A Big Mayo No No

| WA, USA | Right | August 14, 2015

(I am pregnant, and I find my brain occasionally ceases functioning. I often find myself at a loss for words. One night, while picking up dinner at a popular submarine sandwich shop, I confidently asked the young man making my sandwich for ‘brown mayonnaise.’)

Employee: “Excuse me?”

Me: “Brown mayonnaise?”

Employee: “I… but… brown? Mayonnaise?”

Me: “Yes, please! Just a little bit, though.”

Employee: “I’m just so sorry, but I’ve never heard of brown mayonnaise, and we definitely don’t have any. I have regular mayonnaise, light mayonnaise, yellow mustard, brow… oh!” *grabs his bottle of brown mustard and offers it to me just as my brains clicks on*

Me: “Did I seriously just ask you for brown mayonnaise, like, three times? I’m so sorry. Mustard. I definitely meant mustard.”

Employee: “Thank goodness, because brown mayonnaise does not sound good at ALL.”

(I had to agree.)

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Only Five Minutes Away From Crazy

| UK | Right | August 14, 2015

(I am working on the phones first thing in the morning at a busy medical centre. About half of our appointments are bookable in advance and half are on the day only. I take the third call of the day.)

Me: “Hello, [Centre]. How can I help?”

Patient: “Hello, dearie, I would like to book an appointment with [Doctor] at about 10 am. Do you have anything?”

(I check the computer system.)

Me: “Yes, we have an appointment at 10, actually.”

Patient: “Oh, that’s a bit early. Have you got anything else around that time?”

Me: “Yes, we have 10:10 or 10:20.”

Patient: “Well, both of those are a bit late; do you have anything at five past?”

(All our appointments last ten minutes, so we never have appointments at five past.)

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, we don’t do appointments at five past.”

Patient: “Bloody NHS! I’ve paid taxes my whole life and you can’t even give me an appointment around 10 am!” *click*

Experience Tells Me That You’re An Idiot

| IL, USA | Right | August 14, 2015

Me: *answering the phone* “Hello, [Company]. This is [My name]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Hello, [My Name]. Are you experienced enough to help me?”

Me: *having worked in this company for several years now* “I can certainly do my best. What can I do for you?”

(The customer proceeds to describe a sensitive issue that I immediately recognize is beyond my authority to address.)

Me: “Okay, you will need to speak with my manager. They will be able to address this issue with you and make sure that appropriate action is taken.”

Customer: “What is your manager’s name?”

Me: “Their name is [Manager].”

Customer: “And are you sure that they’ll be able to help me?”

Me: “Yes, I can assure you that they will be able to help you with this issue.”

Customer: “Well, put me through to them, then! This is why I asked if you were experienced in the first place!”

Me: “Of course. I’ll transfer you now.”

(I have to wonder how they expected me to know if I was “experienced” enough without knowing what the issue was in the first place!)

We’re All Crazy

| Right | August 14, 2015

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Not Always Right And Returns For A Fight

| Los Angeles, CA, USA | Right | August 13, 2015

(It’s relatively normal evening when an irate woman stomps up to the counter and slams a piece of paper down in front of my coworker.)

Lady: “I DEMAND to know who wrote this!”

(My coworker is taken aback but looks at the paper the woman has put on the counter.)

Coworker: “…Um.”

Lady: “WELL?!”

Coworker: “I’m, uh, sorry, but there’s no real way to know—”

Lady: “It SAYS it was written down in a shop like this! And this is EXACTLY how my argument was with one of your associates, VERBATIM!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry that you’re upset—”

Lady: “Upset!? I’m a LITTLE more than just f****** UPSET! This makes it seem like I’m in the wrong! I WAS NOT WRONG!! And I DEMAND to know who is responsible for this! I knew you were all unprofessional but this is ridiculous!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry you feel this way but I really don’t know how to help you. It says that this took place in California but I would have no idea who wrote this. I could ask around and tell my manager about this—”

Lady: “Yeah, you DO that. And I want whoever is responsible to remove this from the Internet. I am not in the wrong!”

Coworker: “I’m sure that—”

Lady: “I AM NOT IN THE WRONG!”

(She left with a huff and I went over to my coworker to see what the heck that was all about. Turns out the lady had actually printed out a screenshot of a story featured on Not Always Right! The lady returned an hour or two later asking for the paper back, as she realized she had gone to the wrong [Sandwich Shop] where she had had an explosion apparently similar to what the story entailed. She left without an apology or even a simple “thank you” but at least she indirectly helped us to find this website! And to the other [Sandwich Shop] workers within the area: be warned for the crazy lady with a piece of paper blaming her for having been in the wrong.)

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