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    Let Me Give You A Pizza My Mind

    | Lebanon, TN, USA | Family & Kids, Food & Drink, Top

    (I work at a pizza place that is within walking distance of my house. Our house number and the number for the restaurant are identical except that two numbers were swapped, so occasionally people accidentally call my house number. It is a Sunday, which is the one day the restaurant is closed.)

    Me: “Hello?”

    Caller: “Yes, hi. Can I get two large pepperoni–”

    Me: “I’m sorry sir, you have the wrong number. [Restaurant] is clo-”

    Caller: “No, this is [restaurant]! I recognize your voice! Don’t lie to me!”

    Me: “I’m sure you do, because I work there. But this is my house number, and it’s my day off because [restaurant] is closed today. If you call the right number–”

    Caller: “No, you’re not closed today! Now put in my f***ing order!”

    (I hang up on the guy because I do not like his attitude. He calls again, and I answer, this time with my dad listening in from the other room.)

    Caller: “You hung up on me!”

    Me: “Yes sir, I did. You have the wrong number, and the restaurant is closed.

    Caller: “Get me the owner! I’m having you fired!”

    Me: “Sir, he does not live with me and therefore I cannot.”

    Caller: “You stupid b****! Who the f*** do you think you are!?”

    (The guy starts screaming obscenities. My dad has been listening in and has had enough.)

    Dad: “Sir, if you’ve got a problem, you’re going to have to deal with me!”

    Caller: “Is this the manager?! Great! I want–”

    Dad: “No, this is her father. This is a private residence and I don’t want you calling here again. And if you have a problem with that, I want you to say it to my face.”

    Caller: “Fine! I’ll be right there!” *click*

    (The guy drives out to the restaurant, where my dad decides to wait for him outside. My father is 6’6″ and weighs nearly 300 lbs. I see the guy pull up to see my dad and the closed sign right behind where he is standing. His face turns completely white and he jumps back in his car and speeds off. When I go back to work the next day, the guy comes in for an order. He leaves a note of apology and a $20 tip in the tip jar.)

    How To Deal With Gritty Customers

    | Ohio, USA |

    (Our home phone number is very close to a local hardware and building supply store.)

    Me: “Hello?”

    Customer: “Yeah, I wanna order some gravel.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, you’ve got the wrong number. You want [correct number].”

    Customer: “That’s what I called!”

    Me: “No, it isn’t.  You’re trying to call [Supply Store]. This is a private residence.”

    (This goes on for eight sets of hang-up and call backs, with the guy getting nastier and nastier.)

    Customer: “Listen, lady.  I’m getting really tired of the run-around, so just take my d*** concrete order!”

    Me: “Fine, sir. That was 8 tons? It’ll be delivered around 4pm today.”

    PB&Js In My PJs

    | California, USA |

    Me: “Hello?”

    Male caller: “Hi, I’d like a #9 and–”

    Me: “Uh, excuse me?”

    Male caller: “That was a #9.”

    Me: “This isn’t a sandwich store.”

    Male caller: “No? Where am I calling?”

    Me: “My… house?”

    Male caller: “Oh. Can you make me a sandwich anyway?”

    Somebody Plays The Fool, Everytime

    | Tennessee, USA |

    (Our phone number is one digit off ¬†from a doctor’s office, so we get calls for them all the time.)

    Me: “Hello?”

    Lady: “Is this Dr. ******’s office?”

    Me: “No, ma’am. I’m sorry, but you have the wrong number.”

    Lady: “That’s impossible! Oh wait, I know what this is… this is some kind of April Fools’ joke!”

    Me: “No, ma’am. I can assure you that it is not.”

    Lady: “Yeah, uh huh. You’re good, but I would like to make an appointment and I will not take no for an answer.”

    Me: *sigh* “How is three-thirty?”

    Lady: “Wonderful! See you scamps then.” *click*

    Me, to my mom: “She told me I was playing an April Fools’ joke on her… in July.”

    Talk To The Click

    | Clermont-Ferrand, France |

    (Having moved, I got a new phone number which previously belonged to a retail store in Clermont-Ferrand. I had already had a few calls for that store, so I knew the drill.)

    Woman: “Hello, is this ***? I would like to know until when you are open.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, you dialed a wrong number. *** doesn’t have this number anymore. I’m pretty sure they closed.”

    Woman: “That’s not my problem! You didn’t answer my question. When do they close?”

    Me: “No, seriously, you’re calling me at home here. I’m sure that if you look in the yellow pa–”

    Woman: “Now look here, young man! I don’t have all day. Do you live in Clermont-Ferrand?”

    Me: “Well, actually I do, but–”

    Woman: “THEN TELL ME WHEN *** CLOSES! GO LOOK IT UP OR SOMETHING!”

    Me: “Seriously?”

    Woman: *calmly* “Yes.”

    Me: “I’m hanging up now.”

    Woman: “WHAT? DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE TALKING TO–”

    Me: *click*

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