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 its 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, its okay. ”

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

(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 *** 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 *** 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 *** 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 *** 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.”

Me: “Hello! Welcome to [restaurant].”

(I begin pouring water, as is customary at any restaurant.)

Woman: “We didn’t ASK for water.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry ma’am. Should I bring you something else?”

Woman: *sighs* “No! No! No! Fine! Well take the d*** water.”

(I proceed to bring her the food, and she complains incessantly about everything she can think of until finally her entree comes out.)

Woman: “This isn’t what I ordered.”

Me: “Ma’am, this is what you ordered. I can show you the bill… it’s clearly written that this is what you ordered.”

Woman: “No it’s not! I DID NOT ORDER THIS!”

Me: “You did now…”

Woman, to husband: “Come on, let’s leave!”

Husband: “Why? Because you’re being a b****?”

(A father is letting five kind 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 desert…”

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.)

(I work at a vet’s office, and am giving a woman and her three children basic grooming information for their new puppy. The conversation has already been going on for an hour.)

Me: “… the groomers can do different ‘cuts’ or ’styles’ for your dog, depending on how you want him to look.”

Customer: “Will that hurt?”

Me: “Will what hurt?”

Customer: “Cutting him, will it hurt when you cut him?”

Me: “No… it’s not cutting HIM, it’s just cutting his fur.”

Customer: “Oh… but will that hurt?”

Me: “No… it’s hair.”

Customer: “Are you sure it won’t hurt when you cut it?”

Me: “It’s just like when you get your own hair cut. Does it hurt when you get your hair cut?”

Customer: *looks confused*

Me: “Okay… well no, it won’t hurt.”

(I then go on to other aspects of grooming… clipping toe nails, cleaning the ears, etc.)

Me: “… you can clean the puppy’s ears if they get dirty, or just whenever you give him a bath.”

Me: *goes over the ear cleaning process*

Customer: “Will it hurt? ”

Me: “No… he may not like it, and may shake his head, but it shouldn’t hurt. Just make sure you don’t stick anything, like a Q-Tip, into his ear.”

Customer: “Okay, so how do I do that?”

Me: *goes over the ear cleaning process again*

Me: “… and again, just whenever you give him a bath…”

Customer: “Okay, how do I do that? ”

Me: “Well, there are several different shampoos you can use…”

Customer: “But how do I do that?”

Me: “You mean… how do you actually give him a bath?”

Customer: “Yes, how do I do that?”

Me: “Just like you’d bathe your kids… the puppy’s small, so you can bathe him in the sink, or in the bath tub…”

Customer: “But how do I bathe him?”

(At this point, I look at the woman’s three children, and wonder how they’ve survived their mother.)

Me: “Umm… you put water on him… err… you know, we have full-service grooming here, it includes a bath, we’ll do everything for you… cut his toe nails, clean his ears, trim his hair…”

Customer: “But we don’t want to hurt him. Will a bath hurt?”

Me: “It’s WATER!”

Me: “How can I help you, sir?”

Customer: “I want one single cigarette.”

Me: “No problem, can I see your ID?”

Customer: “What? Do I look 14 to you?”

Me: “No, you look 18, but unless I get ID I can’t sell them to you.”

Customer: “Why cant you sell me the beer and a cigarette?”

Me: “I am sorry, sir, but I could lose my job if I sold it to you without ID.”

Customer: “Oh, I am sure your job is sooo great and pays you a lot?!”

Me: “I’m not the one who can’t afford more than one cigarette.”

Related:
Burned

Snooty customer: “I want a milkshake, but I want it made THICK. Last time I had a shake here, it was like drinking ice cream flavored water!”

Me: “I can assure you that I can make you a very thick milkshake, ma’am. What flavor would you like?”

Snooty customer:: “A milkshake! I want a milkshake!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. What FLAVOR of milkshake would you like?”

Snooty customer: “I told you I wanted an extra chocolaty chocolate one!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. One extra chocolaty chocolate milkshake, thick.”

(I fill the milkshake cup with chocolate ice cream and use hot fudge sauce instead of chocolate syrup. I add maybe a tablespoon of milk. I get it mixed up, ring her up and she leaves. A few minutes later she returns, cuts in front of about 10 people waiting in line and slams her milkshake on the counter.)

Snooty customer:: “I want to talk to a manager! I want to know why no one here can do their d*** job!”

Manager: “How can I help you, ma’am?”

Snooty customer:: “I told that girl there I wanted a normal chocolate milkshake, and this is so thick I can’t get it through the straw! I just gave myself a headache trying to drink this thing! I demand double my money back, a free milkshake and some Ibuprofen!”

Manager: “Ma’am, I was standing right behind her when you placed your order. She made you what you asked for. An extra chocolaty shake that was thick. I am not returning your money or giving you a new milkshake.”

Snooty customer:: “But, my husband is Dr. *** and I always get what I want!”

(Suddenly, another customer who has been standing in line and watching the whole thing speaks up.)

Another customer: “Excuse me B****, but Dr. *** is my BROTHER and you sure as h*** aren’t his wife, you d*** liar!”

Snooty customer: *leaves in a huff* 

(My manager gave the other customer her entire order on the house. She deserved it, whether it was true or not.)

Kid: “Mommy, I want this candy!”

Mom: “No, you can’t have the candy. Put it back.”

Kid: “I WANT THIS CANDY!”

Mom: “You can’t have it!”

Kid: “I WANT THIS CANDY!”

(At this point, the mom takes the candy from the kid and hands it to me.)

Mom: *points at me* “The bad man took the candy! You can’t have it because the bad man took it!”

Kid: *in tears* “Why did you take the candy?!”

Me: *speechless*

(Often I enter the beer cooler with shorts, a t-shirt and some rubber-hand work gloves on.)

Me: *walks out of the cooler*

Customer: “Are you f***ing insane? It’s freezing in there.

Me: “I don’t mind it.”

Customer: “That’s bulls***! You know it’s cold. Why would you lie to me?”

Me: “Excuse me? I’m pretty sure I know my own tolerance and I’m working so I get a bit warm, even in there.”

Customer: “WARM!? In a COOLER!? You’re a G**D*** LIAR! How can you be WARM in THERE!”

Me: “I’m Canadian, and ever since my igloo melted I only feel at home in there.”

Customer: “Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry for your loss.”

(I’m the electronics specialist at my store, and all electronic products go through me at some point before they are put out on the floor.)

Customer: “Hi, I’m looking for a video game for my son. Can you find someone to help me with that?”

Me: “Oh, sure. Which game system did you want it for?”

Customer: “Oh no, not you. Can you find someone else? ”

Me: “Well, there’s nobody else in this department right now who has access to the video games. It’s gonna have to be me.”

Customer: “I mean, you’re a GIRL. What do you know? I demand that someone with more… well, I want a guy to help me. I’ll wait.”

Me: “Sure… I’ll call someone to come over.”

(I call over my male co-worker on the walkie who arrives about ten minutes later. My coworker gives me a weird look.)

Coworker: “Okay… what did you need, sir?”

(The customer starts rattling off a ton of technical questions about the compatibility of certain games and accessories, as well as questions about the content of each game.)

Coworker: “Uhh… I don’t really know. You should ask her. She IS the Electronics Specialist…”

Customer: “WHAT?! HOW?! She’s… a… GIRL! Well, I still want you to help me.”

(My coworker and I follow this customer around for about 20 minutes as he asks questions to my coworker, who in turn asks ME. When I answer, the customer tunes out, so that my coworker has to repeat what I said.)

Customer: “Now, was that so hard?”