at the bottom, there are a pub and a couple of shops, but that’s it.”

Customer: “So, Pendle Hill is just a hill? I thought it was like, a tourist attraction or something.”

Me: “Well, yes, it is a tourist attraction, but the idea is to walk up the hill; there’s a very good view from the top, but there isn’t much else to do there.”

Customer: “Oh, I thought there was more to it than that. Are you sure it doesn’t have its own postcode?”

(Usually, my best friend is a brilliant customer. She’s worked for years in many different aspects of customer service and knows how to be an awesome customer. The other day, however…)

Barista: “Hi! How can I help?”

Friend: “Hi! I’d like a medium extra hot, please.”

(Pause.)

Barista: *patiently* “An extra hot, what?” 

Friend: *now confused* “A medium, extra hot… please?”

(Pause. The barista and I look at her, willing her to finish the sentence.)

Friend: *completely confused* “What?!”

Me: “She’d like a medium hot chocolate, extra hot, please. She likes it to be like lava.”

(The barista laughs and my friend finally gets it.)

Friend: “I never mentioned what drink, did I? Sorry! I’m an idiot.”

(My customer admits to setting up a new account for his services at his neighbour’s property to trick us into thinking he is a new customer to get a different deal, and now he wants the service moved to his actual property where he has service with us.)

Me: “So, sir, let me get this right. As you have explained to me now, on a recorded call, that you created a new account next door to get a better deal — which in itself is a breach in your terms and conditions — and now you want me to move it to where you currently have active services?”

Customer: “Yes, but it’s not a breach in anything; I was securing a deal.”

Me: “You set up an order for yourself at your neighbour’s, so our system would think you were a new customer and wouldn’t prompt us to think otherwise, and now you want to move that to where you have services with us.”

Customer: “Well, yes.”

Me: “Okay, but I’m sorry, sir, I can’t allow this following the correct procedure. I will have to cancel your new order and manage your current active services correctly.”

Customer: “But then I can’t have the deal I want; that’s why I’ve done this.”

Me: “I know, sir, I’m sorry.”

Customer: “Well, I want compensation.”

Me: “For what?”

Customer: “For my time and effort.”

Me: “You want me to give you compensation for your effort in fraudulently setting up an account in an attempt to play the system?”

Customer: “You wasted my time!”

Me: “I’m not giving you compensation.”

Customer: “I want to speak to your manager.”

Me: “I’ll save you the effort; they are not giving you compensation, either.”

Customer: “I’m reporting you; give me your name.”

Me: “Okay, and that’s your account cancelled. Again, my name is [My Name].”

(I’m 19 and this is my first job in a bar. I’m competent and friendly but I struggle sometimes with complicated drinks or orders, meaning I go a little slower. This customer in question has been making nasty comments about me all evening, refusing to let anyone else serve him, and demanding complicated cocktails whilst berating my speed.)

Customer: “Given the last screw up, just get me a f****** Guinness.”

Me: “Sure.” *starts pouring*

Customer: *smirking* “If there’s no clover, you’ll be wearing it! It’s a lucky clover for a lucky guy!”

Me: “Let’s see what I can do.”

(I hand over his drink; cue spluttering and outrage.)

Customer: “How dare you?! I’ll have your f****** job! Don’t you know who I am?!”

Me: “Well, yes, that’s why I drew you a [man’s private region], as you said lucky clover for a lucky guy, or a d**k for a d**k-head.”

(My coworkers and the rest of those at the bar laughed so hard, the customer turned bright red and stormed off. He didn’t pay for his Guinness, but on a positive note, he never came back when I was on shift, either! And no, I wasn’t fired; my boss laughed and gave me a Guinness pint glass as a memento. It’s been eleven years and I still have it.)

(I am standing at a register. I have seen a woman wandering the aisles aimlessly and occasionally glancing in my direction.)

Me: “Do you need any help?”

Customer: “Yes, thank you. Do you have any bags of ice?”

Me: “Yes. If you head towards menswear straight down there, it’s the aisle just before.”

(She stares at me.)

Me: “Was there anything else?”

Customer: “Do I look like a man to you?”

Me: “No?”

Customer: “Then why would you tell me to go to your men’s section?”

Me: “Because the ice is in the aisle next to it. You did want ice?”

Customer: “Yes, I did. But I didn’t expect to be accused of being a man at the same time!”

(She threw her basket at me which, despite my attempts to avoid it, hit me on the head. She ran from the building. Unfortunately, she left her handbag in the basket, and police were called regarding the incident. The woman was forced to apologise or risk being arrested, and the store manager banned her.)