(Note: I’m about five-seven, one-hundred forty pounds and work at a video game store. My best friend is a foot taller, and about a hundred pounds heavier.)

Me: “Thank you for calling ***, can I help you?”

Customer: “Uh yeah, I bought this stupid hockey-game, and I wanna return it ’cause I don’t like it.”

Me: “Well, I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t simply return a game because you didn’t like it.”

Customer: “Uh… I mean, the game doesn’t work right.”

Me: “Sir, you just told me that you didn’t like the game, not that it was defective.”

Customer: *click*

(Thirty minutes later, I’ve just opened the store and my best friend stops by. The same customer storms in with a game.)

Customer: “Uh, yeah, I just called about thirty minutes ago, and some guy said I could get my money back because I didn’t like this game.”

Me: “Sir, the person you spoke to was me. I’ll tell you now, as I told you then, you can’t get a refund for a game if you don’t like it. Nor can you get an exchange.”

Customer: “Well, I’m just gonna have to come across the counter and kick your a**, you son of a b****!”

My Friend: “Hey, really quick, could I get your name and if you have any severe allergies to pain-killers?”

Customer: *to my friend* “Who the h*** are you, and what the h*** are you doing?!”

My Friend: “I’m his wrestling and sparring partner, and I’m calling you an ambulance.”

(The customer leaves, quickly. And yes, my best friend is also my wrestling and sparring partner, for the past 3 years.)