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Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 5

| CA, USA | Right | December 21, 2013

(I own a coffee shop in a small town. My best friend is the manager and head barista. I am pretty young and inherited the place from family. I have come in for some coffee and to do some paperwork for a new hire. I am in line behind a very disgruntled customer.)

Customer: “You don’t have any authority to kick me out, you s***! I can do as I like. This is America. Only the owner can kick me out and he is never here. I am good friends with [Former Owner] and his whole family. So get me my drink on the house or I am going to have you fired. Do it now!”

Me: “Excuse me? You said you know [Former Owner]?”

Customer: “Well, yes. He is going to be so angry!”

Me: “Then you would have attended his funeral last March. You would also know that he never stood for abusive people in his shop.”

Customer: “How do you know this, you little snot? What are you, in high school?”

Me: “Actually, I am 25. My uncle passed away last year after battling cancer. I have been working at this shop since I was 15. He left it to me in the will. I own this shop. You have no right to speak to the barista, or anyone, that way. Please get out of my shop. The next time you show up you will be arrested.”

Customer: “You are missing out, young lady. I have never been so offended in my life! How dare you talk to me like that!?”

(My friend, the barista, feels the need to interject.)

Barista: “How dare you act like a child?! You make sexist, crude remarks every time you come in, you a**. I am lucky to work here. I have a very understanding boss. You are nothing but a bully. Get out of here and don’t come back.”

(The customer looks towards me.)

Me: “You heard my barista. Get out of my store.”

Customer: “Fine! But you are missing out!”

(The customer storms out of coffee store.)

Barista: “Thank you.”

Me: “I am going to give you a raise for that.”

Barista: “I thought I was going to be fired.”

Me: “Nope. That was hilarious.”

(She has worked for me for about five years now and has been made a partner!)

Related:
Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 4
Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 3
Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 2
Getting Owned By The Owner

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Arguing To The Bitter End

, | USA | Right | December 21, 2013

(First thing in the morning we had a mishap which resulted in both our tea urns to be filled with sweet tea. Unfortunately, several customers got sweet tea instead of unsweet before we noticed the mix up.)

Coworker: *over headset* “Look out! This customer got the wrong tea and is really mad!”

(As my coworker speaks, a customer speeds up to my window. As soon as I open the window she throws her tea at me and starts screaming.)

Customer: “I’ll get you b******s for this! How dare you do this to me! I demand compensation for my troubles! You little s***s could have killed me!”

(Although soaked in sticky tea, I make her a new drink. I get an okay from my manager to pacify her with a small dessert item. Meanwhile, she has been screaming through the closed window the whole time.)

Me: “Here is your tea, ma’am. Again, I’m sorry for the mix up.”

Customer: “Don’t you lie to me. I know you don’t give a s*** about me or any of your other customers!”

Me: “In any case, ma’am, my manager has offered you a small dessert item for your troubles. We have chocolate chip or oatmeal cookies. We also have hot apple pies.”

Customer: “I can’t have any of that crap! I can’t have any sugar or I’ll DIE! See, you don’t care at all. Lying little b****! I’ll never eat here again!”

(Later in my shift during lunch, a very familiar woman comes up to the counter and targets me.)

Customer: “You! You need to get me two dozen of each of your cookies. Make it fast!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. Four dozen cookies comes to [price].”

Customer: “Oh, h*** no! I was told I’d get them for free! You f*****d up my order this morning. The manager said I could have free cookies! Just ask them.”

Me: “Ma’am, I assure you the manager did not agree to give you four dozen cookies for free.”

Customer: “Yes, they did! I hope you’re fired for this. You are just as rude as that little b**** that sabotaged my order!”

Me: “Ma’am, I did not sabotage your order. While I did offer you a small bag of cookies or an apple pie this morning, you turned it down. At no point was there ever an agreement that you could come in at your discretion and demand cookies from us. I’m sorry, ma’am. I must ask you to leave if you are not going to place an order.”

(A look of slow realization passes her face when she recognizes me as the employee she harassed earlier.)

Customer: “Well, fine! I didn’t want your crummy cookies anyway!”

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Acting Cuckoo

| Right | December 21, 2013

Pre-Op Chop Chop

| USA | Working | December 21, 2013

(I need to schedule a pre-operative physical exam with my primary care physician (PCP). Since she books up quickly, I call three months ahead of time to make the appointment.)

Me: “Hi. This is [My Name]. I need to schedule an appointment in September with my PCP for a pre-operative physical.”

Receptionist: “Okay. How about 4 pm on September 9th?”

Me: “This is a pre-op physical exam, and those take a while. 4 pm seems awfully late in the day to get everything done.”

Receptionist: *frosty* “I REALIZE that! That will be plenty of time. Do you want the appointment or not?”

Me: “Sure. That’s fine. 4 pm on September 9th with my PCP for a pre-op physical.”

(Two weeks later, I am talking to the surgeon’s scheduler and going through the checklist with her. My surgeon and my primary care physician are in the same network. Anyone in the network can see all my appointments with any network provider.)

Scheduler: “Now, what about your pre-op physical? When were you going to schedule that?”

Me: “Oh, I did that already. I’m set up with my PCP for September 9th.”

Scheduler: “I see that appointment. But, they’ve just got it described as a follow-up. They don’t have enough time blocked for all the pre-op testing.”

Me: *sighs* “Okay. I’ll call them back and explain it again.”

(I call the clinic back again.)

Me: “Hi. This is [My Name]. I’m calling about my appointment on September 9th. The surgeon’s scheduler says you don’t have that appointment described as a pre-op physical. She also says you don’t have enough time set aside for all the tests.”

Receptionist: “Well, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I clearly shows that this is a pre-op physical. There will be PLENTY of time.”

Me: “Are you sure? I know a pre-op physical includes lab work, EKG, x-ray—”

Receptionist: “I SAID, there is plenty of time. Do you still want this appointment or shall I cancel it?”

Me: “I’ll keep the appointment. Thank you.”

(Two and a half months later, it is the day of my appointment. I am at work. My phone rings.)

Receptionist: “This is [Receptionist] from the clinic! I’m calling about your appointment today!”

Me: “Yes. I got the reminder call yesterday. I will be there.”

Receptionist: “Did you realize this is a pre-op physical?!”

Me: “Um, yes. That’s what I told you when I made the appointment three months ago, and what I told you when I called back about it two and a half months ago.”

Receptionist: “But that’s not enough time for a pre-op physical!”

Me: “I know that. I told you that when I made the appointment three months ago. I told you again two and a half months ago.”

Receptionist: “We have to do blood work! And urinalysis! And a chest x-ray! And an EKG! There’ll never be enough time to do all that and still see the doctor!”

Me: “Yes. Exactly as I told you repeatedly several months ago.”

Receptionist: “Can you come in earlier than your appointment so we can get all that done? Can you be here by 3:30?”

Me: “Yes. I can get there 30 minutes early.”

Receptionist: “Oh, good! But you know, if you ever need a pre-op physical like this again, you really need to tell us when you make the appointment. We can’t always move the schedule around at the last minute like this, to accommodate you.”

Me: “Um. Yeah. Right. I’ll try to remember that.”

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Social Insecurity

| Austin, TX, USA | Working | December 21, 2013

(I’m calling my insurance company for info about my policy. I’m asked for my policy number. I don’t have it on me so I asked for him to look it up by social security number.)

Me: *gives social security number*

Representative: “Please verify your name.”

Me: *gives name*

Representative: “And your date of birth.”

Me: *gives date of birth*

Representative: “Now, please verify the last four digits of your social.”

Me: *pause* “You mean the last four digits of my social, that I gave you in whole to look up my policy?”

Representative: “…Yes.”

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