Customer Service Horror Stories

I worked at Blockbuster for almost 2 years in college, and I have a few horror stories from that.

My favorite one happened towards the end of my tenure there, but it was so perfect that it pretty much made me immune to every ass-hat that tried to fuck with my calm, customer service demeanor after that.

It was an incredibly hot so-cal night, and this really, abnormally non-plussed teen girl comes up to me and asks for 9/11, which wasn’t out on DVD at the time. I told her that, and she indicated that 9/11 wasn’t what she was looking for, even though that’s what she asked for, as if it was a burden to her to have to articulate her needs beyond the 4 syllables she’d already graced upon my humble hears. I figure that she probably had a school project that she was not excited about and showed her our fairly impressive set of 9/11 and 9/11 related documentaries, asked if she was fine, she made an affirmative sound and I went back to help the growing line of customers.
Long enough later that I had pretty much forgotten about this foray into the conversational skills of the modern American teenager, a very fat, very agitated woman waddled up to my counter to check out, and when I asked her if she found everything alright-as per Blockbuster policy-she replied that she did not, and indicated that she was shocked that I could even dress myself in the morning, judging by how stupid and incompetent I appeared to be. I inquired after her disgruntled-ness, and she yelled that I had failed to help her daughter find the proper 9/11 documentary, and that I was obviously a retarded cunt, because anyone who was not a retarded cunt would have been able to show her inarticulate and sulky child the 9/11 documentaries, as I had not done. Ignorantly, I countered that I had showed her daughter the 9/11 documentaries, and she began yelling louder, asked if I was calling her sweet child a liar (how can the girl be a liar when she’s clearly a mute) and created a list of things that were wrong with me, people like me, my clear lack of customer training, as well as the character of the faceless multinational corporation by whom I was employed. At this point, I noticed that, due to the heat, and her current exertions, she was sweating like a basketball player, and as fat drops of sweat rolled down her chins, and jiggled on her neck fat, I noticed that her white t-shit was completely translucent… and she wasn’t wearing a bra. I began to smile. I realized that I had maintained my calm while this fat, jellyroll pig was sweaty, yelling and had her large, long, flat chichis, and dirt brown, 3″ in diameter nips out on display for the entire world. I was almost laughing when I thanked her for her input, asked if she wanted to see the 9/11 documentaries and thanked her again when she told me to eat shit and die, or threatened to have me fired (from my shitty job I hate? oh no, not that!), or some similar angry customer stand-by.

I will never forget that great fat bitch for teaching me the lesson of a lifetime. If someone is yelling at you, you only look stupid if you yell back, but they look like an absolute retard if you maintain your cool and stand your ground.

Thank you, rolly-polly cunt from Anaheim, Ca with waster daughter and husband so deathly silent he didn’t even warrant a mention in this story, your ugly chichis opened my eyes.