If you have a contract with us, you can call for a technician. Experiences in the past have taught us that sometimes you are done within half an hour, and other times you need an hour and a half. So, to be able to help people and give a clear indication, we offer timeframes of four hours. Experiments with making that timeframe shorter have failed, and the technician can take up to three appointments in that block. (If the technician is done sooner, we have several “no attendance required and not urgent” appointments we can do whenever.)

At 10:00 am, I get a call in English. While I’m quite decent with typing in English, speaking it isn’t always that great because I’m put on the spot. The man has a very heavy accent and is mumbling, making him sometimes hard to understand.

Me: *In Dutch* “Thank you for calling. How may I help you?”

Client: *In English* “I have an appointment, but I can’t find the time anymore.”

Me: *Switching to English* “Let me check this for you. I see that you made an appointment for today between eight and twelve. Let me call the technician and ask if he’s on his way.”

I call the technician, and the client is indeed next on the list. He just needs to finish things up, and then he’s on his way. Great! I relay this to the client.

Client: “How far away is he?”

Me: “I didn’t ask for his exact location, but he said he’s almost on his way and expects to be there soon.”

Client: “This is unacceptable! This is Holland! We made an appointment!”

Me: “Yes, we did, between eight and twelve.”

Client: “I can’t wait for twelve hours for someone to come! This is Holland! An appointment is an appointment!”

Me: “Sir, you selected the timeframe; we are just following what you selected.”

Client: “I had no choice! I demand that the technician be here within minutes!”

Me: “That is unfortunately impossible. He’s still on his way and will be there soon.”

Client: “This is Holland! This is Holland! We don’t make appointments within time frames. When we make an appointment, we get a specific time! Give me the technician’s number!”

Me: “I will not do that, bu—”

Client: “I will not wait for six hours! I have other things to do. I must bring back things I borrowed!”

Me: “Sir, timeframes do happen more often, and within your contract—”

Client: “You are not listening! This is Holland! Give me the technician’s number, now!“

Me: “Sir, I will not. I am able to ask him if he will call you, but if he’s driving, he cannot call you back.”

Client: “He can call hands-free! And tell him to call me, so I have his number and then I can talk to him! Procedures… I have my own schedule! You are being very rude! You are a racist! This is Holland! I will leave my door open, and if he’s not here within twenty minutes, he can go inside while I’m not here! And then he can fix it!”

The man continued to scream and eventually hung up. I did call my technician back, and I informed him of what the client had said. The technician laughed and joked that he would grab a cup of coffee first. After all, he had two more hours before the end of the timeframe. I hope I’ll get an update, but that’s at the technician’s discretion. 

This is the first time I have been called racist for following the appointment the client made themselves.

(I buy a cheese pastry in a supermarket and, after paying for it, I sit down at a table they have in there for people to rest during their shopping or wait for other shoppers to finish and I start eating it.)

Lady: *keeps staring intensely at my pastry*

Me: “Would you like to have a piece?”

Lady: “Oh, no, I really don’t like cheese.”

Me: “Oh, okay. Thankfully, I do.”

Lady: “Yeah… No, I really don’t like cheese.”

Me: “Okay.”

Lady: “If I ate only a small piece of cheese I would vomit.”

Me: “…”

Lady: “Yes, I would vomit right away. I really, really don’t like cheese. I think it’s really disgusting. For my entire life, I never liked it. I don’t even want to think about eating it. Cheese is disgusting.”

Me: “…”

Lady: “You know, if there was one thing I could ban from the world completely, it would be: fruit juice with apple juice mixed in it, cheese, and red peppers, but seriously, those are really dangerous.”

(Thankfully, I enjoyed the rest of my pastry in silence.)

(I work at this small IT office. The boss’s wife is one of my coworkers; she can be very bossy and has a temper. I have worked here for almost a year now, mostly ignoring her outbursts.)

Me: “Good morning. I am calling you for a ticket that was made by your company yesterday. It was issued by Mr. [Employee].”

Company: “Sorry, but Mr. [Employee] is not available right now; he is sick at home.”

(Ten minutes later I hear the boss’s wife talking to another coworker.)

Boss’s Wife: “I still need to call Mr. [Employee]. He wanted to talk to me about some pricing issues.”

Me: “Oh, he’s sick. I’ve just talked to his company on the phone.”

Boss’s Wife: “STOP LISTENING IN! I’M GROWN UP; I CAN MAKE MY OWN CALLS. IF I WANT TO CALL HIM, I WILL!”

Me: “Wow, calm down. Sorry. I did not mean to decide for you. I just heard you saying his name… and you are sitting next to me.”

Boss’s Wife: “YOU HAVE NO REASON TO LISTEN IN ON MY CONVERSATION. I WILL TAKE THIS TO THE BOSS!”

(She runs out, clearly very angry.)

Coworker: “Well, now you’ve done it. You’ve been the twelfth new guy to piss her off. It was nice knowing you.”

Me: “She can’t seriously fire someone over this… can she?”

(And yes, two hours later, I was given two minutes to clear my desk, without even a chance to say goodbye to my colleagues.)

(I work in a retro gaming store. We sell both modern consoles and retro consoles. I am working in the retro department when a middle-aged female customer comes up to the desk. We don’t complete purchases, just advise and assist customers.)

Customer: “I am looking for a Zelda or Mario game for the PlayStation 2.”

Me: “Ma’am, those characters are property of Nintendo; the PlayStation 2 is made by Sony a competitor.”

Customer: “Yes, but I used to play Zelda and Mario as a child. You wouldn’t know anything about old consoles; you are too young.”

(I am a 20-plus-year-old guy who, thanks to a short height and a clean shave, looks like I’m 16. I grew up with the NES and SNES and other consoles due to my mother playing them, and they still work.)

Me: “Ma’am, I can assure you I still own almost every console that is for sale here and play them regularly. Now, would you like me to look for games that are Mario or Zelda-like for the PlayStation?”

Customer: *huffs* “Well, if you don’t have them as you ‘acclaim’ I’ll have to look for them myself.”

(She walks to the Xbox Classic section of the store.)

Me: “[Coworker], could… could you explain to her that the PlayStation 2 games are here… I’m gonna take my five now.”

(I work at the service counter at a big retailer in the area. Today has been a pretty bland day. A elderly customer has just come up with a value-size peanut butter to return.)

Me: “Hi, sorry about the wait. What can I do for you?”

Customer: “I want to return this.”

Me: “Is there anything wrong with it?”

Customer: “Yes, it has peanuts in it.”

(And no, she did not mean that it was crunchy peanut butter. I waited until after she left to laugh about it.)