My worst customer ever...
This was quite a few years ago, but it's still the highest level of customer suckage I can think of.

Ok. Just so you know: Working at a bank is godawful. People are pissy. The elderly think that you should remember them, since they’ve been members of the bank since 1969. Nevermind that they only come into the branch office once a year. Bygod they have over $1000 in this bank and asking for ID is a suicidal mission. WHY THE HELL DO YOU NEED ID? I WAS JUST IN HERE 3 MONTHS AGO! WHY DON’T YOU REMEMBER ME? DON'T MAKE ME CALL YOUR MANAGER! I KNOW THE OWNER OF THIS BANK AND I CAN HAVE YOU FIRED!

So you would think, that the people who are in charge of the upwards of $500,000 per week would get a decent wage. Well, you would be wrong. As a Head Teller (NO, not that kind of head, you pervs) the max I ever made was $8.50 an hour. I had been at that place for 6 years, and they paid me $8.50 an hour. Bastards.

So, it’s a Friday. Best friggin day of the week at a bank. And the beginning of the month. People are lining up out the door. Keep in mind; Fridays are the bane of a bank teller’s existence. We hate All People on Fridays. (If you ever go to a bank on a Friday, and that nice little girl that tells you to have a good day? She hates you. She wishes she could drop you into a large vat of acid, and watch your flesh dissolve. Never go to the bank on a Friday if you can help it.)

Typical Friday, we were open until 6. Things are extremely busy, line-ups out the door. I think it was the third of the month, so we have all of the social security and welfare checks to cash. When the first or third falls on a Friday, you know it’s gonna be a bad day.

We’re close to closing time, the crowd is thinning out. Near the end of the line, is a woman, about 25 or so, with a little boy, about 4. She comes up to my counter, hands me a phone bill and a credit card. I ask, “Did you want a cash advance on the credit card to pay the phone bill?” (We had to ask)

She rolls her eyes and says “YES!” (Quite loudly. Even all of the retired social security check holders turned to look, and most of them are half deaf.)

I run the cash advance and have her sign the slip, while instructing the new girl next to me how to run an electric bill. After she signs the slip, she turns to walk away, and I say, “We haven’t done your phone bill yet, just the cash advance.”

Another eye roll and she yanks on the kid's arm and comes back up to the counter. I process the phone bill, hand her the receipt and turn to answer the question the new girl is asking me.

Now, I freely admit I was a bit distracted during the transaction, due to the new girl next to me that I was training. But I don’t think that excuses this:

Customer’s eyes begin to bulge and the unholy fires of hell surround her. She literally screams, “I WANT TO TALK TO THE MANAGER!”

I’m stunned. I stammer out, “All right.” I stand up from my stool, and start to walk around the counter to get my supervisor, and the woman rushes around the counter and punches me! Closed fist. (And that was a big, ham-like fist. This woman was an Amazon. About 6’2 and probably 240)

I jump back as I see her coming, and her fist only connects with the top of my head, instead of my face that she was aiming for.

My supervisor, who stood up when the woman began screaming, runs over and leaps in front of her, arms spread. He is not happy with someone attacking one of his girls. (I know, but we were very young girls, and he was a very sweet older guy. We didn’t mind being called his girls.)

She’s still trying to come at me, and my supervisor is shoving back at her with his body, refusing to touch her with his hands, she’s got both of her arms over his shoulders, swinging wildly. Her poor kid is watching the whole thing.

Super long story made slightly shorter: Cops were called, woman was arrested, and kid gets picked up by Grandma. I head to hospital for pictures for the cops; we go to court a few months later. Want to hear the reason she gave the judge for attacking me? (And she actually said this, in court.)

I didn’t tell her to have a good day.

Length? Only six months probation and a small fine.
(ladydyani, Sat 6 Sep 2008, 4:40, Reply)