Category: Top

Dislike Father, Like Son

| Cincinnati, OH, USA | Bigotry, Language & Words, Top

(My father is having an issue with his prepaid cell phone that I haven’t been able to fix. I tell him to call the service provider. I am making dinner when I hear yelling in the other room, so I go running in.)

Operator: *with strong Indian accent* “Sir, can you please confirm your father’s middle name?”

Father: “What? What did you say? Speak English for the love of f***ing God!”

(Note: I have a head cold and am nearly deaf from the pressure in my ears, yet I understand the operator just fine.)

Operator: “I need you to confirm your security question, sir. Please, what is your father’s middle name?”

Father: “I don’t know what you’re saying! Why can’t you just fix my phone?”

Me: “Dad, give me the phone.”

(I proceed to spend 45 minutes on the phone with the operator trying to figure out what my lunatic father has done to his account. It turns out that he registered the account with his name and my mother’s information. The operator finally managed to fix everything and was just about to end the call.)

Father: “I want his name, address, and phone number before you hang up!”

Me: “Um… why?”

Father: “I’m going to complain about him. D*** foreigner needs to speak English! I can’t understand a thing he’s saying.”

Me: “Seriously? He just spent nearly an hour fixing the account you screwed up and you want to complain? What is wrong with you?” *to the operator on the phone* “Thank you for your help. I’ll handle my father from here…”

(Operator, wherever you are from, thank you for putting up with jacka**es like my dad. Not all of us are belligerent and bigoted.)

Related:
Dislike Father, Dislike Son
Like Son, Like Father
Like Father, Like Son

Seasonings Greetings

| Canada | Food & Drink, Liars & Scammers, Top

(It’s Christmas time, and I am tasked with handing out free bags of popcorn to shoppers.)

Manager: “Hey, I just got a complaint from a customer that this batch was too salty. Maybe cut it back a bit, then customers who want more salt can add it themselves.”

Me: “Sure, not a problem!”

(A couple batches later of adding barely any salt, an angry customer approaches me.)

Customer: “What the f*** is this?!”

Me: “Pardon?”

Customer: “What, is there a shortage on salt or are you just being cheap?!”

Me: “I’m sorry about that, but some customers don’t like much salt on their popcorn, and it’s easier to add more than it is to remove it after the fact. If you’d like more salt you’re welcome to add more.”

Customer: “This is f***ing bulls***! I shouldn’t have to add my own f***ing salt to my popcorn! I pay good money here!”

(Thankfully, my manager overhears this and walks up.)

Manager: *to the customer* “What money? You came to me earlier and complained the free popcorn you got was too salty. I asked my associate to cut back while you loitered around the store for half an hour, picked up another free bag only to complain again!”

Customer: *turns red and leaves*

Miss Management (Not Mrs)

| AZ, USA | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Liars & Scammers, Money, Top

(A couple comes up to my checkout with a large amount of sporting goods.)

Me: “Wow, looks like someone’s getting all their holiday shopping taken care of. Your total is [over $200].”

Customer: “Ugh, no, it isn’t. My husband here is a manager with your company, so we get the employee discount.”

Me: “Okay…” *leans over to the paging system* “Manager to register two, please.”

Customer: *surprised* “Why did you just call a manager?”

Me: “Because you said you and your husband were getting the employee discount.”

Customer: “Oh, what, and you don’t believe me? You think my husband can’t be a manager because we’re [race], is that it?!”

Me: “Huh? What are you talking about?”

Customer: “I’m talking about you calling the manager on us because you’re a f***ing racist. I’ll have you know we drive a BMW and have a lot more money than anyone here, especially a minimum wage nobody like you!”

(She goes on verbally attacking me, insulting my appearance, and just sounding generally crazy. Her husband is quietly standing behind her looking very nervous, but puts a restraining hand on her when she threatens to come behind the counter and teach me a lesson. At some point, the manager I paged approaches the counter.)

Manager: “Hey, how come you called?”

Customer: “Are you the manager? I have a complaint! Your employee here is a racist and should be fired for discrimination!”

Manager: “What happened?”

Customer: “Little-Miss-Hair-In-Her-Face over here called a manager when I told her my husband was getting the employee discount. We shop here all the time and we’ve never been treated with such disrespect.”

Manager: “Okay. Well, we can give you a discount once we get this cleared up.”

Customer: *shoots a smug nasty look at me*

Manager: “So, since you shop here all the time and work for our company, of course you know that in order to get checked out with an employee discount a store manager has to enter his number and authorization code. Now, I just need his employee number and you’re set.”

Customer: “…What?”

Manager: “The employee identification number, we all have one in our system. He does have one, right?”

Customer: “When I said he worked here, I was just kidding. But she called a manager because she’s a racist!”

Manager: “No, you weren’t kidding. You were trying to scam her. She called me because she was following the procedure to prevent people like you from getting away with it. I’m voiding your transaction. Please leave.”

Customer: “Oh, yeah? We’ll go to the news! Once everyone hears how racist this place is your store will be shut down!”

(The customer’s husband, who has been frozen in silence up until this point, suddenly speaks up.)

Husband: “No, you absolutely will not. You’ve already embarrassed us enough and dragged me into your bull****. Don’t even think about dragging me onto TV! I like this store. Now how am I supposed to show my face here? It’s bad enough to have a crazy, meana** girlfriend who lies like she breathes, but every time I take you out I’m lucky if the cops don’t get called. Now get in my crappy Volvo everyone can see from the window. I’m taking you home!”

(Just as the customer’s ‘husband’ said, he was not only not an employee, but he wasn’t even married to her. He came back to the store a few days later and apologized for her behavior, and told us he had dumped her that evening. Because he was so nice about it my manager told him he wasn’t banned, and when the guy tried to purchase some of the items he’d been trying to pick up the last time my manager gave him a small discount.)