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Guess He Couldn’t Beat The Final Boss Beagle

, , , , | Right | October 19, 2008

Customer: “I need to return this game. It’s too hard for my son.”

Employee: “Well, miss, according to your reciept, you bought this new. So, all you can do is get another copy of the same thing if it’s defective.”

Customer: “Who the h*** are you? I’ve never seen you before!”

Employee: “I’ve been here for close to a year…”

Customer: “I’ve been coming here for a long time and I’ve never seen you!”

Employee: “Well, be that as it may, you cannot return the game. I’m sorry.”

Customer: “F*** you!”

Me: “Miss, I am the store manager here and what my associate is telling you is true; you cannot return the game and you need to leave. I will not tolerate you insulting my employees.”

Customer: “Make me leave! See what happens!”

Me: “Okay, I’ll just call security. Will that do it for you?”

Customer: “Call security! I’ll call the cops!”

Me: “Be my guest… That’d be awesome.”

Customer: “I’m the store manager of [Store] across the street and I’d never treat a customer this way!”

Me: “Would you break return policy just because someone is yelling?”

Customer: *leaves in a huff*

Me: *to employee* “What game was it, anyway?”

Employee: “…Nintendogs.”

Moms: Gotta Love ‘Em

, , , , , | Right | October 19, 2008

(My mother told me this story, which happened to her as a cashier when she was in college.)

Mom: “Are you going to pay for that other soda?”

Male Customer: “What soda?”

Mom: “The one in your pants?”

Male Customer: “That’s not a soda; that’s my penis!”

Mom: “If that’s your penis, I am going home with you right now!”

Male Customer: *slams soda on the counter and walks out*

He’s Gonna Need A Huge Courtroom

, , , , , , | Right | October 16, 2008

(I’m calling to renew magazine subscriptions.)

Me: “Hello, may I speak with [Customer]?”

Customer: “This is him, and you know… I’ve gotten five calls from Boise, Idaho, today!”

Me: “So sorry, but I assure you it wasn’t us. Our system only calls once per day.”

Customer: “Do you work for them! Do you work for Boise, Idaho?”

Me: “Yeah, I guess. But there are a number of call centers here in Boise. Maybe one of them called you?”

Customer: “No! It was Boise, Idaho! You know what? This is what’s going to happen… Let me have your name!”

Me: *gives name*

Customer: “Well, son, you are now involved in a lawsuit! I am suing Boise, Idaho, and everyone who works for Boise, Idaho!”

Me: “…are you serious?”

Customer: “Yes! I get calls all the time from Boise, Idaho, and I’m sick of it! I’m on a ‘do not call’ list!”

Me: “Well, you subscribed to this magazine, so the list doesn’t apply. However, I can put you on our system’s ‘do not call’ list and we will never bother you again.”

Customer: “This is so illegal. I’m taking your job and suing Boise, Idaho!”

Me: “I wish you the best of luck in suing Boise, Idaho, sir. I really do.” *click*

Fibbing Fail

, , , | Right | October 16, 2008

Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer: “I need to return this d*** camera.”

Me: “Sure, was it not working?”

Customer: “I just don’t want it, okay?”

Me: “Okay. Have you opened the box yet?”

Customer: “Why does that matter?”

Me: “Well, as the sticker on the box says, if the box is opened and you return it, I have to charge you a restocking fee.”

Customer: “Oh. No… no, it hasn’t been opened.”

(I look and the box has been clearly opened, with a torn seal.)

Me: “Uh… are you sure it hasn’t been opened?”

Customer: “LOOK! ARE YOU CALLING ME A F***ING LIAR? Where is your manager? I spend hundreds of thousands of dollars here and this is how I’m treated?!”

Me: “Ma’am, if you just–”

Customer: “THESE PEOPLE CALL CUSTOMERS LIARS! DON’T SHOP HERE!”

Me: “Ma’am, I believe you! I will return it!”

Customer: “That’s right you will!”

Me: “Can I see your receipt?”

Customer: “It’s in the box.”

Equal Opportunity Intolerance

, , , , | Right | October 16, 2008

(At our credit union, we have one teller with a neurological disorder that causes a constant, but mild tremor in her hands.)

Customer: *shouts across the lobby* “Hey, you, are you the manager?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “Then get your a** over here!”

Me: “Okay, what seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “This woman is sitting here shaking in her god-d*** boots waiting on me and son because we are [race].”

Me: “Ma’am, I assure you she is not shaking because you are [race]. She is treating you the same way she treats every member.”

Customer: “NO!” *points at teller* “You are a racist! I have never seen someone so scared of [race]. This is blatant discrimination!”

Teller: “Ma’am, I have an illness that causes me mild tremors. It has nothing to do with you.”

Customer: “Well, I feel like I am being discriminated against. If you really do have an illness there should be a sign over your window telling people about it so they can avoid coming to your window so they don’t get scared and upset.”

Me: “Now that would be discrimination, right?”

Customer: *storms off*