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How Do You Deliver That Information?

, , , , , | Right | September 12, 2020

A woman in a severe business suit sweeps in to pick up a fairly large custom order early one morning.

Customer: “I’m here to pick up the order for [Company].” 

Me: “Oh, yes, good morning! I have it right here.”

I open one of the boxes to show her the intricate decorations. She glances briefly at the box and blows out an exasperated sigh.

Customer: “Ugh, next time, we’ll just have you deliver them. I can’t believe I had to come all the way out here.” 

Me: “Well, we aren’t actually able to offer delivery. We’re only a small company, and it’s pretty much just me running things.”

Customer: “Yeah. It’s way too far for me to come, but my client will probably—” *rolls eyes* “—want to use these, anyway. So, how does delivery work?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we can’t deliver; I’m here alone twelve hours a day.” 

Customer: *Glaring* “I’m asking how it works.” 

Me: *Helplessly* “It… doesn’t?” 

Customer: *Pursing her lips condescendingly* “Well, what courier service do you use?” 

Me: “We… don’t? If you require shipping, we use the USPS and ship first-rate Priority. I can’t really tell you how much it would cost off the cuff, however, bec—”

Customer: “I’m not asking how much it costs.”

She huffs impatiently and rolls her eyes.

Customer: “Whatever. Just ring me out so I can drive all the way back now.” 

Me: “Yes, ma’am. Your total is [total].” 

Customer: “That’s not what the girl on the phone said. She said it would be [significantly lower total].”

Note that “the girl on the phone” was me, and I know precisely what I quoted her. At this point, however, she is so hostile and acerbic that I just want to get her out of the shop.

Me: “Sorry for the confusion, ma’am. That will be [lower total], then.” 

Customer: *Sarcastically* “I need a receipt.”

She took the receipt and swept out of the shop again without another word.