(I am taking my young daughter for some after-school shopping, and she has just been telling me about her day at school where they have been learning about personal safety, including not telling complete strangers their names. We popped into a coffee shop where they write your name on the cup and I realise I can use it as a teaching experience.)

Barista: “Name?”

Me: *gives a completely random name and steps to the side to wait*

Daughter: *looks confused*

Me: “Do you know why I gave the wrong name?”

Daughter: “No?”

Me: “What did you learn today about talking to strangers?”

Daughter: “Oh! So the lady still doesn’t know your real name!”

Me: “That’s right, so she can’t pretend she knows me. If she tried to pretend to know me, she would be using the wrong name, so I’d know she was a stranger.”

Daughter: “So if a stranger asks my name, I can give a pretend name?”

Me: “Yes, or you can just say, ‘I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.’”

Daughter: “Mum, that lady is shouting your pretend name.”

(The poor barista had been calling my order for the entire time, and I’d been listening for my real one.)

(I work at a large department store part-time and often work Sundays. For some reason, we’ve noticed that our oddest and most difficult customers show up on Sundays. Sure enough, this day we aren’t disappointed. A woman comes up to the till with her husband and wants to return some handbags. Our store’s policy for returns is that if it has been sold as “faulty,” we can’t return it. You must have the receipt and credit card that was used for any other items you want to return in order to get a full refund. The receipt says that one of the items was faulty, so I explain that we can’t return that one.)

Customer: “Oh, well, that wasn’t explained to me when I bought it. Anyway, look closely; you can see it’s been crossed out.”

(I call over my supervisor who explains the same thing to her. It should also be noted that the bags are partly paid with cash and partly paid with other bags that have already been returned, which go back about four receipts. This woman has been buying and returning bags every couple of weeks.)

Supervisor: “Okay, well, in order to do the refund, we’d need the card you paid for these on and the original receipt, because we’ve got the information for the cash payment but not the card number.”

(The customer digs around in her and her husband’s bags looking for the card and receipt, between them trying to decide what card it was on. Eventually, she decides they must have issued her a new card and she doesn’t have the old one.)

Supervisor: “If we can confirm that you have been issued a recent card, then we might be able to approve it.”

(The customer hands her a random card from her purse that was clearly issued over two years ago.)

Supervisor: “Um… This isn’t a recent card. I’m afraid if you don’t have the card or the original receipt then all I can do is give you the part payment in cash from this receipt and the rest on a gift card.”

Customer: “What? I don’t understand. I was told I could have a refund. It seems to me that you’re just being fussy about this and nitpicking.”

(My supervisor is like the mum of our team and she begins to slip into full mum-mode at this point. I’ve served at least two other customers by now.)

Supervisor: “Look, there’s not much else I can do. I’ve already told you that we can’t accept refunds normally on faulty goods, and someone has clearly written that it’s non-returnable on this receipt. We also don’t have the original receipt with the proof of the card you used and you don’t know which that is—”

Me: *trying to be helpful* “If we refund it to some other card without proof, that could be considered fraud!”

Supervisor: “Right, so we’ve offered to meet you halfway and give you the cash back for the purchase and put the rest on a gift card.”

Customer: *getting angry* “I don’t want a gift card! I don’t have the original card! Why can’t you just put it on one of these cards? I don’t know why you’re being so difficult!”

(My supervisor explains the whole thing again, using the receipts as evidence that there is no way we can just use any random card in her purse because none of her card numbers are on them.)

Customer: “I was told I’d only need that receipt and I could have a full refund! I don’t have the original card I purchased them on and I don’t want a gift card. You’re being very unreasonable.”

Supervisor: “You can see where I’m coming from, can’t you? I can’t refund to a card that we don’t have. You’ll have the cash back that you spent, but the rest will have to go on a gift card unless you want to try to find the original receipt with the card number.”

Customer: “Well, I might have the original receipt at home but I am not coming back. I want you to sort this out now.”

Husband: “Just take the gift card; you’ll spend it, anyway.”

Customer: “No, I won’t! I’m never coming back here again! I don’t want a gift card, but I’ll take it if that’s all they’re going to do. This is shocking. I don’t know why they’re being so difficult.”

(I put the return through and give her the cash back, and then awkwardly hand her the gift card she doesn’t want.)

Husband: “You’re gonna spend it.”

Customer: “No, I won’t!”

(She storms out without taking her receipts, so my supervisor puts them aside in case she comes back. Meanwhile, my colleague turns to me and says:)

Colleague: “I heard that whole thing and it was BS. It was me that served her before. I wrote that it was a non-refundable item on there and explained that to her twice.”

Supervisor: “Some people just want the Earth.”

Related:
Return Of The Returner: Lines Of Anger
Return Of The Returner: Mysteries From The Past
Return Of The Returner: The Buyback

(My friend — a rather tattooed and pierced young woman — and I have stopped to pick up some food on our way home from shopping. We’ve ordered and are sitting patiently waiting for our order to be called out. Both members of staff are in the back making our food. The door opens and a schoolgirl walks in, wearing her school uniform half unbuttoned, her hair in a beehive tied with a leopard-print scarf, and a “Monroe” piercing.)

Schoolgirl: “Hey! How much is a steak burger? Hello! Hello! How much is a steak burger?! I want a steak burger!”

(One staff member comes to the counter to take her order. She seems satisfied until she spots me and my friend. At this point, about five of her friends have come in, as well, despite the fact that only one of them is ordering anything.)

Schoolgirl: “Oh, my God! You seem them tattoos! They’re nasty. That skank is going to regret those when she gets old. What is she wearing? She’s got some big-a** chunky boots on. Look at that thing in her ear! It looks like a snail.”

(My friend is wearing a pretty big ear stretcher. She’s sitting there, trying not to take any notice, but the girl just won’t let up.)

Schoolgirl: “Eww. She looks like Shrek! She looks like a devil! God hates people like her! I should slap her across the face with a Bible! Jack the Ripper would come back from the dead and kill you! He likes girls like you! You’re f****** trash! Do you live in a trailer?”

(I’m fuming by this point. It’s taking everything I can not to get up and slap her around the face. I’m not a violent person by any stretch, but I can see how much it’s getting to my friend. The girl then decides to start on me. I’m average looking. I’m wearing plain clothes and glasses and I have long, red hair.)

Schoolgirl: “Yeah, look at that other one! She’s got glasses like Velma. She looks like she’s from Scooby-Doo! Oi, you want a Scooby Snack? Where’s Shaggy? Is he your boyfriend? Where’s Fred? Bet he’s your boyfriend! She’s ginger like Daphne, innit?”

Me: “Why don’t you shut up and keep your opinions to yourself?”

Schoolgirl: “Oh, my God! She even sounds like Velma! Why don’t you shut up?!”

Me: “I’m not the one who walked in and started throwing my pathetic opinions around!”

Schoolgirl: “Shut up!”

Me: “No, you shut your foul little mouth. I’m not the one still in school who can find nothing better to do than drag all of my friends into one fried chicken shop to buy a single burger and harass anyone that looks slightly different from me. Your insults are juvenile and pathetic. And if you want to talk about poor appearances, then perhaps you should rethink that disgusting beehive of yours and take that piercing out of your fat mouth.”

(We collected our food and left whilst the girl was still screaming at me to “shut up.”)

(A customer walks up to the counter.)

Me: “Hello, what can I do for you today?”

Customer: “I’d like to sell this phone for cash.”

Me: “Okay. Let’s get you the price and then book it in to be tested.”

(Moments pass during said process.)

Me: “All right, I just need to get a time from my tester, and then you can come back to pick this up in a little while. I just need you to sign this consent form…”

(The customer signs it and then waits.)

Me: “Is there anything else I can help you with? You’re free to go now.”

Customer: “Yes, I’m waiting for my money.”

Me: “We can only give you that after your phone passes all of the tests.”

Customer: “But it works. Can I not just have the money now, and I’ll come and sign the agreement later?”

Me: “But we don’t know that your phone does everything that it’s supposed to.”

Customer: “It does, though. Why would I lie?”

Me: “…”

(I am a teen, starting work in a laboratory. I am quiet and new to the working world, so I keep my head down and do everything to not screw up. There is a coworker that everyone tiptoes around. I can’t see why, apart from him being a bit unusual, until one day it becomes clear when two of my coworkers come into the room very flustered.)

Coworker: “You can’t speak to the driver like that!”

Unusual Coworker: “That idiot does it all the time.”

Coworker: “He’s just doing his job!”

Unusual Coworker: *shouting* “Then he needs to do it properly!” *storms out, slamming the door so hard the whole room shakes*

Me: “What was that all about?”

Coworker: “One of the guys dropped some parts off slightly out of the line marking. [Unusual Coworker] shouted and swore at him.”

Me: “You are kidding me!”

(No sooner have I finished my sentence than the unusual coworker storms back in again, slamming the door open.)

Unusual Coworker: “I don’t know what you two are talking about, but you need to pull it together. I’m sick of putting up with stuff like this!”

Coworker: “Don’t take it out on me; you need to calm down.”

Unusual Coworker: *getting right in his face* “You want to take this outside?”

Coworker: “Get out of my face, or I will make you regret it!”

(The atmosphere is terrible. I can’t speak, just shaking my head as he yet again storms out. Things calm down after a few hours before the unusual coworker blocks my path outside.)

Unusual Coworker: “I don’t like your attitude.”

Me: “What? I haven’t said two words to you.”

Unusual Coworker: “You shook your head at me; I want an apology.”

Me: “What?! Fine. I apologise for shaking my head. Get out of my way.”

(I reported his attitude to my boss, as did my coworker. A week later, he was removed from the company. I’m still working there, but it is a much better atmosphere all round.)