Me: “Hi, how are you today?”

Customer: “Fine.”

Me: “Did you find everything okay?”

Customer: “Sure.”

I start ringing her items up.

Customer: “No, that’s supposed to be 50% off.”

Me: “All right, no problem! Let me ask someone to double-check that for you.”

I call my coworker over our headsets and ask.

Coworker: “Nope, no discount off of these.”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, it doesn’t have a discount on it.”

Customer: “Whatever. I don’t want it, then.”

I continue to ring her items and she asks about several more that are “supposed” to have a discount.

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, my coworker said there’s no discount on most of these.”

Customer: “Let me speak to your manager, then.”

I call the manager over.

Manager: “What seems to be the issue?”

Customer: “Your employee isn’t giving me the discount on these items!”

Manager: “All right, let me check this for you.”

He checks for any sale prices on any of the items and comes up with nothing.

Customer: “Ugh! You people are so selfish with your discounts!”

She then stormed off without any of the items, leaving my manager and me there wondering what had just happened.

Related:
Don’t Discount The Customer’s Ability To Discount, Part 17
Don’t Discount The Customer’s Ability To Discount, Part 16
Don’t Discount The Customer’s Ability To Discount, Part 15
Don’t Discount The Customer’s Ability To Discount, Part 14
Don’t Discount The Customer’s Ability To Discount, Part 13

I’m having my first eye test in a few years and the doctor gives me the colorblind test to flip through. I surprisingly stumble on a few of them, and my wife comments that she’s noticed I tend to confuse certain colors.

Doctor: “You’re not fully colorblind, but you do have something there. Probably a muted form inherited from your father. Does he have trouble with colors?”

Me: “Not that I know of, but he doesn’t really—”

Doctor: *Interrupting me* “Oh, then he’s not your father because you’re definitely a little colorblind. Women have to inherit the gene from both parents. I wonder who your real father is.”

Me: “Did you really just say that to me?”

It turned out that I have tritanomaly, which can come from a blow to the head — and I was bucked off a few horses in my life — OR can be inherited if both your parents at least carry the gene as it’s a mutation. So, it turns out that it IS possible for a non-colorblind man to father a colorblind(ish) daughter!

A woman looks around for a few minutes and comes up to the register. We are a department store that sells mostly clothing and cosmetics; we are not a grocery store or a supermarket and it is very obvious we don’t sell grocery items.

Customer: “Where is your cat food?” 

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t have cat food. [Major Retailer] down the road has cat food and I think [Pharmacy Chain] across the street does, too.”

Customer: “I don’t want to go to [Major Retailer]. I came here for a reason. What department is your cat food in?” 

Me: “There isn’t any cat food in this store, ma’am. This is [Store]. We don’t sell that kind of thing.” 

Customer: “Okay. Thanks, I guess.”

She then goes on to write a bad review to our store manager about how the cashier wouldn’t tell her where the cat food was and how we should have a better selection of pet items. 

My manager laughs at it the next day in our usual morning meeting.

Manager: “You can’t fix stupid.”

I work as a bartender at a place that is known for buffalo wings. Often when we are slow, they put the bartender in charge of takeout to let the cashier go home. Our computer system requires that we input a phone number and name for all to-go orders before getting to the order screen. Also, we have over twenty different sauces and dry rubs available for our wings. This conversation happens about once a week for a good couple of months.

Me: “[Restaurant], [Location], this is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Yeah, I’ll take ten buffalo.”

Me: “Are you looking to place a to-go order?”

Caller: “Yeah.”

Me: “Can I start off with a good phone number?”

They mumble through the number.

Me: “Okay, and what name can I put with this order?”

They give their name.

Me: “All right, what can I get for you today?”

Caller: “Ten buffalo.”

Me: “Are you looking for our traditional or boneless wings today?”

Caller: “Traditional.”

Me: “All right, and what size would you like? We have four different sizes, and the counts for the wings are about five, ten, fifteen, twenty.”

Caller: “Ten.”

Me: “Okay, and you said you wanted them in buffalo? Buffalo is our dry rub; are you looking for our dry rub today or one of our wet sauces?”

Caller: “Wet.”

Me: “We have four different buffalo-flavored wet sauces: Mild, Medium, Hot, and Wild. Which one would you like?”

Caller: “What’s the difference?”

Me: “They all taste like buffalo; the only difference is the heat level.”

Caller: “Medium.”

Me: “All right, and did you want any ranch, blue cheese, celery, or carrots today?”

Caller: “Ranch.”

Me: “All righty, can I get you anything else today?”

Caller: “Yeah, ten BBQ.”

I facepalmed, knowing that I’d have to start the process over again at traditional or boneless wings and that we have four different BBQ sauces.

Related:
Getting To The Sauce Of The Problem, Part 4
Getting To The Sauce Of The Problem, Part 3
Getting To The Sauce Of The Problem, Part 2
Getting To The Sauce Of The Problem

I’m working food prep behind the concession stand. [Customer #1], a woman in her forties, ordered chicken fingers about five minutes ago, and they’re just finishing up. As I’m preparing to bring them out, a young teenage couple, [Customer #2] and [Customer #3], order the same thing from the cashier, and they are told it’ll be about five minutes. I recognize the couple as having caused some problems before, so I know it’s gonna be painful.

I wander from behind the concession stand and begin to approach the woman who placed the first order.

Me: “Ma’am, I have your chicken fingers.”

Suddenly, [Customer #2] and [Customer #3] jump in front of me.

Customer #2: “Yeah, we had chicken fingers.”

Me: “Yup! I got yours in the oven. It’ll just be a few more minutes.”

Customer #3: “But those are ours.”

Me: “Oh, I understand the confusion. These were ordered before your order. But don’t worry, I have your order in the oven, and it’ll be out soon.”

At this point, [Customer #1] has noticed me and has begun to walk towards me to get her food. I try to walk around the couple, and they again walk right in front of me and block me.

Customer #2: “Um… we had the chicken fingers.”

Me: “Yes, I understand you ordered chicken fingers. Your order will be out in a few minutes.”

Customer #3: “Babe, why won’t he give us our order?”

Customer #2: “I dunno. Just give us our order, dude.”

Me: “Yes, I will definitely give you your order when it is done.”

Customer #2: “But that’s our order!”

Me: “As I said, this order was placed before yours. Your order is in the oven. It will be ready in just a few minutes.”

I try to walk around them again, and they block me for a third time. At this point, [Customer #1] is standing on the other side of them. I try to pass the food to her, and [Customer #2] responds by trying to snatch it right out of my hand. I pull them back before he can grab them.

I remain polite but become firm.

Me: “Again, these are not your order. Your order will be out in a few minutes.”

Customer #2: “But I ordered the chicken fingers!”

Me: “Yes, but other people ordered chicken fingers before you.”

Customer #3: “Why won’t you give us our order?!”

Me: “Because these are not yours.”

[Customer #1] sees what’s going on. She’s clearly somewhat amused but also annoyed that she can’t get her order. She walks around the couple and right up next to me so she can grab her order. I try to hand it to her, and again, [Customer #2] tries to grab it out of my hand.

Me: “Sir, I’m not repeating myself again. These. Are. Not. Your. Order. Do not try to take other people’s food.”

Customer #2: “But we ordered chicken tenders!”

Customer #1: *Amused but very annoyed* “SO DID I, DIPS***!”

[Customer #2] goes quiet. [Customer #1] finally gets her food and leaves. [Customer #2] puffs out his chest and puts on a tough-guy voice.

Customer #2: “You could have just told me, a**hole! Don’t make me look like a fool in front of my girl ever again! You’ll be f****** sorry!”

Me: *Rolling my eyes* “Aww, you’re adorable. Did you want any sauce with your order?”

Customer #2: “F*** YOU, MAN!”

He stomped off and left his girlfriend to pick up the order. The write-up for mouthing off to him was totally worth it just to see how frustrated he got when he saw that I wasn’t afraid of him.