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Carrie 3: Disaster In The Deli

, , , , , | Right | July 14, 2008

Me: “Hi, welcome to [Restaurant]. What can I get you?”

Customer: “Yeah, which of these sandwiches are five dollars?”

Me: “Just these eight behind me.”

(I point to a very large sign that has a giant “5” on it and a list of our five-dollar foot-long subs.)

Customer: “Oh, okay…”

(She gives me the order of three subs and I make them.)

Me: “Okay, that’ll be $20.47.”

Customer: “What?! Why the h*** are they that expensive? You said that they were five dollars!!”

(By this time all the yelling she’s doing has turned her face blood-red; this is important for later in the story.)

Me: “Well, yes, those eight over there. All three of the ones you ordered are not.”

Customer: “That’s not true! I got them off the board you told me about!”

(She points at the board NEXT to the one I talked about which lists our six-inch subs.)

Me: “No, ma’am, that’s our six-inch board. The one next to it with the GIANT FIVE on it are the five-dollar subs.”

Customer: “Well, aren’t you a f***ing carnival weasel! You said those were five dollars!”

Me: “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding– Wait, did you just call me a carnival weasel?”

Customer: “YOU HEARD ME, CAAARNIVAAL WEEASELLLL!”

Me: “All right. Well, ma’am, I’m getting a line here so would you just like me to remake your sandwiches so we can move?”

Customer: “F*** YOU!”

(She suddenly gets a massive nose bleed which gets all over the counter and the floor. As she storms out cursing and bleeding, the customers applaud and even help me clean it up before ordering. )

Coworker: “She called you a carnival weasel!”

Me: “Yeeeaah. Well, have fun with that…”

(I still see that lady every now and then come up to the door, see me, turn around, and leave.)


This story is part of the Customers-Ignoring-Signs roundup!

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Not Always Right On So Many Levels

, , , | Right | July 8, 2008

(A customer on crutches starts screaming racist epithets at her cashier.)

Disabled Customer: “You god-d*** n*****! You b****! How could you do that to me?! This is discrimination!”

Cashier: *totally shocked*

(I walk over right away. Keep in mind, I’m white.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry you’re upset, but could you please watch your language? There are children here. Now, I’d be ha–”

Disabled Customer: “Y’all hate people with disabilities! F*** the children! And f*** you, you n*****! I’m calling corporate!”

Me: “If that’s what you want to do, ma’am, I can’t stop you.”

Disabled Customer: “D*** right you can’t, you black b****!”

(She suddenly throws down her “crutches” and very easily walks out of the store.)

Another Customer: “Wait, did she just call you black?”

(She did end up calling the corporate office, but it was dismissed because she kept calling the operator a sand monkey and saying that she was going to burn in h*** for stealing white people’s jobs. To do this day, whenever we get bored we play with her crutches in the back stock room.)


This story is part of the Customers-Overreacting roundup!

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…And Fruit Hates You Right Back

, , , | Right | July 7, 2008

Me: “Hi, how can I help you today?”

Customer: “Yeah, I’d like a Coke.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, we make smoothies here. Have you looked at our menu?”

Customer: “You don’t have any Coke?”

Me: “No, sir. Just fruit drinks.”

Customer: “Oh. Well, I’ll have a coffee then.”

Me: “Sir, we don’t serve coffee here. Just smoothies.”

Customer: “What kind of drink shop is this?! I come in here trying to get a drink, and you don’t have anything!”

Me: “We’re a smoothie shop, sir. What kind of fruit do you like?”

Customer: “I HATE FRUIT!” *storms out of the store*

Goodwill Running Out About… Now

, , , , , | Right | July 4, 2008

Me: “Thank you for calling [Hotels] Inns and Suites. How may I help you tonight?”

Customer: “Yes, my plane was delayed, so I need to cancel my reservation in Vegas and get a room here.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, sir. Let me look that up for you.”

(I take his information, call the hotel, and talk them into canceling the reservation even though their policy said he should have had to pay for it because of the short notice. I put in the extra effort because I felt bad for the guy.)

Me: “Okay, sir, I’ve taken care of that and made you a new reservation at a hotel there. Your total for the room is going to be $89.”

Customer: “But my flight was delayed and I had to cancel my other reservation. My stay should be free!”

Me: “Well, you’ll have to check with the airline. They should pay for all or part of your hotel stay.”

Customer: “They told me you’d pay for it.”

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry, but I’m not sure why they would have told you that. The airline is responsible for the delay. We are not and we can’t give you a free stay. You’re going to have to talk to them.”

Customer: “Look, you’re going to give me a f****** free night in the f****** hotel here. You have to. My flight was canceled.”

Me: “Sir, I have to ask you not to curse at me. I will terminate the call.”

Customer: “Look, b****–” *click*

(I received five or six hang-up calls in the next 30 minutes, which I assume were his attempts to get another agent. Unfortunately for him, I was the only person working after midnight. I no longer felt bad for him.)


This story is part of our Swearing Customers roundup!

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From Parallel To Perpendicular

, , , , | Right | July 2, 2008

(In our hospital sleep lab, we have a bunch of rooms with beds for people to sleep on. Every room is monitored and recorded with a video camera so we can watch the patients while they’re sleeping. One day, my daughter’s math teacher came in…)

Me: “Hey, Mr. [Teacher]! Let me hook you up and you can get to sleep.”

Teacher: “All right.”

(I hook him up and tell him to try to sleep as quickly as he can. We don’t give our patients sleep medication because that could interfere with their normal sleep habits. As I return to the control room, I hear hysterical laughter.)

Me: “What’s going on?”

Coworker: “Who did you say that guy was?”

Me: “Oh! My daughter’s math teacher at her high school.”

(Everyone laughs harder.)

Me: “What is going on?”

(My coworker points to the screen showing Mr. [Teacher]’s room. He’s masturbating.)

Me: *over the intercom* “MR. [Teacher], PLEASE! You are being recorded!”

Teacher: “But you said to go to sleep as fast as I can!”

Me: “That’s not appropriate!”

Teacher: “Well, fine! I guess a man can’t get any privacy when he’s trying to sleep! YOU’RE inappropriate! Why the h*** were you watching me?!” *gets dressed and storms out of the hospital*