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    Not Quite On Top Of Her Game

    | MD, USA | Bad Behavior, Criminal/Illegal, Technology, Theme Of The Month

    (I work as a slot machine technician. While we do occasionally talk with customers, they’re not our primary concern. In the event of a customer dispute, we’re to call a supervisor and let them handle it from there. I’m flagged down by a flustered customer while walking the floor. She is playing a very popular game. Her English is halting at best.)

    Customer: “This game stole my $20! You gimme $20!”

    Me: “Let me take a look at it, ma’am.”

    (I open the game and check the device that accepts bills; nothing is inside. I next check the machine’s logs, and see that a $20 bill was indeed inserted only a few moments earlier, but that exact $20 was then cashed out 10 seconds later with no games played.)

    Me: “Ma’am, it appears the $20 was cashed out 10 seconds after it was put in.”

    Customer: “No! It stole it! Gimme my $20!”

    (I call for a supervisor. It’s a very busy Friday night, and it takes 15 minutes for one to finally come by. In the meantime, the lady has gotten more agitated.)

    Supervisor: “Hey, what’s up?”

    Me: “This customer says the machine ate her $20, but the machine’s logs say that the $20 was cashed out 10 seconds later.”

    Supervisor: “Thanks, I’ve got this.”

    (My supervisor approaches the customer.)

    Supervisor: “Ma’am, the machine says you cashed out your $20.”

    Customer: “No! It took my $20! Gimme $20!”

    Supervisor: “Ma’am, I’m not giving you $20.”

    (The look on her face is something like rage, disbelief and heartbreak. She eventually storms off, getting nothing for her troubles. After talking with a few other techs, it turns out she has tried this at a few other games in the casino that night, with the exact same result.)

    Takes One To Serve One

    | CA, USA |

    Worker: “Thank you for calling [insurance company]. My name is [name]. How may I help you today?”

    Me: “Hi, my name is [full name]. I went online to get a quote from your company yesterday, and I would like to get my car insurance through you guys. My confirmation number is [number].”

    Worker: “Great! I can help set that up for you. Could I have your name and the last four numbers of your social security number?”

    (I repeat my name, not even thinking about it, and my social.)

    Worker: “Oh, wow, now I feel stupid. You already gave me your name! Wait… you didn’t get upset or anything; you just went along with the program.”

    Me: *laughs* “Yeah, I guess I didn’t even think anything of it.”

    Worker: “Well, I appreciate it. Most customers would have been upset, claiming I didn’t listen or whatever. Okay, next question: what is your area of employment?”

    Me: “I’m a customer service representative.”

    Worker: “Ah, no wonder.”

    That Makes Two Of Us

    | Las Vegas, NV, USA |

    Caller: “Hi, I’m returning a call here?”

    Me: “Yes? Are you looking for health insurance?”

    Caller: “Well, yes.”

    Me: “Great! Do you have the name of who called you? If not, I can just transfer you to an available agent.”

    Caller: “Well, that’s the thing. I have a note and it says Linda.”

    Me: “Okay, well—”

    Caller: “Do you have a Linda? Because my name is Linda, and I’m worried I just wrote my own name down.”

    Me: “We have a Linda. I’ll transfer you.”

    Caller: “Oh, thank goodness!”

    Mail Disorder

    | Los Angeles, CA, USA |

    (The office where I work is fairly small, which results in me overhearing the receptionists’ half of the phone conversations with some of our clients.)

    Coworker: “[Office's name], how can I help you?”

    (The client talks, coworker answers the usual questions.)

    Coworker: “Ma’am, I understand that but we can’t open your mail to check it for you.”

    (The client continues talking.)

    Coworker: “Yes, but as I said earlier, we can’t open your mail to check. It’s best that you get a P.O. box.”

    (The client is talking again and is apparently upset, as the coworker has a frustrated/annoyed look on her face.)

    Coworker: “Ma’am, you’ve called us many times in the past before, and we’ve said it many times before. We really recommend you to get a P.O. box, because we legally can not open your mail to check.”

    (Eventually, the client hangs up.)

    Me: “Not the first time?”

    Coworker: “Won’t be the last.”

    Causing A Storm

    | West Point, NY, USA |

    (The week after Hurricane Sandy, gas is rationed in several counties, including mine. I am a customer at a gas station on a military base. There are signs at every pump that say you must pay inside, 100% ID check, and ten gallon limit.)

    Me: *to the clerk* “$20 on pump one, please.”

    (As I say this, another customer storms inside.)

    Customer: “Excuse me! Why won’t the stupid pump take my card? I’ve been out there for five minutes, I don’t have time for this!”

    Clerk: “I’m very sorry. Pay-at-the-pump has been turned off until the gas shortage is over. I will be happy to process your transaction when I am finished helping this customer.”

    Customer: *nearly pushes me* “No, I was here first! I need $75 on pump 5, hurry up!”

    (The clerk finishes putting through my cash transaction and takes the customer’s credit card.)

    Clerk: “There is a limit of ten gallons per customer, and I must see your military ID before I can process you.”

    Customer: “What do you mean ten gallons?! I need to fill my car up! I have things to do today, and I don’t have my ID with me. It’s at home.”

    Clerk: “I’m sorry. I cannot sell you gas today without it.”

    Customer: “Listen you, my husband is a Colonel! I don’t have to take this from you. You will put $75 on my pump; I don’t have time for this!”

    (A military police officer has been listening to the whole exchange and walks over. Note that he is a specialist—a low-rank enlisted.)

    Military Police Officer: “Ma’am, these rules come down from the Base Commander. Please stop harassing the clerk, go get your ID, and come back.”

    Lady: “You can’t tell me what to do, specialist! I’m going to call my husband right now; I’ll have your rank! You’ll be doing extra duty for the next year!”

    Military Police Officer: “Actually, ma’am, I can tell you what to do. Why don’t we go talk about it at the MP Station? Your husband can come and pick you up from there.”

    Editor’s note: Although this story tells the lighter side of things, the devastation caused by Sandy is very serious. Click here to visit FEMA’s dedicated Sandy page and learn how you can donate and volunteer.

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