(I work for an up-brand mass-market chocolatier. The company has café stores and non-café stores. I was the head barista for two years in a café store, but at this point I am a senior sales in a non-café.)

Guest: “I bought your hot chocolate and I don’t like it.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that, sir. Can I ask how you’ve been making it? That sometimes affects the taste.”

Guest: “I’ve done it every way. Whenever I come in they tell me something different.”

(I list the ways you could make it and he nods along, the response being, “No, I didn’t like that way.”)

Me: “The only other option, sir, would be to use a pressure wand, like a milk-foamer on a coffee machine.”

Guest: “That’s ridiculous! I’m not forking out money for a product I’ve already bought!”

Me: “I understand, sir, but there isn’t any other way I can think of to help you. If you have the product or the receipt, I can refund or exchange.”

Guest: “I don’t want to do that! Can’t you just make it here?”

Me: “This isn’t a café store, sir; we don’t have those facilities.”

Guest: “Well, what are you going to do about it?!”

Me: “If you have the receipt or the product, I can give you a full refund. Other than coming to your house and making it for you, there’s nothing I can do at this juncture.”

Guest: “Come to my house, then.”

Me: “Sir, I’m not prepared to do that. I—”

Guest: “You clearly don’t care about your job, then!”

(He stormed off. Apparently the same guest comes in about once a month and complains about not liking a particular product, but never buys anything in-store or has the product or receipt. Some people just like to complain.)

(I’ve recently moved address and need to get it changed with my bank, so I phone up.)

Bank Worker: “Hello, how can I assist you today?”

Me: “Hi. I need to change my address that’s associated with my account, please.”

Bank Worker: “Okay. Do you have the special four-digit code you need to change the address?”

Me: “No. I didn’t know I needed one. I know all my security questions and everything; will that not work?”

Bank Worker: “No. We can only use the four-digit code to change addresses on the system.”

Me: “Okay. How do I get one?”

Bank Worker: “We send you it in the post.”

Me: “You send it? But I’ve moved house. I’m no longer at the address you have on record.”

Bank Worker: “Okay?”

Me: “So, how do I get a code?”

Bank Worker: “We send it to your address.”

Me: “So, let me get this straight: I need a special code to be able to change my address that will get sent to the address that I’m no longer living at?”

Bank Worker: *pause* “Yes.”

(Facepalm.)

Child #1: “Ugh. I am so hungry, I’m Hank Marvin.”

Child #2: “Who’s Hank Marvin?”

Child #1: “I dunno, some scientist who discovered foods.”

(I am working at the reception desk of a hotel at 11 pm. We have a walk-in, which is uncommon here as it is a golf resort, out in the middle of nowhere, but does happen. This guy says he is traveling on business and wants a basic room. I make his booking in the system, and give him the price. It’s a pretty low rate for this county, as it is midweek.)

Customer: “Aww, that’s really expensive! Can’t you get me a better rate?”

Me: “I’m sorry. The system decides the price based on day and availability; there’s nothing I can do.”

Customer: “Come on! I know the manager of this place! He’d give me a low price!”

Me: *my scam senses are tingling so I decide to play his game* “I see. Well. I might be able to get you a regular’s discount… if you can give me the manager’s name.”

(I say this in the full knowledge that this guy won’t know it, and I won’t have to give him the discount. I realise this could be considered a gamble, but call it intuition.)

Customer: “I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

Me: “Well… if you were asking for a member’s discount, I would need your member’s card to prove you were a member. Usually for a regular’s discount, I have to check our system for proof of at least six bookings in the year, so… as a customer, there’s a lot of things you have to prove. Is there a problem?”

(Lucky me, as a night porter, I can get cheeky with the customers, as we are considered security, and I can write almost any questioning off as “checking for suspicious behavior.” I do not suffer people like this gladly. I would never, ever swear or raise my voice to a customer, so through this exchange, I have been smiling, polite, and chirpy.)

Customer: *getting a sort of “rabbit in headlights” look* “Um. Well. It might be the old manager, now.”

Me: “Ah, well, that’s a shame. You could give me his name to be sure?”

Customer: *grumbling* “Never mind. I shall take the rate.”

Me: “Of course, sir.”

(I finish putting his booking through, and take him to his room, wishing him a goodnight. As I walk away from his door, he leans back out and calls quietly to me.)

Customer: “How many times has someone actually tried that on you?”

Me: “Enough that I have an answer for every method they try.”

(I’m working in the office and the phone rings. It’s someone from a call centre. There are only two people who work here: the owner and me.)

Caller: “Hello there. Is [Employee who retired in 2010] available, please?”

Me: “He retired a number of years ago.”

Caller: “Okay, then. Is the owner of the business available, please?”

Me: “No.”

Caller: “Do you know when he’ll be available?”

Me: “Can I ask who is calling, please?”

Caller: “It’s [Caller] from [Unknown Company].”

Me: “And can I ask why you’re calling?”

Caller: “It’s a confidential business matter regarding the owner.”

Me: “With all due respect, it cannot be that confidential if you don’t even know the owner’s name.”

Caller: “Okay, then. Thank you for your time.” *click*

Related:
Got Owned And The Owner Wasn’t Even There