Sometimes customer service can be stressful, but few believe that it can also be dangerous. The patience of people has never been in great supply, but some customers take their escalations extremely too far. After reading these unbelievable stories about irate customers causing unforgettable scenes in public places, you can’t help but welcome a new perspective on what it’s like to be the helpless employee on the opposite side of the register.
All stories have been edited for clarity.
McSmackdown
“It was a lovely Saturday afternoon at around two-thirty in the afternoon. We were in the heat of the family lunch rush. One of the other cashiers had called out so it was just me against a horde of customers. The wait was at least seven minutes long, and that was with me being a very experienced cashier.
I was taking the order of an older gentleman and his wife when two little girls come running from the playground.
They cut through the line, and asked, ‘Can we have a cup please?’
Now, I wasn’t too upset about them cutting because it wasn’t irritating, and kids will be kids, so I responded with, ‘For soda?’
Soda at Mcdonald’s of any size mind you cost one dollar. One US dollar. One hundred pennies. Just one dollar. Honestly, if anyone ever admitted to me that they couldn’t afford a cup of soda or whatever I’d slip it to them. This is not the main point though.
The little girls said, ‘Yes for soda,’ because kids don’t lie. I said, ‘You’re going to have to have your mommy or daddy give you a dollar, and then I can give it to you, okay?’ They skipped back into the playland, nodding and still smiling. Kids.
A short minute later while I was still taking the couple’s order, a woman barged inside the dining area from the playground and approached my cash register at an alarming speed.
The woman cut off the long line, and stepped in front of the man and wife.
‘Why didn’t you give my daughters a water cup when they asked for one,’ the woman demanded.
I, a small, short seventeen-year-old, met her furious tone with a calmer one in an attempt to deescalate, ‘Ma’am, they asked me for soda.’
‘You’re lying! Give me water cups!’ Her voice kept rising.
‘I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to step over so a manager can assist you. You’re cutting my line.’
By then she was spitting at me and screaming that she wanted a water cup for her daughters. All of my efforts to calm her down were in vain. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat as she inched closer and closer to me while screaming at the top of her lungs in front of everyone in line. I was like a dear frozen in headlights. Seeing her tower over me gave me the sinking feeling that I was in deep trouble.
There were small, clear cups under my register meant for sample ice cream. Small things, smaller than a bathroom cup I assume.
The woman shoved me extremely hard, pushing on my chest before slamming me into the wall behind me. I stumbled as I lost my footing against her violent assault. She then snatched the cups from under the register and quickly stomped off with her daughters trailing behind her.
I was in absolute shock. The man whose order I was taking assured me that she was an awful person and that if I wanted to call the cops he would gladly be a witness.
I glanced over at the soda machine, and sure enough, the woman had filled it with soda.
All over a dollar.”
The Key To Regret
“I managed a key shop for years that sat outside a large shopping mall. I was not a trained locksmith. I just made keys, by hand, not by using one of those automatic machines they use now.
One day a customer brought me his double-sided car key and requested that I make a copy. It was worn down, and from the condition of the key I wasn’t able to copy it correctly. There was an excellent locksmith down the road and I suggested he gave them a visit instead.
The guy pouted and whined then he had me try over and over. Failure after failure was costing me a small sum in key blanks. He wanted a fancy style that was hard to order. I could see my efforts obviously going by the wayside. His copy was so worn that my clamps had a difficult time even holding his original copy in place.
Finally, I told him that I was finished trying. By then, he was furious. At the time, I didn’t understand his frustration. His original key had the ‘cut code’ on it, so a locksmith would be able to recreate a brand-new key without even needing to put his worn key in a key cutter. I did not have that capability. He left after calling me a few choice words.
Two hours later I had ten people lined up for keys in my shop. I was in the zone, cutting, ringing up transactions, and working the line. Suddenly, I heard someone shout, ‘You lazy woman! I went to another key shop, and they made my key!’
When I looked up, I realized it was the same guy from before. Only this time, he was holding something much worse than a key.
‘Good for you!’ I shouted bravely. ‘How many times did they have to try?’
I don’t remember what he said, but I know they tried more than once. They weren’t a key shop he explained further, but a car dealership. Why he thought I would have had more luck making his key than the dealership that sold his car I don’t know. He was a loon with serious anger management issues.
Then he threatened to light the place up if I didn’t try to make a new key for him.
That’s when an unlikely hero walked in.
A woman wearing a dress of lavender flowers, orthopedic shoes, and a lacy white sweater, with hair was that soft gray like smoke all under a fine hair net looked around then at the man. She was an elderly woman with a pocketbook that might have weighed sixty pounds. That’s how the crazy man acted when she started beating him with it. She continued to beat him with it right out the door. She lifted her bag and whacked that man about the head and shoulders, telling him how we should treat each other with dignity and respect. She told him that folks needed to take turns and wait in line.
Miracle of miracles, security was waiting for him, and once he was away from the crowd. They swiftly plucked his weapon from him. I don’t remember what happened to him. He wasn’t the only crazy customer I had in my time at the key shop, but he was the only one that brought a sidearm to a key fight.”
Show Me The Money!
“I was a teller for a bank in the early 80s, just as cash machines were being introduced to the public.
The branch had been opened and I waited on a male customer who, as it turned out, did not have enough money in his account to make the withdrawal he was requesting, After being refused by me, he went over to the cash machine which also rejected his request and retained his cash card.
He left the branch and returned a minute later with something that made my blood turn cold.
He stormed back in with a sledgehammer in his hands that he must have retrieved from his truck parked outside. He then proceeded to smash the cash machine with his sledgehammer. He frightened everyone.
We called the police of course and although he had left the building by the time the police got there, I had all of his details, including name and address on his account that I looked up when he made the original attempt to withdraw money.
Busted.”
“You’ll Be Sorry!”
“Several years ago I was a shift supervisor at a CD store in a mall. One day I saw a customer giving a coworker a hard time about something. As I walked over, the customer escalated more and more and started yelling and swearing at my coworker.
I stepped in and told the customer if she didn’t knock it off I would remove her from the store. She hardly calmed down and said she wanted to return a CD she purchased earlier that same day. She wanted to return it not because it was defective, but because it ‘freaking sucked.’
Now, like most stores that sold easily copied media, we only accepted returns on defective merchandise and even then only for a new copy of the same product. I explained this to her, pointing out the rather large sign behind the registers and the portion on her receipt that explains this policy.
The woman, however, freaked out and started screaming at me and my coworker again. Without a moment’s hesitation, I instructed her to leave and warned her that if she didn’t I would call security. She stormed out yelling that I would be sorry.
That was when things really got interesting.
A little later I saw the customer walking past the store. A few minutes later she walked by again. This happened a few times before a police officer entered the store. The officer came immediately asked to speak to a manager.
As I’m introducing myself the customer comes running in yelling, ‘That’s him! That’s the guy that threatened me and stole my money!’
The officer looked at her, then back at me, and asks what exactly happened. The customer launches into a tirade about how I ‘stole her money’ by not allowing her to return the CD. The cop then turned to me, and I explained to him what actually happened.
The officer was incredibly professional when he told her that calling the police for something like that was a waste of time. After the crazy woman left, I thanked the officer and apologized for him even having to get involved.
He shook his head at the ridiculousness of the situation, said, ‘Don’t worry about it,’ and left.”
“Do You Know Who I Am?!”
“I was working as a box office manager at a film festival. I had flown out across the country to participate in it. I got to meet and work with some very cool people and I was in a beautiful spot. The only thing that would ultimately crush my perception of things were the rude, entitled people who lived in the area and thought they owned everyone because they had money.
My day started off great! The staff was super chill and we all worked in a small office. I got a delicious lunch in the nearby square, came back, and sat down ready to continue my amazing day.
Apparently, a small line started to form outside for the next showing but it consisted of no more than three people. I opened my register and called for the next customer.
The next customer produced a loud audible sigh, rolled her eyes and groaned, ‘Finally!’ She couldn’t have been waiting more than five minutes.
I said with a smile, ‘How can I help you?’ She handed me her ID and said, ‘I need my tickets.’
I looked up her order only to discover she had print-at-home tickets. I kindly met her gaze before saying, ‘I’m sorry but you have print-at-home tickets. You’ll need to go home or find a computer to print them out.’
This was when things got real!
She started screaming at me, calling me names, and throwing a tantrum like a two-year-old with a vast and vulgar vocabulary. I then told the irate woman, ‘I’m sorry but you can’t use that language in here. Please stop yelling. There is nothing I can do for you. You chose print-at-home and I can’t print them out here. I’m sorry.’
To be honest, this was sort of untrue; I did have the capability of overriding the system but was told to only do so for VIPs or staff and I certainly wasn’t going to reward her bad behavior by giving in.
She started clinching and talking through her teeth with her eyes bulging out of her head. ‘Do you know who I am?! I’m David Rittenberg’s cousin!’ This made me just grin ear to ear. I looked her dead in the eye and said sheepishly, ‘Do you mean David Rivkin? I would think if he was your cousin, you would know his name.’
She knew she was caught in a lie but she just dug her heels in and started yelling at me again. I crossed my arms, still smiling, and let her finish. When she was done I asked, ‘Are you done? I can’t print your tickets and you need to leave. I won’t have you using that language around all these people. Please get out of my office!’
She just humphed and said, ‘I’m calling your manager,’ as she left.
I yelled back, ‘Call David Rittenberg!’
Everyone in line started applauding! Everyone to witness the event told me what a great job I had done for staying calm and how I handled her. I let my bosses know of the incident and she did end up calling in. They told her that I was following protocol and I did nothing wrong. I loved the backup from them!
This was not my only incident where someone pulled the, ‘Do you know who I am?’ bit but she was definitely the most memorable!”
An “Hour” Wait
“I was a shift supervisor at Pizza Hut during the time when you could dine in and they had a birthday room.
It was a Friday night. We had two cooks, two servers, and myself. At the time, it was dine-in or carry-out only. No delivery. It was rush hour which is usually between six and eight at night. Since I had a full staff, I would bounce between positions because I was a manager and could keep up and make things run smoothly. I was pretty good.
So, I was in the back getting toppings out of the walk-in freezer. As I was refilling everything, I noticed one of the cooks had walked a pizza out because I guess both servers were too busy. He came back and had a receipt with a personal pan pizza order on it. I asked him what it was for and he said, ‘This girl has been waiting for an hour to order a pizza so I told her I would take care of it.’ He had run up the order and cashed it out, not putting any money into the order.
I was annoyed. Yes, being short almost six bucks wouldn’t get me in trouble. However, I was mad because I’m the manager, not him. He cannot just place an order and cash it out without informing me. So I said, ‘I’ll take care of it, don’t ever do that again.’
I went up front and saw the girl just standing there. She was young and rather pretty, so I had a feeling my cook was flirting with her because he flirted with every girl including me until my boyfriend set him straight. Also, there was no way that she had waited an hour for her food because I was up front making tea, rolling silverware, and cashing other customers out.
Not once did I see her beforehand.
After checking that everyone was caught up and there wasn’t a customer waiting, I checked the make table, saw they needed maybe three things, went and got them, and that’s when he came back there. So maybe ten minutes at the most. I never like making customers wait because who honestly wants to deal with that?
So I go up front and to my right, one of my servers were rolling silverware that had just came out of the dishwasher. I took the pizza, went to the cash register, and told her that her pizza was ready. Now, my cook never told her that he was going to just give her the pizza, otherwise, I would have avoided what was next. I asked him what he told her and he just told her he will make the pizza now.
She came up to me and I said, ‘I’m sorry for the wait. We made your pizza fresh and its ready. It’ll be five dollars.’
The girl shoots me the most disgusted look and said, ‘Your cook said I could just have it since I’ve been waiting over an hour to place my order.’
I then said, ‘he said that he would take care of it which means that he will go ahead and skip all the other orders in order to start yours. I could have helped you earlier but I didn’t see you waiting that long.’
She paid for the food then immediately snapped and said, ‘You know what, forget it. I don’t want it. Give me my money back.’
I should have thrown it in the trash. Her attitude was atrocious.
While I was in the process of giving her money back, she explodes. She began cursing me out super LOUD. Everyone in Pizza Hut looked was gawking. She kept calling me horrible names that stung like venom. She kept saying that she will fight me and accused me of not knowing what I was doing and a whole bunch of other crazy accusations. I was shocked. Nobody had EVER called me out of my name like that and I would have NEVER said anything bad about her or anyone in this way.
Then she started talking badly about my servers. One of the servers was pregnant, busting her butt and trying to keep up. She was seven months then so her belly was showing big time and she was sweating. I knew her feet hurt and her back but she continued to work like everything was fine. Then she heard this girl call her a stupid pregnant cow because apparently ‘she walked around helping everyone but her’. As I said, I had two servers. The other one was rolling silverware. So the pregnant girl came over and said, ‘excuse me?’ Then she said, ‘I asked you if you had been helped and you just looked at me but you didn’t respond.’
The girl continued to shout at us until finally, I told her to leave before I called the police. Out of nowhere, the girl snatched the pizza off the counter and left.
I was actually in tears because that was the first time that a customer was rude to me and called me out of my name. I went to the back and I cried. My cook that caused everything came back there to check on me. I said, ‘if you had just gotten me from the back, I wouldn’t have gotten my feelings hurt. Please leave me alone unless you need help.’
After ten minutes I went up front because a customer wanted to talk to me. It was actually an older couple in their forties. The husband looked concerned and said, ‘Look, you are going to run into a lot of people like that. She was just one. She just wanted a free pizza and she got it. You did nothing wrong. She only waited five minutes.’
Then his wife said, ‘Sweetheart, you don’t need to cry. She had no right to say that or act that way.’ Then she gave me a hug and I cried more but I smiled because I never wanted anyone to think I was a bad manager.
I never did see her again. All the customers that night had said they were sorry I had to deal with that and left good tips for my servers and me.”
Seize Her
“We had an aquatic nursery and the smallest size pot that we used was a one-gallon pot. Some fish would destroy anything that was in a smaller pot. Twenty years ago, we decided to only use one gallon pots.
One day we had a lady drop by with a 1/2 quart pot that a plant had been destroyed in. She informed me that we had sold her the plant and that she wanted it replaced for free as it was defective.
I told her that it wasn’t one of our nursery pots explaining very clearly about our one gallon rule.
She started screaming that she wanted her plant replaced immediately. I asked her to calm down and tried to quietly explain that what she had, wasn’t purchased from our nursery. I asked her name which she refused to give me. I suggested that if she had purchased the plant here that her name would be in our system. She told me that she had paid cash and no one had asked for her name. I asked for a receipt, but of course, she did not have one.
At that point, her volume was no longer acceptable and I asked her to leave. She left the office and I watched as she went and sat in her car.
Less than five minutes later, the police arrived. Apparently, she had called them and told them that I had cheated her out of a very expensive plant and that it was theft.
The police officers listened to what I had to say about it not being a plant from our nursery and that she didn’t have a receipt.
When the officers questioned her she became very combative. When they explained that they were not going to make me give her a new plant for something that she had obviously purchased elsewhere, she threw the pot at them screaming some very ugly language.
She was arrested for assault on a police officer. Her car sat in our parking lot overnight. The next day someone else came to pick up the car.
Thank goodness we never saw her again.”
Just Return It!
“One day I was working my shift at a bookstore when a customer bought a book, paid me by check, then left. It was a simple transaction. He then came back a couple of minutes later and completely skipped the line that formed. He then complained that he no longer wanted the book. He then added that he wanted the cash back instead of the check.
I pointed out the line and explained that I needed a supervisor to process returns. He grumbled before taking a place in line. When was finally his turn, he then told me never mind, and that he wanted to just take the check back.
I told him that we could perform his request with no problem, but I still needed a supervisor to process returns. Jon, the supervisor, and a wonderfully even-keeled guy, showed up right away and asked how he can help.
The man then took a jab at me with the book and started yelling, ‘I JUST WANTED TO RETURN THIS BOOK AND THIS IDIOT REFUSED TO HELP!’
Jon pointed out that however much I may have wanted to help, a return required a supervisor.
‘BUT I JUST BOUGHT THE BOOK! HOW IS THAT A RETURN?’
‘Would you like your money back, or at you donating it?’
‘OF COURSE, I WANT MY MONEY BACK! WHY WOULD I DONATE ANYTHING TO YOU!’
‘Then Bill was correct in calling me over,’ Jon said matter-of-factly.
‘I WASN’T EVEN SURE IF I WANTED IT! HE TOLD ME I COULD RETURN IT AND NOW HE’S NOT HELPING!’
‘And yet here we are, giving you back your check. Have a good day.’
Then Jon calmly walked off.”
You Won’t Like Me When I’m Angry!
“I was an auto mechanic for more than twenty-two years. Eighteen of those years were spent working for GM dealerships. One day, I walked into the service department foyer where the advisors looked over the customer’s cars, and wrote down details such as mileage, and external damage for protection claims.
I was standing beside the desk of our oldest service advisor as he was explaining why it was taking a little longer than expected to find the cause of this one customer’s driver’s side headlamp outage. Normally it was a case of replacing the bulb and nothing more, but in this case, the bulb’s filament was intact, and the pigtail connector was good, dry, and making good contact with the bulb. I remember groaning a bit as it became obvious that he was becoming frustrated even though he had only been waiting for fifteen minutes or so. As in most technical tasks, you addressed the most obvious causes first, then if the cause was still not found, you had to take it further.
The sweet smell of an adult beverage that was leeching out of the guy’s pores made it clear that he would not be in a reasonable frame of mind for long. I got a little closer to the advisor’s side to give him support. He was no dummy, and as a veteran, he had seen many befuddled men lose their fecal matter over the years, but as a professional, he had to maintain a calm demeanor and sense of pride.
As the advisor attempted to explain how we approach the diagnosis of a failed or inoperative bulb, the customer went from, ‘Hello, how are you?’ to ‘WHY CAN’T YOU FIX MY FREAKING CAR?’
He leaned over, grabbed the waist-high desk in both hands, lifted it clear of the floor, then slammed it down with a huge boom. It was impressive, but terrifying, to say the least.
The agitated customer wanted to walk into the shop, get in his car, and drive off. This was regardless of the fact that he already owed us for some additions that he threw onto the work order such as an oil change. Our main concern was this crazy person would have crashed before he got to the next block, so we wound up calling the cops and he was whisked away to sleep it off. His car was towed so we never got to see him again, thankfully.
Talk about an escalation!”
Who’s That Lady?
“A long time ago, when I was working for a big toy store chain, a woman came in with a game cartridge to get a refund. Our return policy at the time was that if the package had been unsealed, you could get a replacement of the same game, but not a refund. If the shrink wrap was intact, it was fine, and you were golden.
This policy was in place because we had still been selling computer software, and people would just take it home and copy it. With game cartridges, they would disassemble them and return the empty cartridge shell for a refund. Classy, right?
The lady says she needed a refund because her son already had the game. Unfortunately, the shrinkwrap was gone and the box was worn.
When she was told no, she went absolutely screaming ballistic.
Everyone in the store could hear her, even the guys back in bike assembly. Customers were standing there with their jaws hanging open. You see, this was in Canada, and people this rude weren’t very common. She stood there, red-faced, screaming profanity at the top of her lungs, and slamming the game cartridge violently onto the counter as she punctuated her words.
She went through the cashier, the head cashier, and store management, only getting louder and louder. Management finally called the police, and when she realized they were on the way she threw the cartridge down and stomped out of the store, never to return. She was gone before the cops got there.”
