Hell Hath No Fury Like A Pregnant Woman Scorned
CANDY STORE, EDITORS' CHOICE, INSPIRATIONAL, MARRIAGE & PARTNERS, USA | RIGHT | SEPTEMBER 10, 2009
(A man comes to my register with a mint chocolate candy bar.)

Me: “Anything else?”

Customer: “Can you break a $100 bill?”

Me: “Actually, I can’t. We just opened and I haven’t gone to the bank today.”

Customer: “Oh, no! Do you know anywhere I can get change? I need this candy right away!”

(At this point I notice his panicked look. Coupled with the fact that he’s buying the most unappetizing candy in the store, I jump to a conclusion.)

Me: “Sir, these aren’t for you, are they?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Did your pregnant wife send you out at eight in the morning to buy this candy?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “For the love of God, man! Get these home to her before you’re in even more trouble! You can come back and pay me later!”

(The customer bolted out the door. He later came back, visibly calmer, and paid.)

Hell In A Handbag
BOOKSTORE, CRIMINAL & ILLEGAL, EDITORS' CHOICE, RELIGION, UK | RIGHT | AUGUST 27, 2009
Me: “That will be 17.50, please.”

Customer: “Are you a Christian, dear?”

Me: “Why do you ask?”

Customer: “Are you?”

Me: “Well, no. Why do you want to know?”

Customer: “Oh. I would like to be helped by someone else, please.”

Manager: “Good morning, ma’am, I hear you’ve been having a problem with the clerk?”

Customer: “Oh, she didn’t make any trouble, it’s just that I don’t want my money to be handled by someone not of the faith. You should be careful. She’ll probably nick from the till when you’re not looking.”

Manager: “You’re right, ma’am. I shall definitely have to reprimand her.”

Me: *surprised* “What for?”

Manager: “For failing to notice that the lady was not planning on paying for the three Mars bars and the map of Europe she must have put in her bag while you were fetching me.”

(The customer freezes for a second, then looks at her bag.)

Customer: “Good heavens! I must’ve been so distracted I didn’t even notice the devil putting them there!”

He Fought The Law, And The Law Won
BOOKSTORE, CRIMINAL & ILLEGAL, EDITORS' CHOICE, INSTANT KARMA | RIGHT | JUNE 22, 2009
(A man has been causing a ruckus at the registers for ten minutes and a line had formed behind him.)

Man: “I’m a lawyer and I know my rights! If you don’t take this return I’m going to sue the living s*** out of you.”

(A woman in a professional-looking business suit steps up to the register. In a cool professional voice, she asks to see the receipt that the man is waving. After a moment’s inspection, she gives him a hard stare over the rim of her glasses.)

Woman: “Sir, the store’s return policy is clearly printed on your receipt. They cannot take back opened CDs.”

Man: “But–”

Woman: “FURTHERMORE, by purchasing from this store, you are accepting the store’s return policy as a signed contract that you agreed to abide by.”

Man: “I–”

Woman: “IN ADDITION, by blatantly trying to circumvent this contract signed by you, no judge would rule in your favor.”

Man: “But I–”

Woman: “If you really were a lawyer, you would be fully aware of this fact. By claiming to be a lawyer when you are clearly NOT, you are committing an act of fraud, which can get you arrested.”

(The man turns white and flees the store without another peep.)

Woman: “I’ve had eight years’ experience working behind the registers, dealing with people like him. MAN, that felt GOOD!”

On The Straight And Narrow (Minded)
BAR, DATING, EDITORS' CHOICE, LGBTQ | RIGHT ROMANTIC | AUGUST 26, 2009
(I’m a female customer sitting in a pub. I’m approached by a male customer while I read a book.)

Male Customer: “Hello, my name is [Name].”

Me: “That’s nice.”

Male Customer: “So can I have your number?”

Me: “Oh. Actually, I’m gay.”

Male Customer: “You want to have sex with women?”

Me: “Well, not right now. Right now, I just want to read my book.”

Male Customer: “That’s bull-s***! If you’re a lesbian then you want to have sex with women!”

Me: “Honestly, I just want to read my book.”

Male Customer: “You’re lying to me; that’s very rude! I’m going to complain!”

Male Customer: *to a waitress* “That girl over there is being really rude. I want you to do something, it’s disturbing my day. She just lied to me and told me that she was a lesbian, and now she’s mocking me.”

Waitress: “What am I supposed to do about that? Make her straight?”

Male Customer: “Just do something about it!”

Waitress: *to me* “Hello, there.”

Me: “Hello. I’m sorry about him.”

Waitress: “Oh, it’s no problem! So, can I have your number?”

Male Customer: *looks horrified*

Me: “Er, yeah, sure. Here.”

(I write my number on a napkin and she takes it, still smiling.)

Waitress:*to male customer* “See? She’s a lesbian.”

Male Customer: “That’s not what I wanted you to do! I didn’t want you to ask her out, I wanted you to make her leave! I demand to speak to your manager!”

Waitress: “Oh, he’s just popped out. I can get his boyfriend for you though if you want?”

Male Customer: *storms out cursing*

(It turned out that the waitress was kidding about her manager, but she wasn’t kidding about asking me out!)

A Good Ol’ Fashioned A** Whoopin’
BOSSES & OWNERS, EDITORS' CHOICE, RETAIL, WILD & UNRULY | RIGHT | AUGUST 27, 2008
Me: “Sir, would you like to use any coupons today?”

Customer: “Yes, I’ve been saving them. Here you go!”

(He hands me a coupon that had expired five years previously.)

Me: “Sir, your coupon is expired.”

Customer: “WHAT?! What do you mean it’s expired? You f***ing b****, you’re just trying to steal my f***ing money! You’re trying to rob me! You and this f***ing company are trying to steal my f***ing money!”

(The customer attempts to climb over the counter and attack me. Thankfully, my manager intercepts him.)

Manager: “Sir, I need you to come with me.”

(My manager hauls the customer off counter by the back of his collar and drags him outside. Ten minutes pass, and he comes back in hauling a very disheveled customer by the shirt.)

Customer: “Your manager told me that I need to apologize to you. I’m sorry for yelling.”

Manager: “Now, apologize for cursing at her.”

Customer: “I’m sorry for cursing at you.”

Manager: “Now, what’s our policy on expired coupons?”

Customer: “You don’t accept them.”

Manager: *to me* “Is he forgiven, or would you like to have him arrested?”

Me: “No, it’s okay. ”

Manager: *to customer* “Now get out, and don’t come back.” *throws customer out*

… And We Wonder Why Everyone Hates Us
BAD BEHAVIOR, BIGOTRY, USA, YOGURT SHOP | RIGHT | NOVEMBER 7, 2007
Customer: “Are you Hispanic?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Middle Eastern?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Egyptian?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “What are you?”

Me: “Chinese.”

(customer puts on offended face)

Customer: “I don’t appreciate you treating me like I’m dumb.”

Me: “Excuse me? I’m being honest.”

Customer: “NO CHINESE PERSON WOULD EVER HAVE EYES AS BIG AS YOURS!”

Me: *mouth wide open*

Making A Hug(e) Difference
CLOTHING STORE, EDITORS' CHOICE, INSPIRATIONAL | RIGHT | MAY 26, 2011
(I’m having a very bad day, having dealt with a series of unpleasant customers. I have a half-hearted smile on my face, when a six year old boy walks in. He stares at me for a second, then gives me a hug.)

Me: “Thanks, but where is your mommy?”

Boy: “She’ll be here soon.”

Me: “She might not want you hugging random strangers.”

(He shakes his head.)

Boy: “Mommy says retail people need more hugs. You looked like you needed one.”

Burned
CAMP, EDITORS' CHOICE, HEALTH & BODY | RIGHT | JULY 30, 2008
(I’m a high ropes instructor and work with kids in the forest. There are “No Smoking” signs posted all over the place, but I see a woman smoking right next to a sign.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry. There’s no smoking in this area.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “Because it could start a fire.”

Customer: *snottily* “Well, I’ll make sure not to do that.”

Me: “Ma’am, you still can’t smoke in this area. There are children everywhere… the smoke’s not good for them.”

Customer: “Well, they’re my children, so it’s really my decision to make, isn’t it?”

Me: “Actually, as this is our property, it’s our decision. Please take your disgusting habit elsewhere.”

Customer: “Your FACE is disgusting.”

Me: “Well, ma’am, as soon as my face starts causing cancer, you can complain.

Love A Jedi Shall Know
AUSTIN, CRUSH, GEEKS RULE, GROCERY STORE, TEXAS, USA | RIGHT ROMANTIC | JANUARY 11, 2011
(I am at work and I see two girls from my college I know as acquaintances, but not as much more than that. I have a crush on one of them as she is really pretty and seems nice for the most part. I watch as she and her friend approach the register.)

My Crush: “No, you’re wrong! I’m telling you, he never said that!”

(I assume they are gossiping about something until I listen a little more to the conversation.)

Her Friend: “No, he did! He totally did! We watched it last night, stupid!”

My Crush: “Obi-Wan never says, ‘I love you, Anakin.’ The line is ‘You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.’!”

Her Friend: “No!”

My Crush: *turns to me* “Oh, hey, [My Name]! What’s up?”

Me: “Not much. I’m good. And you’re right; Obi-Wan’s line was ‘You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.’”

My Crush: “Oh, my God, thank you!” *turns to her friend* “And you call yourself a Star Wars fan.”

(Her friend scowls, but they pay and say goodbye. I watch as they get to the automatic doors. Her friend pretends to use ‘The Force’ on them. Suddenly, my crush jumps in front of her.)

My Crush: “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!”

(I walked over and asked her out. We got married a month ago.)

Ah, Parents…
EDITORS' CHOICE, FAMILY & KIDS, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, SANDWICH SHOP, USA | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 9, 2008
(The phone rings at around six-ish.)

Me: “Hello, this is D-…”

(I hear loud crying in the background.)

Man: “Hello, Disney World? I’m just calling to say that if my children don’t finish their vegetables in the next five minutes, we won’t be visiting you this year.”

Me: “I… er… What?”

Man: *whispering* “Thank you.” *click*

Mission: Impossible
EDITORS' CHOICE, JERK, KEY SHOP | RIGHT | AUGUST 3, 2009
Customer: “I just locked my key in my car in front of the shop.”

Me: *I pick up some stuff* “Not a problem. I’ll pop it open for $5.00.”

Customer: “What are you going to do with that stuff?”

Me: “Open your car.”

Customer: “It’s a brand new Mercedes. I just drove it here from the dealer. You can’t touch it!”

Me: “Then how do I open it?”

Customer: “That’s your problem.”

Me: “Actually, it’s not; I didn’t lock the key in your car.”

Customer: “You have to open it.”

Me: “Watch me not open it.”

Customer: “Okay, then, but if you make any scratch or mark at all then you will have to pay Mercedes to repaint the whole car. That will cost thousands.”

Me: “So, if I’m successful I get $5.00, but if I make the smallest error it will cost me thousands of dollars?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Your car might just be there forever.”

The Wisdom To Know The Difference
AWESOME, CALIFORNIA, FAST FOOD, INSPIRATIONAL, JERK, LOS ANGELES, RESTAURANT, USA | RIGHT | MARCH 1, 2010
(I’m with my wife at a well known fast food place, and they employ a young man with special needs who we both know and are very friendly with. An angry customer accosts him at the register.)

Customer: “S***, they’re taking so f***ing long with my food!”

Employee: “Just a sec, sir…”

Customer: “You’d better!”

(Not three minutes later, the employee comes with the customer’s food.)

Employee: “Here you go, sir.”

Customer: “Where’s the f****** ranch?”

Employee: “Right away, sir!”

Customer: “No, forget it! You’ll probably slobber all over it!”

Wife: “Excuse me, sir, but this young man is doing his job. He’s not doing anything to hurt you, so how about you shut the f*** up!”

Customer: “F*** you, fat a**!”

Employee: “She’s a nice lady! There’s a baby inside her, and she’s not fat!”

Customer: “F*** you!” *storms out, upsetting some chairs*

Wife: *to the employee* “People are so mean to you, honey. I’m so sorry, I can’t believe he said that to you, that a**hole!”

Employee: *grinning* “Don’t worry about it, Jesus and my mama still love me!” *walks away, the happiest man on earth*

In Real Hot Sauce Now
RESTAURANT | RIGHT | NOVEMBER 9, 2010
(I walk in and stand in a line. I’ve been there for all of five seconds before a man runs in, elbows his way to the front of the queue and slams a burger in front of the cashier. She is a young teenager.)

Customer: “You f****** b****! How many f****** times do I have to tell you no f****** sauce?!”

Cashier: *smiling all the way through the exchange* “I’m sorry, sir, what seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “You f****** up my burger! I want a refund now!”

Cashier: “Certainly, sir! Do you remember what time you came in at?”

Customer: “How am I supposed to f****** know? You’re the one who took the d*** order!”

Cashier: “I’ll have a look, sir, if you give me one moment.”

(She taps her screen, all the while being yelled abuse at by the customer. All the other customers have since cleared out, except for me. I motion to the cashier that I’ve called the police.)

Cashier: “Hm… oh, is this your order?” *rattles off a few items*

Customer: “Yes, that’s my d*** order! Now give me my f****** refund!”

Cashier: “Certainly, sir, let me just authorise that for you.”

(She taps on her screen some more and swipes a card a few times.)

Customer: “F****** hurry up, you b****! My f****** dinner’s getting cold!”

Cashier: “My apologies, sir, give me one moment. Would you like me to give you a fresh order?”

Customer: “You’d better, you b****!”

Cashier: *hands customer his refunded money* “Okay, it’ll be three minutes to cook your order so if you’d like to sit down-”

(At this point the man throws the money he’s just been given at the cashier and screams abuse at her. She picks up the change and counts it.)

Cashier: “Your change comes up to £3.71, which is just enough for another meal. Which one would you like?”

Customer: “Would you just hurry up and give me my d*** food! Are you f****** simple or something?”

Cashier: “No, just distracting you ’till the police get here.”

(Two uniformed police officers walk in and take the man away, who is still cursing. The manager walks out of a side room which he has been hiding in–he’s about thirty and male–and offers her a promotion on the spot. She promptly tells him that she’d rather die than be spineless like him and quits. She then pockets the change, grabs most of the food on display and leaves, but not before thanking me and sharing half the food with me.)

Fast Food For Fast Thinkers
EDITORS' CHOICE, FAST FOOD, RESTAURANT | RIGHT | NOVEMBER 18, 2009
(I am working as a cashier and two customers come in talking loudly about how dumb minimum wage fast-food workers are. One of them decides to prove it…)

Customer: “Let me ask you a question. What’s 7 times 7?”

Me: “49.”

Customer: “What’s 8 times 8?”

Me: “64.”

Customer: “E equals MC squared?”

Me: “What about it?”

Customer: “What does it mean?”

Me: “Energy equals mass times the speed of light squared.”

Customer: “Uhm…”

Me: “Would you like fries with that?”

27 Stresses
AWESOME, EDITORS' CHOICE, RETAIL | RIGHT | MARCH 30, 2011
(It is prom season. We have a lot of girls coming in to try on dresses. Three girls have been trying on heaps of dresses. They finally select the ones they want.)

Me: “I see you’ve made your final selection! If you just bring them to the register, I’ll be happy to ring you up.”

(Their mother walks over.)

Mother: “Oh, what lovely dresses!”

Girl: “Yeah. We had to go through a lot of dresses before we found anything decent.”

(The mother gets a weird look on her face.)

Mother, to me: “Excuse me, miss?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am?”

Mother: “Are those the dressing rooms?”

Me: “Yes.”

Mother: “Do you mind if I run in there for a minute?”

Me: “Go ahead!”

(The mother walks in, and sees all the dresses on the floor of the dressing rooms. She comes out fuming.)

Mother: “You girls march right in there, pick up every dress, and hang them back up! Right now!”

Girl: “Why? It’s her job!”

Mother: “I did not raise a bunch of pigs! Get in there now, or you won’t be going to prom!”

A Match Made In Size 7
CLOTHING STORE, RETAIL | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 2, 2009
(A couple walk in, the lady in front, the man trailing tiredly behind. The lady spins around the store.)

Me: “Can I help you with anything today?”

Lady: “I need these pants in size 0, pronto.”

Me: “Who are you getting them for?”

Lady: “MYSELF! What do you think!”

(I get her what she wants, she takes them and goes into a change room.)

Lady: “HEY, these are defective! Get me another pair!”

Me: “May I suggest a bigger size?”

Lady: “Are you saying I look fat? That I can’t fit into these pants?! I’ll have you know, I always wear size 0… these pants must be made wrong! Now get me another pair!”

Man: “Honey, those are really small pants, just try a slightly bigger one.”

(Without a pause, she turns around and slaps the man.)

Lady: “Why can’t you just be on my side! That was so rude! You’re sleeping on the couch tonight!”

Man: “We don’t live together.”

Lady: “What do you mean! We moved in last week… remember?”

Man: “No… we don’t live together.”

(The lady realizes he’s not caving. She flicks a look at me, then tries a different route.)

Lady: “Well, I mean, you’re still sleeping on the couch in your own apartment! To show remorse for disrespecting me. Or else!”

Man: “Or else what?”

Lady: “Or else I’m dumping you!”

Man: “… Okay.”

Lady: “You just–you just like HER, don’t–” *walks out fast, sobbing*

(The man stayed behind and apologized to me. My shift was ending so we went for dinner, and long story short he’s now my fiance! Couldn’t ask for a better man, and I’ve got to thank that lady someday for making it all possible…)

Why Cashiers Should Rule The World
AT THE CHECKOUT, EDITORS' CHOICE, GROCERY STORE, JERK, USA, VIRGINIA | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 12, 2010
(I’m a customer in the check-out line. I’m buying a box of tampons for my mom, who is bedridden after surgery. One of the two customers standing behind me in line speaks up.)

Other Customer: “Ha-ha what a p****. He’s buying tampons.”

(I ignore the two and move forwards to the cashier. She’s an attractive girl of about 20 years old.)

Cashier: “$5.71 after the discount.”

(I have no idea what discount she’s talking about, but I pay her and get my change.)

Cashier: *with a smile on her face* “Here you go, baby, I’m taking my break now and I’ll see you at home at eight. Just leave the tampons in my car, please.”

(She leaned over the counter and kissed me on the cheek. She then turned the light off on the register number and walked off towards the other side of the store. The two customers watched her with their jaws open and angrily walked off to another register.)

Hopefully, She Got The House
CHEATERS, EDITORS' CHOICE, HOTEL, INSTANT KARMA, MARRIAGE & PARTNERS, USA | ROMANTIC | JUNE 5, 2008
Me: “Thank you for calling. How may I help you?”

Guest: “Hi, yes, I’m calling because your hotel charged our credit card twice?”

Me: “Okay, ma’am. If I can have your name, I’ll look you up in the computer and we can get this straightened out.”

Guest: *morphs into an uber-witch in three seconds flat* “Straightened out? D*** right you’re going to get this straightened out! You charged enough for that crappy little room! I’ll be d***ed if we’re paying for it twice! My husband works too hard for his money to be charged double for something like this! There wasn’t even a bar there!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but if I can just have your name and the date you stayed–”

Guest: “That’s just it! I was charged on two separate DATES. My name is [Guest] and my husband and I stayed there on June 9th. There’s another charge on there for the 17th. I want this fixed!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I understand. I’m looking now, ma’am… Okay, I see the problem. You did stay here on the 9th of June. I’m showing that someone by the name of [Husband] stayed on the 17th.”

(There’s dead silence for a moment, and then whispering.)

Guest: “What?”

(At this point my stomach falls into my shoes, because I can hear her mind ticking away, and I know something she doesn’t: another name is listed on the screen with her husband’s for the June 17th stay, and it’s NOT HERS.)

Me: “Um… ma’am?”

Guest: “I see. You’ve been very helpful.”

Me: “Thank you, ma’am. Can I help you with anything else today?”

(At this moment the woman drops the phone but does not hang up, and I hear her begin to scream at someone, swearing in combos I never would have thought up. I hang up quickly and try to go about my business, making a note of it to tell my boss. Later I get another phone call.)

Me: “Thank you for calling. How–”

Guest’s Husband: “I want to talk to your manager, you stupid little b****! You probably just cost me my marriage and I am going to sue your s***-hole hotel for every penny it’s worth! Do you hear me? Do you?!”

Me: *click*

Ain’t No Mountain Wry Enough
AUSTRALIA, BIZARRE, EDITORS' CHOICE, FAST FOOD, MELBOURNE, RELIGION | RIGHT | AUGUST 9, 2010
Me: “…and a large Dew.”

Customer: “I’m sorry, did you just call me a Jew?”

Customer’s Wife: “But honey, you are a Jew.”

Me: “Oh, no, sorry. I meant a large Mountain Dew.”

Customer: “Oh, really? Really, I’m flattered but I’ve never been to the mountains.”

Me: “Ah, sorry?”

Customer: *comically bangs his fists against his chest* “I am the large mountain Jew!”

Customer’s Wife: * to me* “I am so sorry about him. Honestly, I can’t take him anywhere.”

Me: “Really, it’s fine.”

Customer: “The large mountain Jew goes anywhere he wants to!”

Dads: Gotta Love ‘Em
AUTO SHOP, IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS, OVERTIME | RIGHT | AUGUST 25, 2008
(My father owns an auto shop where I sometimes work part time. Late one afternoon, a woman comes in.)

Me: “May I help you?”

Customer: “Yes. I need my car inspected.”

Me: “Well, we’re not taking any more inspections this afternoon. May I schedule you for tomorrow?”

Customer: “No, I want my car inspected now.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we take in our last inspection at 4:00 so we have time to pack up and shut down the machine.”

Customer: “Yes, but I just bought my car from [Dealer] and they told me I could bring my car here to get inspected for free.”

Me: “Yes, they will pay for your inspection here, but we’re closing soon. I’d be happy to schedule you an appointment for another day.”

Customer: “No! This is an outrage! At [Dealer] they told me I could bring in my car ANY TIME to be inspected here!”

Me: “Um… well…”

Customer: “I want my car inspected RIGHT NOW. They told me I could have it inspected any time!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s 4:45 and we are closing in 15 minutes. We don’t have time…”

Customer: “Where is your manager!? I want to speak to your manager!”

Me: “Um… I’m afraid he’s out test driving a car.”

Customer: “That’s unacceptable! Is there anyone else I can talk to? I need to get my car inspected!”

Me: “Hold on…”

(I go out into the shop and check, but sure enough the only other person still here this late is the trainee mechanic. The woman proceeds to yell at us for about ten minutes. Eventually, my dad returns from his test drive.)

Me: “Dad, can you help this woman?”

Dad: “What can I do for you today?”

Customer: “I brought my car here from [Dealer] for an inspection but they won’t give one to me!”

(My dad proceeds to tell her everything I told her, smiling through all her abuse. Eventually…)

Customer: “Fine! This is an outrage! I’m going to write a complaint letter to [Dealer] about you!”

Dad: “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Me: “My God.”

Dad: “Let me give you a little advice about people like that. When somebody gets all worked up at you like that, you need to remain calm. Because the calmer you are, the angrier they get, and it’s REALLY funny.”

The Land Of Milk And Money
BAD BEHAVIOR, BIGOTRY, FARM, MONEY | RIGHT | NOVEMBER 23, 2009
(I am working at a packing house, cutting checks for local dairy farmers who sell us one or two cows at a time. They are given a scale ticket in the barn, which I use to cut a check.)

Me: “Hi, can I have your scale ticket?”

Farmer: “I’d like him to help me.” *points at a USDA associate*

Me: “Sorry, sir, but he doesn’t work for us. He works for the USDA.”

Farmer: “Well, I’d like you to find a MAN who can cut me a check for my cows.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but none of the men that work here know how to cut checks. All our office staff members are women.”

Farmer: “Don’t lie, you little hussy! Only men can run a business! You go back to making coffee!”

Me: “Sir, you run a dairy farm, correct?”

Farmer: “Yeah.”

Me: “And you make money from the milk you sell?”

Farmer: “That’s how a dairy farm works, sweetheart. Now get me a–”

Me: “So, basically, milk is money to you?”

Farmer: “Yes. Now get me a–”

Me: “And does the milk come from male cattle?”

Farmer: “Ha ha! NO!”

Me: *pointed look*

Farmer: *hands me the scale ticket*

Every (Bad) Crowd Has A Silver Lining
BAD BEHAVIOR, COLLEGE & UNIVERSITY, EDITORS' CHOICE, HEALTH & BODY | RIGHT | SEPTEMBER 3, 2009
(When I was in college, I used to work in the cafeteria. On this day, two girls are making fun of a third.)

Mean Girl #1 : “Oooooh, a hamburger? So much for that diet.”

Mean Girl #2 : “Are you kidding? She’s never been on a diet in her life!”

(The third girl who they are talking to is, for the record, very nice looking.)

Girl #3 : *taken aback* “I… I worked out today. I need the protein.”

Me: “Come on, leave her alone. She can eat whatever she wants!”

Mean Girl #1 : “Yeah, I guess you don’t have to worry about what you eat if you’re already fat and ugly!”

(One of my coworkers has been listening from a distance. He walks over, looks all three girls up and down, and then turns to the third.)

Coworker: “Excuse me, miss, but do you think I could get your phone number?”

Girl #3 : “Are you serious?”

Coworker: “Completely! Who wouldn’t want a date with a beautiful girl who knows how to take care of herself?”

(This was five years ago. I’m going to be the best man at their wedding.)

Fighting Fire With Fire
AWESOME, RESTAURANT, WILD & UNRULY | RIGHT | AUGUST 13, 2008
(A father is letting five kids make a complete mess of the restaurant. They’re ripping napkins and using it as confetti, breaking chopsticks, and screaming their little heads off.)

Me: “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to tell them to stop doing that. They are disturbing the other customers.”

Father: *beaming* “No.”

Me: “No, as in, no, you won’t tell them to stop it?”

Father: *still beaming*“Yes.”

(I have to get back to work at this point and sure enough, the kids keep misbehaving. Several customers complain to me but I have no authority to throw them out. The last to complain is a table with about eight young guys.)

Customer #1 : “So there’s nothing you can do about them?”

Me: “I’m so very sorry, sir, but no. I can get you a drink from the house to make up for it.”

Customer #2 : “No, that won’t do.”

Me: “Well, I can see if I can get you a free dessert…”

Customer #2 : “Not what I meant. Can’t you get your boss?”

Me: “I’m afraid he’s not in, sir.”

Customer #1 : “Well, we won’t accept any free stuff. I bet that would come out of your pay.”

Customer #3 : “Hold on…”

(The customer gets up and the others immediately follow him to the noisy, messy table. They’re now surrounded by eight tall, young men who look mighty pissed.)

Customer #3 : *to the father* “Tell them to stop it.”

Father: *still beaming* “No.”

Customer #1 : “You’re upsetting the waitress.”

Father: “Do you guys even work here?”

Customer #1 : “No, we’re from that prison up the street. We’re out on parole. Funny coincidence, we all served seven years for kidnapping and murdering a bunch of noisy brats and a jerk who made minimum-wage waitresses cry.”

(At this point the kids become very, very quiet and the other patrons start giggling and staring.)

Father: “You’re lying.”

Customer #4 : “Wanna take that chance, buddy?”

(One more lecherous grin was enough to send the whole bunch of misfits scurrying to the exit. My knights in shining armor actually got applause from the other diners and a free meal from me.)

Paging Leonidas To The Front Desk
EDITORS' CHOICE, HARDWARE STORE, JERK | RIGHT | SEPTEMBER 18, 2008
Customer: “Look! My friend told me I could get this type of hammer at your store! Now go get it for me!”

Cashier: “Sir, I already told you… We don’t have ANY hammers back here that aren’t already stocked on the shelves.”

Customer: “LOOK HERE. F**K YOU! I KNOW YOU’RE TRYING TO SAVE MONEY BY SWITCHING OUT YOUR STOCKS! GET ME THIS HAMMER!”

(At this point, I come to the front of the store, overhearing what’s going on; note that I’m the manager.)

Me: “Is there a problem?”

Customer: “Yes, sir! Your employee here is not doing what I tell her to!”

Me: “Well, you need to calm down and understand that we don’t have what you’re looking for. So maybe you should go back to shelves and check–”

Customer: “F**K THAT! IT’S NOT THERE, OKAY?! YOU NEED TO F**KING GET ME WHAT I ASK FOR!”

Me: “That’s it. Get out of my store.”

Customer: “What? NO!”

Me: “Sir, get out, or I have to take you out.”

Customer: “Then do it!”

(I go around the counter and approach the customer. I yank him by his collar & drag him to the door.)

Me: “Now, then… you wanna apologize and maybe come back in?”

Customer: “No! I just want my hammer! God, what is this madness?!”

Me: *puts the customer down*

Customer: *confused* “What is it?”

(I turn back to the cashier, who nods in approval. I then turn back to face the customer.)

Me: “Madness? THIS! IS! SPARTAAAAAAAAA!” *kicks customer out of store and slams door*

Factual Innuendos
HARDWARE STORE | RIGHT | OCTOBER 8, 2009
(I’m working as a cashier at a hardware store. A customer comes to my line wearing a floor-length black trench coat, which he is clutching around himself rather suspiciously.)

Me: “Hello, sir, did you find everything alright today?”

Customer: “Would you like to see my bird?” *suggestively nods down toward his jacket*

Me: “Umm, excuse me?”

Customer: “You know, my bird…

(He opens one side of his trench coat, only to show that he indeed has a large green parrot hidden in his jacket.)

Me: *speechless*

Customer: “What, is green not your color? No worries!”

(The customer opens the other side of his trench coat and reveals another large parrot–this one red.)

Me: *still speechless*

Symphony In Underage Minor
EDITORS' CHOICE, MUSIC, MUSIC STORE, ONE-LINER, PARENTS/GUARDIANS | RIGHT | JULY 10, 2009
(I work at a music store which also offers private lessons. There’s a student practicing on a piano when another customer comes in.)

Me: “Welcome to [Music Store]. How may I help you today?”

Customer: “I’d like to buy a piano for my son. He’s starting lessons next week.”

Me: “Digital, upright, or grand?”

Customer: “I just want a piano!”

Me: “Certainly. This is the Roland RD-700GX, which–”

Customer: “Is that girl for sale with that piano?” *points to the girl*

Me: “Uh, no, ma’am. That is a student. She’s just practicing.”

Customer: “Well, I want that girl to teach my son! How much does she cost?”

Me: “Ma’am, she is NOT for sale.”

Customer: “She’s not? But she’s sitting right there! This is false advertisement!”

Me: “We sell pianos, ma’am. Not children.”

Customer: “But it’ll be so romantic to have that playing in the background during meals!”

Me: “Ma’am. For the last time, she is not for sale. Please stop.”

Customer: *walks over to girl* “Hello!”

Girl: “Uh… hi?”

Customer: “How much do you cost?”

Girl: *without missing a beat* “Lady, you must be really desperate if you’re looking for a hooker in a music store!”

Customer: *quickly leaves the store*

Even Bosses Have A Stupid Quota
BOSSES & OWNERS, SANDWICH SHOP, USA | RIGHT | NOVEMBER 19, 2007
Customer: “I’d like pineapple on my sub.”

Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t have pineapple. Only [Other Sandwich Shop] has pineapple.”

Customer: “Yes, you do! I always get pineapple here!”

Me: “I’ve worked here for quite a while, and we’ve never had it. Sorry!”

Customer: “Excuse me, the customer is always right! You can’t argue with me!”

Me: “Um…”

Customer: *to my manager* “Excuse me, your employee is arguing with me! What are you going to do about it?”

Manager: “Don’t be so stupid! Get out of my store!”

Pinheaded, Part 2
BAD BEHAVIOR, EDITORS' CHOICE, GOLF COURSE, HEALTH & BODY, USA | RIGHT | APRIL 28, 2009
(I’m a greenskeeper on a golf course and am doing some work on a green, moving the hole. I pull the pin (flag) out, which is the universal symbol for “the green is closed; don’t shoot.” As I’m doing my work, this happens…)

Member: “Fore on the green! Fore on the green!”

(I look up to see blue sky and a little white speck flying at me. I turn my back and the golf ball hits me square in my one good kidney. I drop like a bag of potatoes, and the member casually strolls up to the green.)

Member: “Are you okay?”

Me: “No, I need to get to a hospital. It hit my good kidney.”

Member: “What the h*** were you doing on the green? You’re not supp–”

Me: “Did you just hear me? I need an ambulance!”

Member: “Don’t interrupt me, you little a**-hole! Now move so I can putt!”

(I grab my radio and get my superintendent, who rushes out in his cart on the phone with 911. After he hangs up, he turns to the member.)

Superintendent: “Didn’t you see the pin was down?! You could have killed him!

Member: “He shouldn’t be on the green during play! It’s his own fault!”

(They continue arguing for a few moments until the ambulance shows up. As the EMT is getting me on a stretcher, she asks the member…)

EMT: “If the pin was down, what were you aiming for?”

Member: “Him.”

Superintendent: “You aimed… for him?”

Member: “I figured he’d be close to the hole. I mean… the pin was down! I had to aim for something!”

Superintendent: “You’re a f****** idiot!”

(I found out later that the member was kicked out of the country club, and his $50,000 initiation fee, as well as his $15,000 yearly dues, were not refunded.)

Not So Sweet Toothed
BAKERY, EDITORS' CHOICE, GROCERY STORE, JERK, USA | RIGHT | APRIL 17, 2008
(The bakery has just closed. I just clocked out, and am on my way out of the store.)

Lady: “Excuse me, could you decorate this cake for me?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. My shift is over, and the bakery is closed.”

Lady: “But I need it done for tomorrow! If you don’t do it, I’ll call your manager!”

Me: “Ma’am, what do you do for a living?”

Lady: “I’m a dentist.”

Me: “Would you like to look at my teeth after your shift ends, for free?”

Lady: “That’s different. My job is hard. Anyone could do your job.”

Me: “Then you won’t mind taking that cake home and decorating it yourself.”

Cutty Out The Attitude
AWESOME, EDITORS' CHOICE, NEW ZEALAND, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, SCHOOL, WORDPLAY | LEARNING RIGHT | NOVEMBER 23, 2009
(I am working in a kindergarten where over half of the kids are Maori. The Maori word for scissors is ‘kutikuti,’ which is pronounced ‘cutty cutty’.)

Me: *to a child* “Can you pass me the kutikuti please?”

Mother: “What did you say to my child?”

Me: “I asked her to pass me the scissors.”

Mother: “Don’t talk baby to my child. She’s smart enough to use adult words.”

Me: “I wasn’t. I was using the Maori name for scissors.”

Mother: “No, you said cutty cutty. That’s not Maori. I’m Maori, and I think I know Maori when I hear it.”

(The child interrupts. She grabs her mom by the hand and drags her off to a poster on the wall which has a few art objects and their Maori names under them.)

Child: “Mom, why do you always have to pick fights with people? I’m very disappointed in you!”

(When her mother left I gave the kid the biggest sticker I could find to put on her good behaviour chart.)

This story is part of the Children-Behaving-Better-Than-Their-Parents roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

14 Times Aquarium Customers Made You Wish You Were Out At Sea





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Suited To The Role
AWESOME, BIGOTRY, BOSSES & OWNERS, CALIFORNIA, CLOTHING STORE, EDITORS' CHOICE, INSPIRATIONAL, SAN FRANCISCO, USA | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 18, 2013
(I work the floor at an independently-owned menswear store. The owner, my boss, spends a lot of time at the shop, and tries to keep prices as low as possible to help our city’s large homeless population get good job interview clothes. A clearly homeless man is wandering around the store. The other patrons are giving him looks.)

Customer: “Excuse me, sir?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am?”

Customer: “I think you may want to call security. That… bum over there, he keeps feeling the suits and muttering to himself. I’m just sure he’s planning to steal one.”

Me: “Well, ma’am, I think that’s quite unlikely.”

Customer: “Oh, come on, you know how they are! I mean, I’d keep an eye on him even if he wasn’t homeless!”

(The homeless man in question happens to be Hispanic.)

Me: “We don’t discriminate here, ma’am.”

Customer: “Well, I’m sure the owner would want to hear about this!”

(I give in and call him over. The customer explains her concerns. As a black man, my boss isn’t happy with her racism, but agrees to talk to the homeless man.)

Owner: “Excuse me, sir, are you finding what you need?”

Homeless Man: “Well, not really. I’m hoping for something versatile in a dark or navy wool, but most of the options in my size are cut American style instead of European, which fits me a little better. Not to mention they’re all pinstriped, which I really don’t have the build for, you know?”

Owner: “I… yes, I understand. I think we may have some options over here, if you’ll follow me. How did you know all that?”

Homeless Man: “Back before I lost my job, I used to be really into this stuff. I’m not looking for anything fancy, just something I can use to look good for a job interview later today.”

(My boss helps him find something he likes, and comes to the counter with him. The suit is priced at $87.)

Homeless Man: *digging in his pockets* “Hang on, I think I’ve got enough.”

Owner: *to me* “Take my card. I’m buying it for him.” *to the homeless man* “Here. The suit’s yours, on one condition. After your interview today, you come back and apply for a job here, too. Got it?”

Homeless Man: “I… oh, my God, thank you. Thank you so much.”

(Two years later, that formerly-homeless man is my manager, and has a little girl with his new wife — the owner’s sister.)

Catcher In The Sky
EDITORS' CHOICE, PET STORE | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 24, 2010
Customer: “How much is this bird?”

Me: “Sir, how did you get the bird out of the cage? The cage was locked.”

Customer: “Oh, I got this one from the birds you have outside by the door.”

Me: “Those aren’t our birds.”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “Sir, you picked up a wild bird. But congratulations, because I can’t imagine it was a simple task.”

I Tremble For Our Children
EDITORS' CHOICE, SCHOOL | RIGHT | MARCH 18, 2008
(A teacher calls me to her classroom. She is trying to project an image on a screen behind a student for a TV camera shot with the projector at eye level in front of the student.)

Teacher: “There is a shadow behind the student now. How can I get rid of that?”

Me: “You can’t. He is blocking the light from the projector from getting to the screen. You could put the projector behind the student, but the image would be smaller on the screen.”

Teacher: “Then what can we do?”

(I get the idea of holding a piece of paper over part of the lens of the projector to create a square area where the student stands where no light would shine. This gives the shadow a bit neater of a shape rather than a human shape.)

Me: “Here, hold this paper over the left side of the lens where the student is standing.”

(The teacher puts a piece of paper RIGHT IN FRONT of the students face.)

Me: “No, right by the lens so a square unlit area will be where the student is standing.”

(The teacher moves the piece of paper and puts it directly BEHIND the students head.)

Me: “No, here…”

(I put the piece of paper in front of the projector lens, leaving a nice square dark area on the screen where the student would stand.)

Teacher: “Well now there is a square there! There is no image directly behind the student, just around the student!”

Me: “Yeah, I know. There is nothing you can do about that, though. It’s the physics of light.”

Teacher: “What if I ask your boss? Think he could do it?”

Me: “No, he cannot bend light around objects.”

Teacher: “Why not?”

Me: “Because he’s not a black hole.”

How To Show-Up A Show-Off
AWESOME, BAD BEHAVIOR, COFFEE SHOP, EDITORS' CHOICE | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 24, 2012
(Note: I’m a male customer at a coffee shop. I’m standing in line behind an obnoxious man and a beautiful blonde woman he’s unsuccessfully trying to chat up. The server is a young woman who appears to be new at her job.)

Man: “Excuse me! I ordered a non-fat, non-sugar, orange mocha chip frappuccino! This isn’t non-fat, and there’s no whip cream on it.”

Barista: “I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll remake it immediately.”

Man: *to blonde woman* “What is up with these guys!? They screw everything up.”

Barista: “Here’s your drink, sir. I hope this one is up to standard.”

Man: “What are you, f****** r*****ed?! This is a plain mocha frappuccino! I wanted an orange chip mocha frappuccino! Get it f****** right!”

(The barista remakes his drink again, but is clearly on the verge of tears.)

Man: “Oh, my God, you people need to learn to speak English! I said non-fat. Don’t tell me it is non-fat, because I can taste—”

(At this point, the blonde woman decides she’s had enough of the man and interrupts him.)

Blonde Woman: *in a strong Irish accent* “WILL YOU STOP BEING A JERK FOR FIVE F***ING MINUTES?! The girl has made the d*** coffee perfectly this time — I watched her! And, even if she hasn’t, she’s young and clearly new at her job. It’s a f***ing coffee! Cut her some slack!”

Man: “Excuse me, but I want what I asked for! I don’t see why that’s so hard!”

Blonde Woman: “She probably looked at you, assumed you were a man, and was therefore completely confused by your non-fat, non-sugar, orange mocha chip frappuccino order. Real men drink real coffee, and they don’t bully teenage girls until they cry. Now, can you please stop being an almighty dickhead, and just f*** off?!”

(Everyone in the coffee shop clapped, and the man left, embarrassed. I paid for the blonde woman’s coffee, and found out she is from the same part of Ireland as me. One thing led to another, and I asked her to marry me this Christmas. She said yes!)

Inter-Screwed
EDITORS' CHOICE, JOB SEEKERS, OFFICE | RIGHT | NOVEMBER 30, 2010
(It’s early morning. I need to organise my notes, so I sit down in the Reception area. The suited guy next to me is looking very nervous.)

Customer: “You’re a bit of a porker, eh?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “You’re really chubby. I mean, they told me they were considering someone else for the position as well. But if you’re all I’ve got to compete with, I’ve got it already!”

(I realise that his pre-interview technique is from some old self-help book about psyching out the competition.)

Customer: “And I was so nervous too! Guess you don’t have much of a chance, huh?”

(I consult my notes.)

Me: “Mr. Becker?”

Customer: “Yeah, that’s me! How’d you know that? You’re here for the job too, right?”

Me: “No, Mr. Becker. I’m Gary Robbins, a technical specialist from Human Resources. I’m here to conduct your interview.”

Grannies: Gotta Love ‘Em
EDITORS' CHOICE, GRANDPARENTS, GROCERY STORE, PARENTS/GUARDIANS | RIGHT | SEPTEMBER 3, 2008
(A new employee informs me that she spotted a little boy sneaking some candy in his pants. I confront the boy and an older woman about it.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am. Hey, kiddo, what’s in your pocket?”

Boy: “Nothing!”

Granny: “Oh, h***, again?! Boy, if you don’t put that d***ed candy back, that lady’s gonna call the police on you! And I ain’t gonna stop her none.”

(The boy, crying, hands me two candy bars and a handful of suckers. I thank the lady, and get back to work. A few minutes later, the boy’s mother comes up to me.)

Mama: “Is that the b****?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Mama: “Ain’t talking to you.”

Boy: “Yes, mama.”

Mama: “Girl, you being rude to my son?”

Me: “No, ma’am.”

Mama: “So why you take away his candy?”

Me: “Because it wasn’t paid for.”

Mama: “Says who? I got him that candy!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s at least 100 degrees outside, and your boy had unmelted chocolate in his pocket. He didn’t bring that in with him. Besides, he was seen taking the candy off the shelf.”

Mama: “What? Who said that?” *turns to the other cashiers* “Which one of you a**holes told on my boy?”

Me: “Excuse me, but that’s not important.”

Mama: “What’s your point, then?!”

Me: “The point is, your boy was caught stealing.”

Mama: “Forget about the d***ed candy, you nosy b****! Ain’t none of your business!”

Me: “Ma’am, your son was spotted shoplifting, which is a crime. You’re lucky I don’t report him.”

Mama: “You stupid b****! I don’t give a flying f*** about the candy!”

(She raises her hands as if to hit me.)

Me: *to Coworker* “Call the manager; he should be in by now.”

(Just then, Granny appears out of nowhere and smacks her daughter with her handbag.)

Granny: “WHAT THE H*** ARE YOU DOING, GIRL?” *continues to smack and berate her daughter* “Upsetting people like that! No common sense! S***! YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THAT!”

Mama: “But, Ma–”

Granny: “SHUT YOUR MOUTH GIRL! GET IN THE D***ED CAR!” *turns to me* “I’m so sorry about that. She’s crazy, I swear to God. She’ll never come back in here; I promise.”

Me: “…”

Granny: *to Mama* “CAN’T TAKE YOUR CRAZY A** NOWHERE! S***!”

(She walked out like nothing happened, and true to her word, I’ve not seen that lady since.)

How To Make Them As Silent As A Mouse
CALL CENTER, EDITORS' CHOICE, PENNSYLVANIA, TECH SUPPORT, USA | RIGHT | MARCH 27, 2011
(I work engineering support late in the evening.)

Me: “Pennsylvania Support Center. How may I help you?”

Caller: “The cleaning crew just came through my office, and now my mouse doesn’t work. The cursor just jumps all over the screen randomly when I move it. They broke my mouse. I need a new one.”

Me: “You have a SPARCstation with an optical mouse, correct?”

Caller: “Yes, with the cool glass mouse-pad.”

(Old-school optical mice used to require special reflective mouse-pads with grids etched into their surfaces. To increase tracking resolution, the vertical and horizontal grids had slightly different spacing.)

Me: “Did the cleaning crew wipe down your desk?”

Caller: “Yes.”

Me: “Did they move your mouse-pad?”

Caller: “What does that have to do with anything?”

Me: “Did your mouse-pad get rotated? Is the long edge of the mouse-pad now parallel to the edge of your desk?”

Caller: “I really don’t see why that’s relevant. I just want a new mouse!”

Me: “The orientation of the mouse-pad matters. The–”

(The caller cuts me off and starts to yell. I realize that I can actually hear his voice coming from down the hall.)

Caller: “Listen! Just open a ticket and have someone bring me a new mouse. I don’t have time for this. I design chips, so I know what I’m talking about. I probably designed the chip in the phone you’re stuck answering all day!”

(I take off my headset, walk down the hall, and walk into his office and up to his desk.)

Caller: “…so don’t try to bulls*** me with– Oh. Hold on. Someone is in my office.”

(I reach down and rotate his mouse-pad 90 degrees. I move the mouse, and the cursor happily moves around the screen as expected. I walk out of his office, back down the hall, sit down at my desk, and put my headset back on.)

Caller: *silence*

Me: “Thank you for calling Pennsylvania Support Center. I trust I have resolved your case.”

Caller: *silence*

Me: “You will be receiving your ticket number via email. Thank you.”

Caller: *click*

Pointless Paranoia, Meet Pistol Packin’
MOVIES & TV | RIGHT | JUNE 1, 2009
(A young man asks for a ticket for an R-rated movie and hands me his ID. I’m about to sell him the ticket when the lady behind him speaks up.)

Lady: “Wait! That picture in the ID doesn’t look like him at all!”

(I look at the ID. It appears he’s been sick since the photo was taken, but it’s clearly the same guy.)

Me: “Well, ma’am, I’m fairly certain that this is the correct ID. Now, if you’d just step up–”

Lady: “No! You can’t sell to someone with a fake ID. He could be a terrorist, for God’s sake! You should call the police!”

Me: “Ma’am, that is definitely not necessary. I am responsible for checking identification, and I–”

Lady: “I need to talk to your manager!”

(I begin to respond, but the guy politely waves me off and turns to the woman.)

Man: “Miss, I have another photo ID here, with a more recent picture. Do you think this matches?”

(He pulls a card out of his wallet and hands it to her. She goes completely white.)

Lady: “Well… um… yes, that’s, uh, fine!”

(She squirms for a moment, then exclaims, “I’ll be right back!” She drops the card and leaves the theater in a hurry. I give the guy his ticket.)

Me: “What was that you showed her?”

Man: “Oh, my handgun permit.”

Bohemian Nobody
EDITORS' CHOICE, MOVIE THEATER, MUSIC, NORTH CAROLINA, PRANKS, USA | RIGHT | MAY 26, 2010
(A customer approaches the service counter.)

Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer: “Is this the real life?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “Is this just fantasy?”

Me: *catching on* “Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality.”

Customer: “D*** it! I was trying to prank you! You shouldn’t know what I’m doing!”

Me: “Doesn’t really matter to me, to meeee.”

Customer: “F*** you!” *storms off*

Friends In Unusual Places
CALL CENTER | RIGHT | SEPTEMBER 26, 2011
Me: “How can I help you today?”

Customer: “I’m looking for a parcel.”

Me: “May I have your tracking number, please?”

Customer: “My what?”

Me: “Your tracking number. All of our parcels have tracking numbers which the sender can give you if you do not have it.”

Customer: “Why don’t you have it?”

Me: “Because I didn’t send you the parcel.”

Customer: “So, who did then?”

Me: “Sir, do you not know who sent you the item?”

Customer: “No, but my neighbor just had something delivered and I want one too. So send me something now!”

(The caller then muffles the phone and I can hear what sounds like sobs.)

Me: “Sir, are you okay?”

Customer: “I’m so lonely and I just wanted to get a present!” *more sobbing*

Customer: “I’m so lonely!”

Me: *speechless*

Customer: “Never mind, I’ll go now…”

Me: “Sir…wait. We do have a parcel for you. I just need to confirm your address to send it to you. It will be there this afternoon!”

(After he gives me his address, I have a quick whip around the call center and we get a card signed by the team, put in a few chocolate bars with other happy bits and pieces, and send it to him. He calls the next day and thanks us all. Now, he rings once a week on average, and we are all happy to chat with him.)