Some customers are so entitled that they think employees can magically produce something a store doesn’t even sell.

One university bookstore employee found that out after an older man came in with a list of shirts he needed in 4XL and 5XL.

After checking the stockroom, the employee explained that it wasn’t possible because the store only carried sizes up to 3XL.

Well, the man’s employer was not taking ‘no’ for an answer, so he asked if the employee could explain it to her.

Instead of listening, she insisted the store had to have the shirts and eventually accused the employee of discriminating against her.

Read on to see what happened next.

“Customer” sends her groundskeeper to buy 4XL and 5XL shirts, becomes furious when we don’t carry them.

I worked at my university’s bookstore for two years as a register monkey.

I say register monkey because “cashier” didn’t cut it: we had to do anything our handlers, team leads, told us to do, like trained monkeys.

Our “bookstore” was about 30% textbooks and 70% “anything we can put our logo or school name on and sell for a 200% markup.”

So, one slow summer day, I’m sitting and talking with the other monkeys when an old man walks into the store.

It doesn’t seem like the man can find what he needs, so the employee steps in to help.

He looks to be about 80 years old, his back is bent and he can’t stand up straight, and he’s got a little crumpled piece of paper that he apparently tore out of one of those pocket notebooks held up to his face so he can read what he scrawled there.

He starts looking in our apparel section, and I leave him be. No one wants someone bugging them right when they start looking. But, soon I note that he doesn’t seem to be finding what he’s looking for.

He looks for about 10 minutes before my handler tells me to go help him out. The following conversation takes place between me (ME) and the old man (OM):

ME: Can I help you find something, sir?

Right then, he tried to explain that they don’t carry that size of shirts.

OM: Oh, yes, thank you, son! I have these shirts I’m looking for… (He fishes out the crumpled piece of paper.)

He then lists six or seven styles of shirt, complete with SKUs from our website.

OM: And for each of those, I need one in a 4XL and one in a 5XL.

ME: Oh, I’m sorry, sir, I don’t think we carry those in those sizes.

Sure enough, he checked, and they had none.

OM: Well, could you at least take a look?

ME: Of course. Give me a few minutes to check the stockroom.

So I head to the stockroom, knowing **** well that the largest size we carry is 3XL, and not many of those to boot.

I actually do check, and sure enough, no 4 or 5X. I walk back out to the sales floor and see the old man on his cell phone.

Now, the woman on the other end of the phone was angry.

Almost like a cartoon, I can hear this high-pitched voice talking loudly even from about 15 feet away as I walk up to him. He excuses himself without hanging up and asks me if I found them.

ME: No, sir, I was right. We don’t carry anything that size. I’m sorry. Can I help you find anything else?

OM: Well, I’ve got my boss on the phone–(He sheepishly gestures with his phone.)–and she’s a bit upset that you don’t carry the shirts. Could you explain to her?

ME: Um, sure.

She was not willing to take no for an answer.

He hands me the phone, and I try to greet the woman on the other end, henceforth referred to as Cranky Fat ***** (CF*), but she cuts me off before I get two words out.

CF*: Alright, I’m going to take this very slowly so you understand what I’m looking for. I need these shirts–(she lists the SKUs painfully slowly, asking “Did you understand that?” snootily each time). Now, do you think you could go get those for me?

ME: Yes, ma’am, he told me what shirts you’re looking for. As I was explaining to him, we don’t carry those shirts in 4X or 5X.

CF*: Oh, I’m sure you do. Now I need you to go get them for me.

At this point, he was still trying to explain it to her.

ME: Ma’am, we don’t carry those. We only carry up to 3XL.

CF*: Then I need you to order them for me. This really shouldn’t be this difficult for you, you know. My husband and I would like to buy your shirts, and you should have the sizes your customers request.

ME: No, ma’am, these shirts are not made in 4X or 5X. It’s not just that we don’t carry your size.

CF*: Okay, I’m going to explain this slowly again. You don’t seem to get it. I need four XL and five XL to fit me and my husband.

Then, she really crossed the line.

At this point, I’m trying to restrain the rage building inside me like this woman restrains basic human decency and dietary regulation.

ME: Yes, ma’am, I understand what you’re looking for, but we don’t have it.

CF*: Can I talk to someone who isn’t slow?

ME: Unfortunately, no, ma’am. We exclusively employ slow people. Can I help you find something else?

Thankfully, the man came to his rescue.

CF* (giving over to anger instead of her holier-than-thou attitude now): Alright, listen here. I’m getting annoyed with you. Give me my shirts or let me speak to your manager.

ME: We do not carry your size, ma’am.

CF*: Now that is just rude! How dare you discriminate against my weight? Where is your manager! I–

At this point, the old man reaches out and plucks his phone from my hand. He’s heard the whole conversation because CF* had been screaming in my ear basically the entire time. He briefly tells CF* that he’s coming back to the house, and they’ll have to find something else, then shuts the phone.

Feeling bad, the old man apologized for the woman’s attitude.

OM: Sorry about that, son. She gets like that sometimes.

ME: I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any trouble. She seemed like a real treat. She always treat her family like that?

OM: Oh no, I’m not family. I’m her gardener.

ME: Oh.

After this, he wasn’t shopping for her shirts again.

OM: Yeah, and I’m done. The next time she wants to buy a shirt, she can roll her own fat *** down here and get it herself.

He walked out of the store as I laughed like a loon.

My manager got a call that afternoon from CF* and told her exactly what I had. She eventually filed a complaint with corporate about “fat discrimination” and was told to special order the **** shirts.

I never saw the old man again, but God bless him, I hope he’s somewhere her shrill little voice will never reach him again.

Wow. That woman really thinks she’s special or something.

Let’s check out what the readers over at Reddit think about what happened.

This person works on the other side of university merchandise.

Here’s someone who would not have been nice to the guy.

According to this plus-size person, they would never act like that.

And this person used to wear that same size and knows how hard it is to find.

Imagine acting like that!

No matter how loud the lady yells, the employee cannot sell her shirts that don’t exist.

Yet, rather than just moving on with her day, the woman kept pushing until even her own gardener had enough.

And judging by his reaction, this probably wasn’t the first time she had treated someone like that.