Shipping Nightmares
I work for a brand known primarily for selling items such as newspapers, books, and stationery. We also provide a service where a customer can bring a parcel in to send via a particular delivery service, usually to other countries. They usually fill out some information online at home, print it out, and bring that paperwork in along with the parcel when they come into the store. However, this isn’t something I usually do; it’s usually left to either my manager or the two supervisors.
Yesterday, I was the unfortunate person who got to deal with the customer in the following story.
I was serving customers on the till and finished dealing with the queue, and then a very rude lady came up to me, threw an envelope on the counter, and said that she wanted it sent by [Delivery Company]. Obviously, I didn’t know how to process it, so I asked my supervisor if she could help me. The lady gave me the filthiest look ever, and this didn’t change as my supervisor proceeded to talk me through the process.
I got through most of the process, thanks to the help, but then my supervisor had to go help someone on the self-checkout. However, she told me how to finish up and I thought I’d be okay from that point. Unfortunately, a minute later, I realised there was some slight confusion as to what paperwork I had to insert into the envelope and what paperwork I had to give back to the lady. All I did was ask my supervisor to be sure.
Supervisor: “No problem, I’ll just finish helping this customer and I’ll come and check.”
Rude Lady: “No, you’ll come and do it now. I need this done. She—” *gesturing to me* “—doesn’t know what she’s doing!”
Supervisor: “I promise, I’ll be thirty seconds. I just need to—”
Rude Lady: “NOW!”
I have to give the utmost credit to my supervisor here for keeping her composure. She came over, finished helping me with the process — [Rude Lady] obviously glaring at us both throughout — and we thought that was the end of it. But then…
Rude Lady: “This had better get there with no issues. You—” *pointing at me* “—clearly don’t know what you’re doing. I’ve paid a lot of money for this, and if anything goes wrong, I’ll—”
Supervisor: “Actually, the only reason it wouldn’t get there would be if you entered any incorrect information when filling out the information you did at home. All we do on this end is process it through the [Delivery Company] website using the information you gave us. So, if by some miracle anything does go wrong, it won’t be my colleague’s fault or mine. Will that be everything?”
All the rude lady did then was smirk, give one last filthy look, and march out of the store.
Me: “Be right back, I need to scream… or throw something… or write my letter of resignation.”
Supervisor: “Not before me, you don’t!”