Customer: “Can I only buy one sock?”

Me: “Sorry, we only sell them as pairs.”

Customer: “Ugh, but I only need one.”

I’ve learned enough during my time in retail to NOT ask the customer why. I looked down to check if he only had one foot, but no, he has two.

Me: “Uh, maybe keep one and give one… away?”

Customer: “Give away? To who? Who the h*** would want just one sock?!”

My first thought is “YOU! You only want one sock!” but then I think of a better answer:

Me: “Uh… Dobby?”

Customer: *Pauses a moment.* “…Good answer.”

He purchased the cheapest pair of socks we had, one for him and whatever he needed it for, and one to free a house elf one day…

I work at a restaurant that’s owned by a single dude; no chain, no corporate, no f***s to give. I believe this lack of corporate interference and the owner opening the restaurant as a labor of love is what contributes to the great quality of the food, which does not go unnoticed by the local town.

The restaurant currently has an hour’s wait (we don’t do bookings), and a lady marches up to the host stand, where the owner is currently working.

Customer: “Table for six.”

Owner: “Can I get your name? The waitlist is about an hour.”

She takes a second, and this look of sheer anger appears on her face.

Customer: “How? This place isn’t even that good.”

Owner: “THEN WHY THE F*** ARE YOU HERE?!”

Shockingly, she quietly gave a name and came back an hour later. Her table was perfectly behaved and tipped well. I guess some people just need that quick jolt of a reminder to be decent humans…

A customer calls over my coworker, who is waiting on her.

Customer: “There’s a hair in my meal.”

Coworker: “May I see it?”

The customer holds up a single hair while continuing to complain.

Customer: “I want a new meal.”

It should be noted that she’s more than halfway through her meal.

Customer: “And I don’t expect to pay for either.”

Coworker: “Ma’am, since it’s obvious that I’m not going to get a tip from you, here’s one from me. If you’re gonna complain about hair in your food, first, make sure it’s a straight black hair of one of the Central American men working in the kitchen, and not from your three-foot, curly weave extension.”

The customer gasped and demanded a manager, who promptly told her to pay for her meal and get the f*** out.

Caller: “Where the f*** is my couch!?”

I recognize the voice as an uppity customer I’d spoken to two days earlier.

Me: “Sir, are you the customer who ordered the jade-colored corner couch two days ago in the store?”

Caller: “That’s right! Now where the h*** is it?!”

Me: “Sir, as was explained to you when you ordered it, that couch is being manufactured in Italy and then will be shipped over. All custom orders like that take time.”

Caller: “Well, any delays are unacceptable! What else are we supposed to sit on in the meantime?”

Me: “Your old couch?”

Caller: “I got rid of the old couch, obviously! Right after I placed the order for the new one. We’re sitting on the floor to watch TV, so delays are unacceptable.”

Me: “Uh, sir, there are no delays. You were told your couch would be eight to ten weeks. Any time during or before that is standard. It would need to be longer than ten weeks for it to count as a delay. When the sofa is with us, we call you to schedule delivery, so you have plenty of time to get the old furniture out of the way without sitting on the floor for months.”

Caller: “Well, what the f*** are we supposed to sit on?!”

Me: “Sir, if it was so obvious for you to get rid of your old couch as soon as you placed an order for a new one, I would also say it’s obvious that you try to get it back.”

Caller: “God d*** it! We took it out the back yesterday and shot the s*** out of it for target practice!” *Click.*

I still find it laughable that this guy thought what he did was “obviously” the logical thing to do.

I worked at a cell phone provider. I worked in the call center and took calls from individual customers, as well as employees of companies who would purchase our phones in bulk. This caller is the latter.

Caller: *Angry.* “My work phone has no screen and no buttons! How the h*** are you expecting me to make calls on this thing?!”

Me: “No screen and no buttons? That’s odd. Can you read the make and model from the box it came in?”

Caller: *Shouts the model number.*

Me: “Sir, that’s a flip phone.”

Caller: “What the h*** is a flip phone?!”

This is still relatively early in the days of cell phones, so I’m guessing he’d never seen one before.

Me: “It’s a phone that… uh… flips open?”

Caller: “You’re not making any sense!”

Me: “Okay, sir, put your finger in the crack at the bottom of the phone and… push up.”

There’s a pause, a gasp, a cuss, and a click.