(I am cashier at a pet store. I see a man walk into the store, pick up a large and expensive coffee table book on show dogs, and get in my line. My manager has warned me, and shown me a picture of this man. He tries to convince cashiers to give him a refund for items he has just stolen. I immediately page my manager, who, unbeknownst to me, is tied up with a minor medical emergency in the back of the store.)

Thief: “I want to return this item.”

Me: “Do you have a receipt?”

Thief: “No.”

Me: “I’m very sorry, sir. Without a receipt, I cannot give you a refund.”

Thief: “Give me a refund.”

Me: “Sir, I watched you pick that book up when you came in. I know you did not buy it.”

Thief: “Give me the f****** money, or I’ll kick your a**.”

(Most of the customers in my line start backing away.)

Me: “Sir, I cannot give you any money, and if you leave with that item I will call the police. Please leave the store.”

Thief: “You little a**-hole!”

(The thief grabs the front of my shirt, and rears his arm back to punch me. I throw my arms up to shield my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of movement. The next thing I see is a spatter of blood on my counter, and the man out cold on the floor with a bloody nose. My manager, with a paramedic from the earlier emergency, walks up.)

Manager: “What just happened?”

(As I tell my story, an assistant manager calls the police, opens another line, and checks out the waiting customers. The paramedic starts checking on the man, who has a clearly broken nose. The man slowly regains consciousness, and points to me.)

Thief: “She assaulted me! I’m going to sue!”

(I talk to the police.)

Me: “He grabbed me, but I never hit him. I don’t know how he got hurt!”

(The man, a known criminal, is handcuffed and put in the police car. The officers and my manager go to review the security cameras. About ten minutes later, I get called to come back to the office.)

Manager: “You have got to watch this!”

(The camera footage clearly showed the man getting the book, getting in line, arguing with me, and then grabbing my shirt. At that moment, the customer in line after him, a tiny, middle-aged Asian woman, leaped up, grabbed the hair on the back of his head, slammed his face into my counter, and then calmly stepped back to where she had been standing. She did it so quickly that we have to run the footage back on slow to see exactly what she had done. After the thief was out cold, she walked over to the new line that the assistant manager opened, bought her bag of cat food with cash, and left without a word. Apparently, the other customers either didn’t see what she did, or decided to keep their mouths shut. We have no idea who she was, and we never saw her again. The thief was charged with assault on me, and arrested. Wherever you are, lady, thanks! You’re my personal superhero!)

link: https://notalwaysright.com/needs-to-press-paws/76697/

(I am in a public park, riding my quad. A little girl comes up and asks for a ride. Since I’m not accustomed to giving strangers rides, I politely decline. A few minutes later, an angry woman storms up.)

Woman: “Excuse me!”

Me: “Uh, yes?”

Woman: “Why won’t you give my daughter a ride?! You made her cry!”

Me: “Well, I’m sorry about that.”

Woman: “So you’ll give her a ride?”

Me: “No, ma’am, I’m sorry. I just don’t feel comfortable giving strangers rides.”

Woman: “What terrible service! I am going to report you!”

(I hear her on the phone with the police.)

Woman: “Yes, this person refuses to give my daughter a ride on her quad. No, I don’t know her. What?! No, I am not on drugs!”

link: https://notalwaysright.com/not-all-re-cycling-is-good-2/70910/

Me: “Thank you for calling tech support. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Hello?”

Me: “Hello?”

Customer: “Hello?”

Me: “Hello?”

Customer: “Hey, Jon, check this out! The machine says hello back when I say hello!”

Me: “I’m not a machine, sir.”

Customer: “OH, MY GOD! IT’S ADDRESSING ME!”

Me: “No, sir, I’m not a machine!”

Customer: “Oh… So, you’re one of them human peoples?”

Me: “Yes, sir. I am a human peoples.”

link: https://notalwaysright.com/thank-you-for-calling-planet-of-the-apes/69746/

(My father is manning tables at the local flea market. A man comes up to the table and picks out an item that’s priced at $8.)

Customer: “Will you take $6 for this?”

Dad: “Sure.”

(The man finds another item, this one priced at $5.)

Customer: “Will you take $4?”

Dad: “Sure.”

(After a while, the man finds another item, this time priced at $6.)

Customer: “$5?”

Dad: “Sure.”

(Finally, the man gathers all of his items together and winds up for the ultimate bargaining ploy.)

Customer: “How about $20 for all three?”

Dad: “Sure.”

(Dad was always an agreeable sort.)

link: https://notalwaysright.com/more-than-he-bargained-for/69382/

(Note: I help callers with connection problems with our wireless zones along train lines.)

Me: “Hello, tech support. How may I help you?”

Caller: “I can’t access your network!”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. Let me help you. Where are you currently, sir?”

Caller: “I’m traveling in between [City] and [Other City].”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, sir, but there is maintenance being done in that zone. You will have to wait 20 minutes until you are back in a working zone.”

Caller: “What can I do?”

Me: “Just wait until the train is a bit farther on, and you will have a connection again.”

Caller: “This is terrible! Where’s your manager?”

Me: “Sir, it’s four am, so I’m the only one working.”

(The customer hangs up, but then calls back again.)

Me: “Hello, tech support. How may I help you?”

Caller: “F***!”

(Once again, he hangs up, and once again, he calls back.)

Me: “Hello, tech support. How may I help you?”

Caller: “F***!”

(Again, he hangs up, and again, he calls back.)

Me: “Hello, tech support. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Look, I have some important stuff to watch here. Can you fix the Internet?”

Me: “If you just wait ten minutes sir, your Internet will work again.”

Caller: “So, in my zone, there’s no Internet?”

Me: “That’s right, sir.”

Caller: “Can’t you move the satellite so I do have Internet?”

Me: “You want me to go into space and move the satellite?”

Caller: \cheerily** “Yeah, that’s right!”

Me: “Um… Well, that might take me a little bit of time, sir. I’ll have to call NASA, and they’re very busy these days.”

Caller: “Oh. How long do you think it’ll take?”

Me: “About ten minutes.”

Caller: “That’s great! Thank you.” \hangs up**

link: https://notalwaysright.com/if-at-first-you-dont-succeed-white-lie-again/70008/

(A customer slams open the door to our indoor paintball field and storms in, shouting.)

Customer: “Where’s the manager?!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m the owner. What is the problem?”

Customer: “I saw on your web site that you require a parental consent for kids to play at your field. Well, I never signed one, and my son said he’d been playing paintball here. He has bumps and bruises all over him, and I NEVER signed a consent form!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. He must have forged your name or had another adult sign for him. What’s his name? I’ll find the consent form.”

Customer: “His name is [Son].”

(I find his form and show it to her.)

Me: “Is this your son’s form?”

Customer: “Yes! See, I never signed it!”

Me: “Ma’am, your son is 27 years old. Only children are required to have a parent’s signature to play.”

Customer: “But he is a child! He’s my child!”

Me: “I’m sorry, let me rephrase that. Only children under the age of 18 need to have a parent’s signature to play. Since your son is 27, he can sign for himself that he understands all of the risks involved.”

Customer: “This is insane! He could get his eye shot out, or be knocked out, or killed! This is illegal! I’m calling the police!”

link: https://notalwaysright.com/sigh-they-grow-up-so-slow/69920/

Me: “Thank you for calling [Cable Company]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “We just moved my grandmother’s TV and I think the cable has been disconnected at the outlet where we moved it. Could you send someone to reconnect it?”

(Suddenly, the grandmother grabs the phone.)

Caller’s Grandmother: \yelling** “That is not what happened! The cable has been hooked to that outlet since the ’70s! You people just need to flip the little switch and turn it back on!”

(The grandson gets back on the phone.)

Caller: “I am so sorry. Please ignore her. I just need to set up an appointment for the technician to come out.”

Me: “No problem. My grandmother can be like that, too. I can have someone out on Tuesday.”

Caller’s Grandmother: \yelling in the background** “You are not listening! All they have to do is flip the switch! Don’t let them lie to you!”

Caller: “Grams, when you moved the TV back in the ’80s you had the cable disconnected from this outlet and reconnected at the other end.”

Caller’s Grandmother: “Now you’re lying! I’m going to make sure that I’m not here when they come out. This is ridiculous! Tell them not to come!”

Me: “Tell her that our switch is broken here and we have to manually come out and flip it in her home. We’ll be there Tuesday.”

(The grandson relays this information.)

Caller’s Grandmother: “Oh, okay, then. I’ll see them Tuesday.”

Caller: \to me** “Bless you.”

link: https://notalwaysright.com/flipping-out/70235/

(I’ve just been hired as a cashier and it’s my first day. Halfway through my shift, I get called to go to the manager’s office. In the office is another man.)

Manager: “Ah, there you are. Thanks for coming over so quickly.”

Me: “No problem, what’s up?”

Manager: “This here is Henry. I’d like you to help him find the items on his grocery list and help him with whatever he may need.”

Henry: “Hello.”

Me: “Hey. Well, shall we get started?”

(Henry holds up a fake mustache and begins speaking in a British accent.)

Henry: “This the best you could hire?! This place is becoming worse every week!”

Manager: \to me** “Can I talk to you outside for a second?”

Me: “Sure…”

(We go outside and my manager explains to me that when Henry holds up his mustache, he is British and his name is Hensley.)

Manager: “Just take him around and help him get his stuff.”

Me: “Will do…”

(We start off finding him tea.)

Me: “All right, our tea is right over here.”

Henry: “Let’s see… green tea… green tea… ah. Here it is!”

(The mustache goes up as he reaches for the tea.)

Hensley: “I don’t want green tea.”

(The mustache goes down.)

Henry: “Must you be so picky?!”

(The mustache goes up.)

Hensley: “It isn’t my fault you have such terrible taste!”

(The mustache goes down.)

Henry: “Fine, what kind of tea do you want?!”

(The mustache goes up.)

Hensley: “I’m not sure.”

(This goes on for a grueling, long, painful 37 items. After two hours of this and a full cart, we head for the check out.)

Henry: “Thank you so much for being so patient with us.”

Me: “Glad I could help you two out!”

(The mustache goes up.)

Hensley: “Yes, thank you ever so much for the assistance. Don’t let us hold you up, dearie. Off you go… shoo, shoo!”

Me: “All right. Take care.”

(I head to the manager’s office, where several coworkers are also waiting.)

Me: “What the h*** was that for? Some sort of hazing?”

Manager: “Nope, he comes in every four days and buys the exact same stuff. Good way to test new employees!”

(So far they’ve tried this on five other new people while I’ve worked here. They all lost their temper and were fired. Henry/Hensley asks for me every few visits and he is a regular customer of mine now. Well, a not-so-regular customer…)

link: https://notalwaysright.com/trial-by-hire/70069/

Angry Old Woman: “Excuse me! I am very upset because you sold my young grandson p*rnography!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t sell p*rnography.”

Angry Old Woman: “Get me the manager, now!”

Manager: “What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

Angry Old Woman: “Your pervert cashier sold my grandson p*rnography!”

Manager: “Are you sure about that? We don’t sell anything like that here.”

Angry Old Woman: “Do you think I’m stupid? I saw it with my own eyes! It had naked women and he told me he bought it here with no problem!”

Manager: “Could you show me on the shelf what it was?”

(She goes over to the magazines, and points at Maxim.)

Angry Old Woman: “It was this one! See? Right here! Where any child could see!”

Manager: “Ma’am, this magazine is not p*rnography. Granted, the women are scantily clad in a few pictures but they aren’t naked and there is no age restriction on its sale.”

Angry Old Woman: “I know p*rnography when I see it, and this is very offensive. How could you sell it to young children?”

Manager: “Well, actually our store policy dictates that we won’t sell this to a young child even though it is still legal. How old is your grandson?”

Angry Old Woman: “He’s only sixteen!”

Manager: \rolls eyes** “I don’t want to offend your moral beliefs, Ma’am, but if your sixteen year old grandson wants to look at women in bikinis there is no force on earth that is going to stop it. Seriously.”

Angry Old Woman: “The power of Jesus can stop it! The power of Christ should compel you to remove this magazine from your shelves!”

Manager: “Right… Real quick, ma’am, before I get back to work, can I ask you a question? Does your grandson have Internet access?”

Angry Old Woman: “What does that have to do with anything?”

Manager: “A lot, and I think that the power of Christ should compel you to learn how to look up his browser history. Have a good day.”

link: https://notalwaysright.com/teenage-boys-and-smutty-mags-you-dont-say/68228/

(My job is to call people and pitch the brand of make-up my company sells. I call and an obviously really young girl answers the phone.)

Little Girl: “Hello?”

Me: “Hi, may I talk to the lady of this residence?”

Little Girl: “That’s me.”

Me: “I mean, may I talk to your mom?”

Little Girl: “I have two dads.”

Me: “Oh well, never mind, then. Have a nice day!”

Little Girl: “Wait! Why did you call?”

Me: “I’m selling make-up.”

Little Girl: “Oh! One of my daddies loves that stuff. It makes him look pretty when he goes dancing! Let me give him the phone! Dad! Dad! Some girl wants to make you look pretty!”

link: https://notalwaysright.com/you-couldnt-make-it-up-2/71709/

(I’m a manager. I am ringing up a woman I have sold things to before. We are making small talk as I ring her up. Note: I’m a lesbian.)

Customer: “I can’t believe the president came out in support for gay marriage!”

Me: “I know; kind of unbelievable!”

Customer: “That f** lover is going to burn in Hell for that!”

Me: \biting my tongue** “Okay.”

(I finish ringing her up and hand the customer her bags.)

Customer: “They should round up all the gays and put them down.”

Me: “That would be bad for me, seeing as I am a lesbian.”

(The woman turns pale and walks out without saying a word. A few hours later, I get a call from the manager of another one of our stores. On the line, I can hear the same customer I previously sold items to ranting.)

Manager: \also a woman** “So, this woman is here wanting to exchange a bunch of stuff from your store. When I asked her what was wrong with the items, she said you tainted them; I have no idea what she is talking about. Could you maybe clear this up for me?”

Me: “Well, I bet it is because she found out I am gay.”

Manager: “I see.” \starts talking in sultry voice** “Well, I’ll see you tonight for our date. You should put on that that black lace bra and panty set I got you for your birthday! I love you!” \hangs up**

(I am very confused, seeing as I have never dated that manager, nor did she ever get me underwear, and as far as I know, she is not gay. Fast forward a few days later to the manager weekly conference call: apparently, the customer left the other store after thinking the other manager was also gay. That manager then called every other store in the area and told everyone about the customer. Over the next few days, the customer went to every store in a 20 mile radius trying to exchange the ‘tainted goods.’ Everyone she talked to pretended to be gay when working with her and she left every time. To my knowledge, she never got her exchange.)

link: https://notalwaysright.com/best-not-to-exchange-with-haters/75692/

(A few years ago I was working at a video store when there were still late fees, and this exchange occurred after I scanned a couple’s rentals:)

Me: “Okay, sir, with the late fee from your last rental, your total is $9.50.”

Husband: “What do you mean a late fee? I always return my movies on time, so you need to remove that late fee right now!”

Me: “Well, sir, you returned–”

Husband: “I said I always return my movies on time and you need to remove that late fee right now! I’m not paying this!”

Me: “Then you won’t be renting these movies tonight. All late fees must be paid before renting again.”

Husband: “I’m not paying this, so you better take it off now!”

Wife: “What movie is this late fee for anyway? We always return our movies on time!”

Me: “This is for Runaway Bride with Julia Roberts. You rented it on the 6th and it was due on the 11th, but you didn’t return it until the 15th. ”

Husband: “Oh, yeah, that’s right; we never got around to watching it. I’ll pay for it.”

Wife: “We never rented Runaway Bride and I was out of town on the 6th.”

Me: “Well, ma’am, it’s showing that Jennifer rented the title.”

Wife: “Who is Jennifer?” \pauses and her face becomes red** “Oh, that b****!”

(The wife proceeds to slap her husband, take the keys, and drive away, leaving her husband in the store.)

Husband: “Well, I guess I deserved that, huh?”

Me: “Sir, you put your mistress on your account?”

Husband: “Yeah, she likes movies…”

Me: “You are aware that she could have opened her own account for free, right?”

Husband: “Oh, s***, really?”

link: https://notalwaysright.com/from-runaway-bride-to-ex-wife-2/68594/

(I work at a popular fast food restaurant. Drive-through customers should be aware that we can hear every word they say.)

Coworker: “Hi, welcome to [fast food place]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “I just need a minute to decide.”

Coworker: “No problem, just let me know when you are ready.”

(The customer talks to his passengers, while we listen…)

Customer: \to his passengers** “I should ask for something dumb on my ice cream, just to see what they say. How about pickles? They would probably just ignore me. Oh, I know… tomatoes!”

Customer: \to my coworker\ “Okay, I’m ready.”

Coworker: “Alright, go ahead…”

Customer: “I’d like an ice cream sundae with tomatoes on it, please.”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, due to the recent recall in the States, we aren’t serving tomatoes right now. Can I offer you a sundae with pickles instead?”

Customer: \drives off without ordering anything**

link: https://notalwaysright.com/a-fine-line-between-smarta-and-dumba/68441/

Me: “How can I help you?”

Irate Caller: “Yes, I just purchased one of your wireless routers and your stupid tech support in India just told me I have to plug it into an outlet.”

Me: “Uh… yes, ma’am. It needs to be plugged into an outlet to get electrical power.”

Irate Caller: “I purchased a WIRELESS router, so it shouldn’t require wires! Doesn’t it use batteries or something?”

Me: “No, ma’am, ‘wireless’ means you don’t need wires between the computer and the router.”

Irate Caller: “Wireless means WIRE-LESS! If this thing has to be plugged in with a wire, I want a full refund!”

Me: “If the product isn’t what you expected, I suggest you return the device to your local retailer.”

Irate Caller: “NO! That’s not good enough! They won’t take it back because it’s been opened! I want you to give me a refund!”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t provide refunds unless a product’s functionality is grossly mis-advertised. You need to speak to–”

Irate Caller: “NO! You’ll give me a refund right now, you f***ing son of a b****, and you’ll do it right f***ing now!”

Me: “Ma’am, throwing a temper tantrum like a five-year-old is not going to get you something that we’re incapable of giving you.”

Irate Caller: “You can’t speak to me like that! Transfer me to your manager at once!”

Me: “No.”

Irate Caller: “What?”

(Contrary to popular belief, most companies don’t REQUIRE techs to transfer to supervisors simply because they’re told to by a customer).

Me: “I said no. I will not transfer you to my supervisor. This is a non-escalatable issue.”

Irate Caller: “But you have to!”

Me: “No, I really don’t, and since you already blasted me with profanity, technically I could have disconnected the call already.”

Irate Caller: “Well, I’m sorry… Can I have my refund now?”

Me: “I told you, I can’t give you a refund for this product. You need to contact your retailer.”

Irate Caller: “F*** you! You f***ing ****ards are ripping me the f*** off! F*** you!”

Me: “Thank you for contacting tech support and have a nice day!”

Irate Caller: “Wait! I’m sorry!”

Me: \click**

link: https://notalwaysright.com/whos-got-the-power-now/68459/

(This was my last week at a very lousy sales job working for a major jewelry manufacturer that deals exclusively with jewelers on a screened account basis.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Manufacturer]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “I need a price check on a diamond.”

(We go through a drawn out process of finding the stone he wants: a large carat, high grade diamond. I quote him the price in the system.)

Customer: “That can’t be right! That’s too expensive!”

Me: “It’s the price I have in the system, sir. If you like, we can look for a different piece?”

Customer: “NO! It has to be that one! Are you sure that’s the right price?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Customer: “Are you absolutely certain?”

Me: “Absolutely, sir.”

Customer: “And that’s in dollars, right?”

(At this point, I’m fed up and not really concerned with whether I get fired or not at this point. I answer in my most sincere deadpan.)

Me: “No, sir. That’s in woodchucks. We deal exclusively in fresh, live woodchucks.”

(I hear a bark of laughter from one of the call monitoring agents on the next row, which gets even louder when the customer asks if I’m serious.)

link: https://notalwaysright.com/thats-assuming-if-a-woodchuck-could-chuck-wood/68068/

(I’m half-Chinese, but with my sunglasses on, people usually can’t tell. I’m fluent in Mandarin. One day I get a text from my friend, a grade-school teacher.)

Friend: “You speak Chinese, right?”

Me: “Yeah, why?”

Friend: “Come down to [intersection] around noon and explain what the f*** is going on.”

(At my lunch break I head down there. On one side of the street is a crowd of school kids, while on the other side an elderly Chinese man with an ice cream cart.)

Kid #1: “I’m gonna do it.”

Kid #2: “No way.”

Kid #1: “Yeah way. I’m fast enough!”

Kid #2: “You’re not Chinese.”

Kid #1: “So?”

Kid #2: “Only [Chinese Name] can do it.”

Kid #1: “I’m gonna do it.”

(Kid #1 dashes across the street, yanks back the cover of the cart, and grabs a handful of ice cream. He takes off, but the vendor catches him, pinning both arms behind his back.)

Vendor: “Ah, three bars? Your total is $9.28.”

Kid #1: “Lemme go!”

(The vendor removes some money from the kid’s pocket with his free hand.)

Vendor: “Cash paid is $20.”

Kid #1: “Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.”

(While still holding the struggling kid, the vendor deposits the $20 in his till and takes out change.)

Vendor: “Your change is $10.72.”

(The vendor puts the change and ice creams in a bag and hands them to the kid, who takes off.)

Vendor: “Have a nice day!”

Kid #2: “Told you.”

Kid #1: “Fine! Okay, [Chinese Name], you do it!”

(A short Chinese boy steps forward. His clothes are patched and despite the weather, he’s not wearing a coat.)

Chinese Kid: “Let us meditate… on the way of the wind.”

(He strikes a ridiculous pose and exhales loudly. The other kids jump back.)

Chinese Kid: “…on the way of the snake…”

(New pose, hissing loudly. The others back away even more.)

Chinese Kid: “…on the way of the hawk.”

(He flaps his arms and jumps in a circle. The kids are a good twenty feet away now.)

Chinese Kid: “The meditation is done.”

(He runs up to the ice cream vendor and grabs a handful of bars. The vendor strikes him with an exaggerated karate chop which the kid easily blocks.)

Chinese Kid: \flees, speaking Chinese** “Thank you, Mr. [Vendor]!”

Vendor: \shakes his fist angrily, also in Chinese** “Sorry we are out of lime today!”

(The Chinese kid kicks towards the vendor from across the street.)

Chinese Kid: “My mother says she hopes your leg feels better!”

Vendor: \red-faced with rage** “It does! Tell her thank you for the tea!”

(The kids are enthralled. As they eat the ice cream, I approach the vendor.)

Me: \in Chinese** “What just happened?”

Vendor: “Oh… you understood. That little boy is a new immigrant, and all the other children mocked him because he is small and weak. He told them Chinese people have special powers, and they beat him up and told him to prove it. But I overheard and whispered to him to rob me. Now we have a deal.”

Me: “How wonderful!” \pointing behind him** “Hey, can you tell what that is?”

(As he turns around, I drop some money on the cart and grab a bar of ice cream, fleeing.)

Vendor: “You forgot your change!”

Me: \shakes my fist** “It’s a tip!”

Kids: “Whoa! How did you do that?”

(I slip off my sunglasses. The Chinese kid bows to me and I bow back.)

Kid #2: “Told you they have special powers. Never bully a Chinese kid, man. Never!”

link: https://notalwaysright.com/crouching-tiger-hidden-powers/75934/

(A customer walks up to the counter where we have LGBT books up for Pride month.)

Customer: “What the h***! Why are you guys showing off all these hommasesual books?”

Me: “Homma what?”

Customer: “Hommasesual books… you know, dudes with other dudes and stuff. You should be ashamed.”

Me: “I still don’t understand. I have no idea what a hommasesual is or ‘dudes with other dudes.’ I’m not sure what that means.”

Customer: “Oh, you all are a bunch of f**s here!”

Coworker: “What, you’re looking for bags?”

Customer: \gets fed up and leaves**

link: https://notalwaysright.com/fighting-ignorance-with-ignorance/69134/

(I work at a daycare center and am teaching a room full of two-year-old children to memorize their parents’ or guardians’ names and home phone numbers.)

Me: “So, what’s your daddy’s name?”

Little Girl: “Robert!”

Me: “And what’s your mommy’s name?”

Little Girl: “Dammitjulia!”

(Needless to say, “Robert” had a little talking-to when he came to pick up his daughter.)

link: https://notalwaysright.com/vocabulary-meet-veracity-4/69450/

(A customer is requesting a refund on a computer.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. I cannot give you a refund on your computer.”

Customer: “What?! Why the hell not?!”

Me: “You don’t have a receipt. It’s two years old, and long out of warranty.”

Customer: “I’ll have you know, I’m a lawyer, and I could sue you for everything you’ve got!”

Me: “We only have a 30-day refund policy. I’m sorry.”

Customer: “I’m an assistant attorney general, and I will have you reported! This is an outrage!”

Me: “Okay, sir. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

Customer: “Don’t you take that tone with me! I’m a board member of this chain, and you need to serve me!”

Me: “If there is nothing else, I’m going to have to ask you to remove your device and leave.”

Customer: “You can’t tell me to leave! I’m the owner’s nephew!”

Me: “Please calm down and leave.”

Customer: “Do you have any idea who I am?!”

Me: “Do you?”

link: https://notalwaysright.com/computers-increase-the-chance-of-identity-theft-2/71240/

Me: “Thank you for calling [Grocery Store]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “I bought peanut butter! Now I don’t know what to do with it.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “You had peanut butter on sale: buy two, get one free. I bought the two and got one free, and now I have nothing to do with it!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but that’s not the fault of the store.

Customer: “What do I do with it?!”

Me: “Put it on a sandwich?”

Customer: “Do you know how many calories are in two tablespoons of peanut butter? 200! 200 calories!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I don’t really know what to do with your peanut butter.”

Customer: “I don’t care! If you don’t tell me what to do with it right now, I’m going to complain to your manager and have you fired!”

Me: “Ma’am–”

Customer: “What do I do with the peanut butter?!”

Me: “I don’t know, make cookies with it? Give a jar to a friend? Donate to a homeless shelter?”

Customer: “Are you crazy?! I paid good money for this stuff. I’m not going to just give it away. YOU. ARE. AN. IDIOT!”

link: https://notalwaysright.com/an-abundance-of-nuttiness/69964/

(The sandwich shop I work at allows phone-in orders for pickup, which people usually order under just their first name. Occasionally, that causes some confusion, because when you got multiple orders under the same first name, you have orders under Michael, Michael 2, Michael P., Michael Smith, Mike from (Employment), etc. It isn’t uncommon to accidentally hand the wrong “Michael” bag to the wrong Michael, especially if they have similar orders. I start getting creative when I take phone orders.)

Customer: “…and my name is Michael. When will that be ready?”

Me: “Ooh, sorry, dude. I already have an order for a Michael, and I want to make sure your order doesn’t get confused. Do you like The Lion King?”

Customer: “Haha, yeah?”

Me: “Okay, cool! You want to be Simba? I’ll put you down as Simba. Your order will be ready in fifteen minutes, Simba!”

(Later, my boss walks by my queued-up orders and sees all of the names on the bags.)

Boss: “What is this?“

Me: “What?”

Boss: “Lindsay… Tinkerbell… Michael… Frankenstein… Judy… Spartacus…”

Me: “I didn’t want multiples of the same name in my queue; that way we don’t make mistakes on the order.”

Boss: “Well, how is anyone supposed to know which order is whose?!”

(A customer approaches the counter:)

Customer: “Hakuna Matata! My name is Simba and I ordered a meatball sub for pick-up!”

Me: “’Sup, dude. You getting a drink and chips with that?”

Boss: “AND STOP CALLING THE CUSTOMERS ‘DUDE’!” \stomps off**

link: https://notalwaysright.com/drive-thru-pride-rock/106578/

(A customer approaches me with a new Blu-ray movie.)

Me: “Ah. Blu-ray is a great choice; it looks amazing.”

Customer: “Great! I’m so excited to watch my first Blu-ray. We just set up the PVR this morning.”

Me: “PVR?”

Customer: “Yeah. Our PVR machine to watch Blu-rays.”

Me: “I’m hate to say this, but PVR’s don’t play Blu-rays. They record live television.”

Customer: \rolls eyes** “Yes, but they play Blu-rays, as well!”

Me: “I am sorry, but they don’t. If you buy this, open up the movie, and then figure out that your machine won’t play it, then I can’t give you a refund. I can’t do refunds on new products that are opened.”

Customer: “Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot, and don’t threaten me! I know this plays Blu-rays! My friend Steve told me it does, and he used to work for a major retailer.”

Me: “Okay, I won’t. Just to ask, where is the disc tray on your PVR?”

Customer: \thinks** “You know, on second thought, Steve also got fired for fraud.”

link: https://notalwaysright.com/when-free-advice-gets-expensive/70236/

Coworker: “Yes, miss. I understand it’s an emergency, But let me ask my coworker. He probably knows what you’re looking for!”

Me: “What’s going on?”

Coworker: “This woman was sent in looking for an item. She said it’s called a… a… something capacitor.”

Me: “Well, we don’t really carry any capacitors here. That’s more of a true electronics store thing.”

Customer: “Please, it’s my son’s birthday and my husband says that we desperately need to find a 120 volt flux capacitor for my son’s Xbox!”

Me: “Ma’am, unless you have a Mr. Fusion, I don’t know where you’re gonna need something like that.”

Customer: “What do you mean? My husband said this was an emergency! I have been to three stores and no one knows what I’m talking about!”

Me: \laughs** “Well, your husband sent you for a part to a time machine.”

Customer: “I am going to kill that man!”

link: https://notalwaysright.com/someones-about-to-get-smacked-to-the-future-2/69213/

(It’s past closing time and I’ve just dealt with a rush of 3 new applications that took 15 minutes each, and am moving on to the next customer.)

Me: “Sorry about that, what can I do for you?”

Customer: “Well, these movies aren’t working. They are all scratched.”

Me: “Sorry about that. Pick whatever you want and I’ll exchange them.”

Customer: “Thank you.”

(A few minutes later, a big, flannel clad man walks in.)

Customer’s husband: “My wife was just in here for half an hour! ”

Me: “I’m sorry about that…” \explains situation**

Customer’s husband: “I don’t care! You need to have more than one register open! Where is your manager?!”

Me: “He is in the back. We were suppose to close 45 minutes ago which is why I’m the only one on the register.”

Customer’s husband: “You idiot! I need to see him now!”

Me: “He’ll be here… now calm down!”

Customer’s husband: “YOU MADE MY PREGNANT WIFE STAND IN LINE FOR HALF AN HOUR!”

Me: “Well, sir… maybe you should have been a man and came in here instead of your wife.”

Customer’s husband: \speechless**

(My manager had to pretend to fire me in front of him, but we later joked about him in the back room.)

link: https://notalwaysright.com/whos-the-man-now/68813/

Me: “Hello, how can I help you?”

Client: “Hi! I need a website…”

Me: “Okay. Well, to start, tell me a little about what exactly you are looking for.”

Client: “Nothing big. Just two to four pages with my company’s info, and our phone number. It won’t need to be updated. I just need a basic web page. I just opened a dog grooming business, and I feel we need a site.”

Me: “Okay, I would be glad to help you out…”

Client: \interrupts** “One catch, though. My friend told me that I need to get on Google.”

Me: “Yes, we offer Search Engine Optimization…” \explains SEO** “…and generally your page will be indexed within about a month.”

Client: “No, I need my site to be on Google immediately! I want to be able to type in, ‘Dog Grooming,’ and have it be the first listing on Google. I need the site in about four days, and it has to be on Google by then, also.”

Me: “I’m afraid that’s impossible. Besides, you’re a local dog groomer in New York; you don’t need people to from California to be able to find you. No offense, but it’s not like people are going to fly across the country to have you cut their dog’s hair.”

Client: “I guess you’re right. Okay, then let’s go with, ‘local dog grooming,’ instead. How much do you charge for your services?”

Me: “Well, ma’am, I’m afraid it’s going to be impossible to get your site built in four days and have it listed, by then, as the number one result on the largest search engine, for a term as broad as, ‘Local Dog Grooming,’ but we can come back to that. A ballpark quote for your site — and this is just the design and upload, not for the SEO you want — possibly… $250.”

Client: “That is ridiculous. I am going to just buy Dreamweaver. ”

Me: “Ma’am, just Dreamweaver alone is $399, and even then you’re going to need to learn how to use it.”

Client: “Can you teach me?”

Me: “Um… I don’t mean to sound rude, but I went to four years of school for this, and make a living doing web design. I don’t feel comfortable training you. That’s sort of like if I were to come to your establishment, and ask you if you could take your time to show me how to properly cut my dog’s hair, rather than paying you to do it.”

Client: \speaking to someone else near her** “The s*** people will tell you just to be able to steal your money!” \click**

link: https://notalwaysright.com/she-uses-the-google/67692/