(I work in a pet store that sells fish, small animals, birds, and reptiles, as well as supplies for the animals. One day I answer a call to our store.)
Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. How may I help you?”
Customer: “Do you sell cows?”
Me: *long pause* “No, ma’am. We do not sell cows.”
(A friend and I sell items in an online store. Someone makes a purchase, so we pack up the item and purchase and print a shipping label through the website, which also sends a notification to the customer. Then, we drop the package off at the post office. Several days later, I get a message from the customer asking if the order has shipped yet. I check the tracking info only to see that, for some reason, that package has neither shipped nor even been checked in to the post office. My friend confirms she definitely dropped it off. We try calling the post office, but apparently, this branch is notoriously bad at ever answering the phones. Instead, my friend resolves to go to the post office in person and find out what’s going on. When she arrives and inquires about the package, it is quickly found on the floor in a corner, the label never having been scanned in. As my friend is making the employee scan the package into the system in front of her eyes, this interaction happens:)
Post Office Worker: “In the future, you should just hand packages directly to workers, rather than dropping them in the dropbox.”
Friend: “Seriously?!”
Post Office Worker: “What?”
Friend: “I did! You are the one I handed it to!”
(The customer finally got their package, and we don’t use that post office anymore.)
(I work at a thrift store. If you use your card to make a purchase, our registers let you sign the pad using a stylus. When you press “OK,” it briefly pops up a digital copy of your signature on our screen. Two boys in their late teens purchase some sports equipment. One scribbles on the pad, and then elbows his buddy and points to the screen in a not-so-subtle fashion, snickering all the while. His buddy cracks a huge grin, as well. I already know exactly what he’s done, so when a scribbled part of male anatomy pops up in lieu of his signature, I’m prepared. Keeping my face cheerfully Retail-Friendly, I print the kid a copy of his receipt and hand it to him, which contains a copy of his “art.”)
Me: “Thank you for shopping with us! Here’s your d**k-on-a-slip!”
(The kid’s eyes went huge for a second, and then both of them fled with their items and receipt. Maybe they didn’t expect the seemingly-innocent female cashier to give as good as she got? Or maybe they figured I would never actually see it? Who knows. And no, I didn’t get in trouble for it. My manager laughed hysterically, and I got a high-five from another female cashier, who said she would do her best to remember it if another customer tried that with her.)
(I am in the diner of a popular international home goods store. They recently added an espresso machine to the drink station, a few feet away from the registers, so now customers can get free refills on lattes, cappuccinos, and americanos just like the regular coffee. It is a very popular addition. The drink takes a few moments to steam the milk and dispense, so a small line has formed. One fellow in his forties keeps sighing and rolling his eyes as each order is dispensed, clearly impatient. The young woman in front of him gives him a raised eyebrow, but says nothing. Then the machine runs out of beans on the customer in front of her, and says to wait for an attendant.)
Man: “Oh, my God! It’s like I’m in the Twilight Zone!” *yelling towards registers* “Hey! Your machine’s broken down again!“
(The young woman in front of him rolls her eyes.)
Man: “I know, right? This machine broke down earlier, too, and even when it works, it takes forever. Now we have to wait for someone to come out and fix it, and then, like clockwork, it breaks down again! I don’t know why they insult us with this piece of junk. It’s ridiculous!”
Woman: *snapping* “You’re ridiculous!”
Man: “Excuse me?!”
Woman: *turning on him* “First of all, each drink takes like fifteen seconds to make, but it sure feels longer listening to you constantly huffing back there. Also, I’m no mechanic, but I’m pretty sure it’s not broken down. It just doesn’t have a magical infinite supply of coffee beans, so if you can handle just waiting for a freaking second you can get your $3 bottomless drink that you somehow still manage to complain about.”
(The man turns red and goes quiet for a moment. The attendant comes during this exchange and goes about refilling the machine, pretending not to overhear.)
Attendant: “Sorry about that, folks. Hope you weren’t waiting long.”
Woman: “Not at all. Thank you.”
Man: “Excuse me! Does she work here? She was very rude to me just now.”
Woman: “No, I don’t.”
Attendant: *shakes head and walks away quickly*
Man: “What’s your name? Where do you work?”
Woman: “None of your f****** business.”
Other Man: *who’s been at the front of line* “Oh, look! It only took a moment, and we can have our nearly-instant luxury again. Can we stop having a fit, now?”
(The man in back of the line huffs again as the customer in front orders a latte, then, with an evil grin, hits the button again for a cappuccino, which fills it to the rim of the cup.)
Woman: “A double? Ooh, that’s genius! Well, why not? It is free, after all!”
Other Man: *brightly* “Why not, indeed!”
(Their four drinks combined force the angry guy in the back to wait about a whole minute, and he looks ready to explode. The man finally snatches his drink and stomps off, red-aced. The woman laughs and looks over at where I’ve been listening discreetly and says:)
Woman: “Oh, man, I love being off the clock.”
Related:
Has No Problem Espresso-ing Herself, Part 5
Has No Problem Espresso-ing Herself, Part 4
Has No Problem Espresso-ing Herself, Part 3
(A customer comes in complaining that her trunk lid on her car is making noise.)
Me: “Did you recently install a stereo system or speaker box in the car?”
Customer: “Yes, my boyfriend installed a new system.”
Me: “The rattling is probably caused by the vibrations. We sell sound deadener sheets, or you can tighten up all the screws and nuts in the trunk area.”
Customer: *clearly getting mad now* “Well, can’t you just come outside and look at it? It is not the stereo!”
Me: “Okay, ma’am. Let’s go outside and take a look.”
(We do so.)
Customer: “See? I told you it is rattling.”
Me: *hardly containing my laughter* “Well, ma’am, the rattling is the bass from the stereo box. If you—”
Customer: *interrupting* “NO, NO, NO! It isn’t that. See what happens when I do this…”
(She turns up the stereo and it gets worse. I’m trying to think how I can get out of this.)
Me: “Um, yeah, about that… Best thing I can tell you is… Yeah, I have nothing. Maybe you need to take it by a shop.”
Customer: “Hmph! I will go somewhere else where they know what they are doing!”
