Unfiltered Story #97193

I work as a floor supervisor in a pizza delivery call centre, where we take the incoming calls for all of our stores. A few of our locations are open for lunch, but most don’t open until mid afternoon. It was about 2PM when one of my staff transferred an irate caller to me.

Me: “Thank you for holding, [MyName] speaking.”

Customer: “Are you the f***** boss, you f***** b****?”

Me: [somewhat taken aback] “I’m the supervisor on duty, if that’s what you mean, sir.”

Customer: “Then you’re the g**d**** f***** c*** I want to talk to! Your f***** useless g**d**** piece of s*** staff won’t make my f***** pizza!”

Me: “Sir, I’m happy to help in any way I can, but I need you to stop swearing.”

Customer: “Don’t you f****** tell me to stop f******* swearing, you f***** b****! I want you to get your lazy g**d**** f***** a** into the back right this f****** minute and make my g**d**** f***** pizza, or I’m going to make you very f**** sorry!”

I enter the customer’s phone number into my computer and see that he is calling from a city 500 km away. Furthermore, the shop that delivers to this individual will not open for another two hours.

Me: “Sir, the shop that delivers to you doesn’t open until 4PM.”

Customer: “Don’t you f***** lie to me, you g**d**** f***** s**** a**** piece of f**** s****! If you were really f***** closed, nobody would have answered the g**d**** f**** phone, you useless f***** b****! Now you are going to get your lazy worthless fat f***** a** into the f****** back and make my g**d**** f****** pizza right this f****** minute, and I’m not going to f***** pay one f***** cent for it either, because you’re nothing but a stupid f****** c*** who couldn’t f***** count my f***** change!!”

[I had to stuff a fist in my mouth to cover a giggling fit at the word ‘fat” because at the time I was almost 20 lb underweight.]

Me [when I had control of my voice again]: “Sir, I can’t do that. I’m not in one of the stores, I’m in a call centre. And the call centre is not even in Saskatoon. It’s in Edmonton.”

Customer: [screaming] “I don’t give a g**d**** f*** where you f**** are, I just want my f***** pizza, you worthless f***** piece of f***** s****!!”

[The volume of his screams was physically painful. I had to hold the headset away from my ear until he stopped yelling. I took the opportunity to quickly check the internet for the next available flight to his city.]

Me: “Very well, sir. The total price for your pizza will be $498.37, including tax, delivery, and my plane fare. I should be arriving in Saskatoon at approximately 5:30 and I expect it will take another half hour at least to get from the airport to the shop. You can expect to receive your pizza about 30-40 minutes after that.”

Customer: “What the f*** are you f**** talking about?”

Me: “As I already told you, sir, I’m not even in the same province as you are. If you really want me to come down and make a pizza for you, I’m happy to oblige, but you’ll need to reimburse me for the plane ticket and allow enough time for the flight to arrive.”

Customer: “F*** you, b****1” [click]