They Call Me Names
TECH SUPPORT | RIGHT | MARCH 1, 2013
(I overhear a phone call another agent is having with a customer for technical support.)
Agent: “Hi, my name is [name]. Can I get your name and your TID please?”
Caller: *says something*
Agent: “Your name.”
Caller: *says something*
Agent: “Your N… A… M… E.”
Caller: *says something*
Agent: “NAME. N… A… M… E…”
Caller: *says something*
Agent: “No, your name.”
Caller: *says something*
Agent: “Okay, what do people call you when they want your attention?”
Caller: *says something*
Agent: “What did your mother call you when you were born?”
Caller: *says something*
Agent: “Forget that, what’s your station number?”
Caller: *says something*
Agent: “What’s the phone number at your site?”
Caller: *says something*
Agent: “This isn’t working, how about we just end the call now? Get someone that speaks English since the rest of the questions I will have for you are just going to get harder.” *hangs up*
Chilly Reception
MOVIES & TV, SARCASM, USA | RIGHT | APRIL 3, 2009
(I was working at the kiosk where we sell sweets and drinks when this transaction occurred with an old woman over the bottled water.)
Customer: “Is that water cold?”
Me: “Yes, it’s just out of the fridge.”
Customer: “I don’t see a fridge.”
(I gesture towards the fridge a few feet away from the kiosk.)
Customer: “Can’t I just have one out of there?”
Me: “Yeah, of course.”
(I fetch her one out of the fridge.)
Customer: “That doesn’t look too cold to me.”
Me: “…well, you can feel for yourself, if you like. It really is quite cold.”
Customer: “No. You do it.”
(I put my hand against the bottle and then pretend to flinch.)
Me: “You’re right, ma’am, it’s boiling hot. I’m very sorry about that.”
Assault And Battery
COMPUTER REPAIR, MASSACHUSETTS, STUPID, TECHNOLOGY, USA | RIGHT | SEPTEMBER 3, 2010
Customer: “Hi, I think I have a problem with my computer. I tried fixing it myself, but now it’s just not booting at all. I’d like to have it backed up, too, while you’re at it, because I run a business and I can’t afford to lose anything.”
(The next day, I call the customer.)
Me: “Hello, sir, was this the only copy you had for your business data?”
Customer: “Yes.”
Me: “Well, do you have any disgruntled employees that may have had access to your computer recently?”
Customer: “No, why?”
Me: “Well, sir, the hard drive has been hacked at with what looks like a flat-head screwdriver, severing a connection on the bottom. It appears very deliberate, and we won’t be able to retrieve your data.”
Customer: “Do you mean the battery?”
Me: “No, sir, the hard drive.”
Customer: “Oh. I thought that little round thing on the bottom of the hard drive was a battery. I was just trying to replace it. Well, I’ll just come in and pick that up.”
Customer: “Very good, sir.”
(Four minutes later, he calls back.)
Customer: “Just a quick thing: if my wife comes in and asks about it, could you leave that part out?”
The People Of England Wholeheartedly Agree
FUNNY, GAMES, USA, VIDEO GAME STORE, WORDPLAY | RIGHT | MAY 14, 2009
Customer: “How do you change the language setting on The Sims?”
Me: “Well, I’d imagine there’s something in the game’s options. What did you need to set it to?”
Customer: “English.”
Me: “Funny, I’d think that would be the default.”
Customer: “But I can’t understand them!”
Me: “Wait, you mean the Sims themselves?”
Customer: “Yes! They’re speaking French!”
Me: “No, they’re speaking Simlish. It’s a gibberish language.”
Doesn’t Live In The Real World
RETAIL | RIGHT | JUNE 1, 2014
(I’m the manager of a watch store in a mall. I am taking care of some display work when a couple walks up to my kiosk.)
Me: “Hi there! Is there anything I can help you find today?”
Customer: “Hey. No, thanks. I think we’re just looking.”
Me: “Okay, sounds good. Just let me know if you have any questions.”
(I go back to my display work and the couple wanders around the booth. As they come closer to me I notice the man is looking confused. I’m about to ask him if there’s something I can clear up for him when he speaks up.)
Customer: “Are any of these watches real?”
Me: “I… What?”
Customer: “These watches you’re selling. Are any of them real?”
Me: “Yes, sir. All of my watches are 100% authentic time pieces.”
(Meanwhile, his wife is snickering.)
Customer: “No, I mean are any of these real gold?”
Me: “I’m afraid not, sir. Seeing as I am in a kiosk in the middle of a mall, I do not have the security systems in place for me to sell genuine gold watches, which often start at several thousands of dollars.”
Customer: “Oh, but what about this one right here? It looks like it would be a real gold watch.”
Me: “No, sir. That watch is gold colored plating over base metal, mostly nickel. It runs $39.95.”
Customer: “Oh. But are those real diamonds on it?”
Me: “… No. I think they’re glass or plastic.”
Customer: “You sure you don’t have anything real in the back?
Me: “I’m a kiosk, sir. I don’t have a ‘back.'”
Customer’s Wife: *outright laughing now* “I am so sorry. You have been so patient!”
(She drags him away. A manager at the next store who has observed this and is in hysterics.)
An Unspeakable Offense
BOSSES & OWNERS, HEALTH & BODY, JERK, NEW YORK, OFFICE, USA | WORKING | MARCH 27, 2018
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.
(I am at work one day and suddenly I am unable to speak. I am taken to the hospital in an ambulance. At first the doctor thinks that I am having a stroke; however, it ends up being diagnosed as a migraine with expressive aphasia. This happens when I return to work on Monday
Boss: “I need to speak to you in the office.”
Me: “Okay.”
Boss: “So, I need to talk to you about you leaving work early. Normally, that would be a fireable offense, since you are a new employee, but I decided to write you up, instead. Keep in mind that if it happens again, we will have to let you go.”
Me: “Um, the only time I have ever left early was the other day… in an ambulance. I have been early every other day, and have left on time every day.”
Boss: “Oh, I know. But you left early the other day. That is not okay.”
Me: “I left early. In an ambulance. Which you called.”
Boss: “Yes, but you still left early. Please sign this.”
(I am handed the write-up, which states that I left early, and if I do so again I will be fired. It does not say why I left early.)
Me: “I’m not signing this. It makes it sound like I left early just because, not because of a medical emergency.”
Boss: “Well, if you don’t sign it, then I am afraid that we will have to let you go.”
Me: “That’s fine. Here is my badge; I quit.”
Boss: “Wait, what? You need to give me two weeks notice.”
Me: “Actually, two weeks notice is just a courtesy, just like not writing up employees who have medical emergencies is a courtesy. Have a nice day.”
Fanny Whack
BIZARRE, DELI, EDITORS' CHOICE, FUNNY, HOUSTON, TEXAS, USA | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 17, 2011
(A customer walks in. His clothes are a bit mismatched and he’s wearing a fanny pack. The eyes are bloodshot and he’s sporting a huge smile on his face. I’m relatively new at this point.)
Me: “Hi, sir, welcome to [Deli]. How can I help you today?”
Customer: “Um, yeah, can I get some monkey brains?”
(He’s completely serious if a little under the influence, so I go with it.)
Me: “Sorry, sir, we’re fresh out today. Truck comes tomorrow.”
Customer: “Dang, how about some mermaid?”
Me: “Mermaid isn’t in season yet, sir, but our tuna is pretty good.”
Customer: “Bummer. Well, how about your brownies? They got pot in them, right?”
Me: “No, sir, we switched bakeries just last week.”
(After ordering about half of our menu and asking if everything that had a green dot next to it [indicating something organic] has pot in it, he pays and eventually leaves. I’m left in tears as I’m laughing so hard. When my manager asks me what’s going on, I explain what happened.)
Obama And Aliens And Popes, Oh My
RETAIL | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 11, 2014
(I am starting to shut down my food cart. It has a ‘Now Hiring’ sign, which lists the wages. A man in his 40s walks up to take a food sample.)
Customer: “You know, if you lived in North Dakota you could get an easier job at $15/hour.”
Me: “Uh, that’s nice.”
Customer: “But that’ll change when Obama takes over the country. The wages will drop then.”
Me: “… That’s okay. I’m actually planning on moving to Canada in the next couple of years.”
Customer: *suspicious look* “Canada… You know who I’d trust to run my health care?”
Me: “No?”
Customer: “You. But I wouldn’t trust the Government. They’re shady.
Me: “Yeah. The government does seem to hide a lot from us.”
Customer: “It’s all because of Israel and The Vatican, anyway. Have you heard of the Jesuits?”
Me: “… Kind of?”
Customer: “Well, the black pope is running the Vatican from Jerusalem. See, he thinks the Ark of the Covenant is there. That’s why he wants to sit atop it and rule the world from there. He’s the one who’s actually in control of the Vatican, and running the USA.”
Me: “…”
Customer: “That’s why the USA likes Israel so much! It’s all because the Vatican is baptizing aliens.”
Me: “Aliens like… foreigners?”
Customer: “No, aliens! You know… The greys, the lizard people…”
Me: “…”
Customer: “Anyway, Obama. His name isn’t even Barack. He grew up in Indonesia, and people called him ‘Barry.'”
Me: “Well, Mitt Romney’s first name is actually Willard, which is worse in my opinion.”
Customer: “Hmm… That’s true…” *gives thoughtful suspicious look, as if he’s now distrustful of Romney*
Me: *coughs*
Customer: “Anyway. North Dakota. Think about it.” *walks off*
Mouse Versus Evil
PET STORE, USA | RIGHT | JANUARY 5, 2018
CONTENT WARNING: ANIMAL ABUSE
(I own a small, local pet shop. We have a variety of small pets, including rodents like rats and mice. We breed all of our animals ourselves, and I personally couldn’t bear knowing they’d be eaten, so I do not sell feeder mice. I do, however, sell a variety of frozen rodents, as big as rabbits. Due to owning the shop, I refuse to sell to certain people if they tell me they’re using my animals as food or they’re going to put them in very incorrect conditions. If they claim they’ll put one in a large cage but try to buy a cage meant for smaller animals, I won’t sell. I’ve just opened up shop when a woman walks in. She seems polite enough, though a little strange. She goes to the mouse section and looks at a cage of female mice.)
Woman: “I want one of these.”
Me: “Ma’am, these are actually female mice. I’d highly suggest getting two, or getting a male if you just want one. Sorry if I’m coming off as rude.”
Woman: “Oh, it’s no bother. I’m just getting one to feed my ball python.”
Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t sell mice to you as feeders.”
Woman: “Uh, actually it’s just a pet.”
Me: “Ma’am, you’ve led me to believe you’re going to feed her to your snake. I can’t sell you any mice, but I can sell you supplies for a pet mouse and you can but your pet mouse somewhere else? I could sell you frozen mice.”
Woman: *huffily* “Well, fine. I don’t want ANYTHING from your rotten store! My baby will only eat live! I’m going to [Chain Pet Store That Takes Horrible Care Of Their Animals]!”
Me: “You’re free to go there, ma’am. Apologies.”
(She storms off. About an hour later, we’re a bit busier and I have two workers working with me. I’m walking around giving people advice and asking if they need help, one coworker is working the register, and my other coworker is cleaning out cages and feeding. A man walks in.)
Man: “Yes, I’ll take one male mouse, please.”
Me: “Okay, sir! Might I suggest this 10-gallon fish tank? I have packs made with everything you need for a mouse. It’s $120 and includes a mouse.”
Man: “I’ll take that.”
(I sell it to the man and he leaves, I think nothing more of it. The next day, the woman triumphantly stomps in, holding printed out pictures with her and a little box.)
Woman: “My snake didn’t like your stupid mouse, but look!”
(She showed me several horrible pictures of her holding the mouse I sold to the man. One was of her dangling it by the tail over boiling water, dangling it by the tail over her dog, the mouse flying through the air while they play catch with it, and the last photo was it swimming in the toilet. She dropped the box in front of me, ranting about how she really showed me. I motioned my coworker over and walked in the back to make a call about animal abuse. When I walked back out, she was still there, and we continued to stall her until the police arrived. She got a short sentence, one month, and had to do community service. She’s banned from owning any rodents and, of course, is banned from my store. She left the box when she was arrested, and what did I find inside? The mouse. He was still alive, though soaking wet, bruised, and a little cut up. I kept him personally, and he’s still alive to this day.)
Needs To Be Brailled Out Of That Class
ELEMENTARY/PRIMARY SCHOOL | LEARNING | SEPTEMBER 6, 2013
(It’s the first day of the first grade. I’ve been blind since birth, and this is noted in my school records. The teacher is calling each child up and having them tell a bit about themselves. I’m already terrified about starting school, and being shy this is putting me over the top. I give the same little talk most of the other children give.)
Teacher: “So, can you say something for the class in sign language?”
Me: “I, I don’t know.”
Teacher: “Sign language! Say something in sign language! It’s how you talk!”
(I just nervously stand there.)
Teacher: “Just leave! Go to the office! You’re obviously not ready for school!”
(I start to cry, not knowing what to do. The teacher grabs my arm and drags me to the office, berating me all the way.)
Teacher: *to the principal* “He’s too immature for school! He wouldn’t even say anything in sign language for my class!”
Principal: “You do know he’s blind, and not deaf, right? He doesn’t know sign language.”
Teacher: “Oh…”
(My parents had me pulled out of this teacher’s class, and into the first grade class across the hall.)
When The Dog Is Smarter Than Their Owner
PET BOARDING/PET HOTEL | RIGHT | JULY 11, 2013
(I am outside with a small, but very nervous and dog-aggressive dog. He is new to our kennel, so I am trying to spend some time with him to bond, so he will feel more comfortable with my coworkers and me. He has just let me pet him for the first time all day, which is a huge step forward. A client drives up the driveway and gets out of his car with his Labrador retriever. He begins to open the ‘Employees Only’ gate.)
Me: “Sorry, sir, but this area is employees only. Also, I’m working with a very nervous dog, which can be dangerous. I don’t want anything to happen to you, your dog, or this dog.”
Client: “My dog is really friendly. I’m sure they would get along just fine.”
(The client begins opening the latch to the gate.)
Me: “Sir, please don’t come in here.”
(The dog I am working with begins growling and assuming an aggressive stance toward the man’s Lab.)
Client: “My dog can hold his own against that little thing.”
Me: “Sorry, but I can’t risk you, myself, or either dog being injured. Please stay on the other side of the gate until I can get this one inside. I’ll help you as soon as I get back.”
Client: “I’m sure it will be fine. Just let them play!”
Me: “No. Even if this dog was extremely friendly, there’s at least a 90-pound difference between these two dogs, and I wouldn’t want your dog to accidentally step on this one. Stay right there. I’ll be back in just a minute.”
(The client opens the gate, and his dog pushes through and charges towards the small dog. I lift up the little dog, which is barking and snapping at the Lab, and trying to squirm out of my arms. He manages to scratch my face from my hairline to my jawline, barely missing my eye. Meanwhile, the Lab is jumping on me, scratching my legs and stomach hard.)
Me: “SIR. PLEASE GET YOUR DOG OUT OF HERE AND TAKE HIM TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE FENCE!”
Client: “Fine, whatever.”
(He leashes his dog and moves him while I put the little dog back. He is obviously agitated, growling at me through his fenced in area. I get the owner of the kennel to talk to the client about his behavior.)
Owner: “My staff told me what happened here. Didn’t she tell you not to let your dog in?”
Client: “I told her my dog wouldn’t get hurt!”
Owner: “That isn’t the point! She was doing trust exercises with a nervous new dog! You just undid all of her work!”
Client: “No, I didn’t! He seemed fine!”
Me: *to owner* “The dog just growled at me and tried to bite me through the fence. He wasn’t doing that before.”
Owner: “Oh, my gosh, [My Name]. You’re bleeding everywhere.”
(I look down and see that the small dog has scratched my arms during the struggle, enough to make me bleed a little, and my legs are starting to bruise and bleed from the Lab jumping on me. However, my face is worse. I see a few drops of blood drop onto my shirt from my forehead.)
Owner: “I need to get my employee cleaned up. Please take your dog elsewhere. I don’t need any clients who refuse to listen to my employees, who are trained professionals. Please go board your dog elsewhere.”
Client: “She’s not bleeding that badly! God! I just wanted my dog to play with that dog! If your employee would give him a chance, they’d get along just fine!”
Owner: “Get your d*** dog out of here before I call the police and every kennel in town, telling them what you did.”
(After some arguing the client left with his dog. We never saw him again. The scratches on my arms, legs, and stomach weren’t too bad. However, I do have a small scar just below my hairline from the little dog.)
Don’t Get Short With Me, Part 2
RESTAURANT | WORKING | NOVEMBER 16, 2012
(I am in a line to pay for my meal at a pay-by-weight salad bar that is self-serve. The customer ahead of me has a small salad and hands the cashier a 20 bill. He receives 19 dollars and loose change back.)
Customer: “Wait, that can’t be right. The salad should be about 4 dollars. Let me weigh that again.”
Cashier: “No! That’s the price. You’re holding up the line.”
(Ignoring him, the customer reaches over and weighs the salad again while the cashier protests. The salad weighs in at about 4 dollars.)
Customer: “See? It should cost more.”
Cashier: “Go. You paid, you’ve got your change, get out!”
Customer: *shrugs*
Me: “Can I get 3 dollars off my salad too?”
Cashier: “What?”
Me: “Yeah, you gave that guy a discount.”
Cashier: “Wait… what?”
(The manager wanders over and I explain what has happened. He turns to the cashier.)
Manager: “Why did you do that?”
Cashier: “I thought he was cheating me!”
Manager: “By paying more?!”
(That was the last time I saw the cashier working there.)
Deaf To Reason, Part 5
RETAIL | RIGHT | OCTOBER 12, 2014
Manager: “Can you please see that customer; he says he’s having trouble hearing his phone.”
Me: “Which is it, he can’t hear it or the sound isn’t working?”
Manager: “I’m not quite sure. Um, also… he’s deaf.”
Me: “What?”
Manager: “Please, you’re so good with these customers.”
Me: “Okay…”
(I head over and greet the customer and run a few basic checks on his mobile and immediately see the volume is working as it should.)
Me: “Well, sir, the volume appears to be working just fine, but you were having trouble hearing it, is that correct?”
Customer: “Oh, I can hear it just fine now. That’s no problem. But sometimes I like to go for a walk and when I do, I take my hearing aid out. Then I can’t hear it anymore! What do you suggest I do?”
Me: *dumbfounded* “…uh, I suggest you put your hearing aid back in?”
(The customer nods and looks at me expectantly, as if I have further advise to dispense.)
Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I really can’t think of any other solution, under the circumstances.”
Customer: “Oh… well, I suppose that will have to do then!” *walks off looking quite dissatisfied*
The Customer Is Not Always Related
GROCERY STORE | RIGHT | SEPTEMBER 6, 2013
(My boyfriend and I are picking up some groceries for his apartment. We see one of his friends and he decides to stop and chat. We stand there talking for about fifteen minutes and by this time I am hungry. To signal him that I want to leave, I put my hand in his back pocket.)
Customer: “You should be ashamed.”
(My boyfriend and I turn to see an older woman scowling at us.)
Boyfriend: “All she did was put her hand in my pocket so I would shut up so that we can leave.”
Customer: “She’s your sister, and you should be ashamed!”
Me: “He’s not my brother; he’s my boyfriend.”
Customer: “Don’t lie! I can see the resemblance! You shouldn’t grab your brother that way! It’s disgusting!”
Boyfriend: “Look, lady, we are not related. Go bother someone else with your crazy.”
Customer: “I am not crazy!”
(The customer approaches my boyfriend’s friend.)
Customer: “They’re siblings, aren’t they!?”
Boyfriend’s Friend: “If that’s true, it’s news to me and I’ve known [boyfriend] for quite a long time. As far as I know, he only has one sister and she is much younger.”
Spilled The Ink On That One
ART/DESIGN, CANADA, JERK, TATTOO PARLOR | WORKING | JUNE 17, 2019
(I have made an appointment to get a tattoo covered up. I sit down with the artist to talk about my options.)
Artist: “So, which one are we covering up for you?”
Me: “This one, right here. The one that says, ‘[Male Name].’”
(I roll up my sleeve and show him the tattoo of a small heart with “[Male Name]” written under it.)
Artist: *rolls his eyes* “Ah, broke up, did you? This is exactly why I don’t tattoo names on people.” *shakes his head*
Me: “Uh, no, it’s not like that. It’s actually–” *cuts me off*
Artist: “This is seriously one of the dumbest tattoo choices you can make. I mean, how stupid do you have to be to tattoo a boyfriend’s name on you? Jesus, c’mon. Nothing lasts forever these days.” *shakes his head again*
Me: “It’s not my boyfriend’s name; it’s–” *cuts me off again*
Artist: “Fiancé, husband, whatever. You’re a real idiot for tattooing his name on you. I mean, seriously–”
(Sick of his s***, I cut him off.)
Me: “Actually, it’s my father’s name. I got it as a memento four years ago when he died. Or I should say, when he faked his own suicide so he could go live with his new family on the other side of the country, which we just found out about. I want it gone. But I am definitely not doing that here. Goodbye.”
(The artist went absolutely white and tried to spit out some sort of apology, but I was already halfway out the door.)
The Spite At The End Of The Tunnel
BAD BEHAVIOR, BIZARRE, EDITORS' CHOICE, GROCERY STORE, USA | RIGHT | JUNE 26, 2009
(I’ve had a migraine all day on the job at the grocery store. I am making a valiant effort to fake it just a little longer, when…)
Customer: “You look too happy.”
Me: “Well, I’m–”
Customer: “I can fix that.”
(The customer proceeds to pull out something from her purse and shine a very bright light in my eyes. I take several steps back in pain.)
Digging Your Tree Out Of A Hole
EDITORS' CHOICE, LANDSCAPING, STUPID | RIGHT | SEPTEMBER 28, 2009
(I’m a landscaper paying a visit to a customer; he had called in complaining about a 5-foot sapling I had planted that is now dying.)
Me: “What’s up with the tree?”
Customer: “It died, see? Lemme show you!”
(I follow the customer back to his lawn and notice that the sapling we planted a couple of weeks ago was now apparently two feet tall and very dead.)
Me: “Sir, what happened to this?”
Customer: “It was going to get too tall so I decided to bury it deeper.”
Me: “You buried it deeper?”
Customer: “I dug it out, dug a deeper hole until it was the right height and then buried it again. Now it’s dead!”
Me: “Sir, you do know you weren’t supposed to do that, right? If you wanted a smaller tree, you should have gotten a shrub.”
One Loses His Allowance, The Other His Immortal Soul
FAMILY & KIDS, FUNNY, LIARS/SCAMMERS, MONEY, RELIGION, RETAIL, USA | RIGHT | JUNE 22, 2008
(I am in high school working at a dollar store. It’s a small town so Sundays are usually busy after church services. This man, his wife, and his young son are in line.)
Me: “That will be $25.30.”
Customer: “I’ve only got $15… We gave $20 at the offering today. You think you could give me a break?”
Customer’s Young Son: *innocently* “We didn’t give any money at church today.”
Going From Bad To Warsaw
RETAIL | RIGHT | MARCH 5, 2013
(I am half Polish, and fluent in the language, but have lived in England all my life so speak without an accent. Between my degree and my masters, I get a job in a pound shop—everything costs £1—to earn some money. I am on tills and call two young women forward.)
Me: “Can I help you?”
(The customer dumps her items on the counter without acknowledging me, and then turns to her friend and speaks in Polish.)
Customer #1: “Look at this dumb b****! How bad must your life get to work here?!”
Customer #2: *in Polish* “I know! And she judges us for being Polish! All English people are so racist!”
Me: *in Polish* “That will be £7, please.”
Customers #1 & #2: *both turn red and hurry out of the shop*
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