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A customer walks up to me in the produce department. It is clear that English is not his first language.
Customer: “I look for broccoli, but like, if it was ghost.”
Me: “Broccoli if it was a ghost?”
Customer: “Yes.”
Light bulb!
Me: “Do you mean… cauliflower?”
Customer: “Maybe? You show me?”
I bring him to the cauliflower.
Customer: “Yes! Ghost broccoli! Thank you!”
I started getting telemarketer calls for a few days. I blocked one number, and they called again under a different one. They had the same script every single time. Finally, I’d had enough.
My phone’s ringtone is a duck’s quack. The very next time they called, I started quacking like a duck, over and over again. Then, when a live person came on the line:
Me: “Welcome to the dog farm!”
We have five dogs, and I live on a hay farm.
So far, so good; they have not called back. Sometimes a little crazy can go a long way!
We recently outsourced our phones and scheduling to a call center when outside normal hours: It used to be if someone called when we were not open, it would go to an answering machine. Now it goes to a service that tries to set them up with an appointment.
I’m checking the schedule, and I see that a client has somehow been scheduled at 8:30 AM on Thursday with a doctor who doesn’t work Thursdays. Also, we open at 9 AM.
I call the client.
Me: “Hi. Somehow you got scheduled with a doctor who’s not here at a time when we’re not open. Would you like to reschedule to fix this?”
Client: “I called in, and they said it was okay over the phone.”
Me: “Unfortunately it wasn’t. If you had attempted to come at that time and with that doctor, not only would no one be able to see you, we’re fully booked tomorrow, but the doors would be locked when you arrived.”
Client: “Yeah, the person I talked to seemed to be having some trouble accommodating me. I need that particular doctor, she’s the only one familiar with my situation, I need a morning appointment and I need one soon.”
Me: “Okay. She’s only available in the evenings. She’s got a second job teaching at a nearby college in the mornings. Can I schedule you for the evening, or do you need a different doctor?”
Client: “See, neither of those are acceptable. I work evenings. I need her in the morning, and I need it to be her.”
Me: “Okay, we have some appointments for her in the morning during the summer, is that alright?”
Client: “No. It needs to be fast.”
Me: “I’m sorry. I cannot accommodate you.”
Client: “I’ll be there for my original appointment at 8:30 tomorrow then. You’d better be there.” *Click.*
I let security know what was about to go down. Sure enough, he showed up at 8:30 and made an annoyance of himself by slamming on the doors and throwing things at the window until security pointedly asked him to leave.
Related:
About To Be Dis-Appointed, Part 10
About To Be Dis-Appointed, Part 9
About To Be Dis-Appointed, Part 8
About To Be Dis-Appointed, Part 7
About To Be Dis-Appointed, Part 6
This story reminded me of why I used to drive fifteen miles past three other grocery stores to shop at my favorite one.
My son was five years old and not exactly the best at remembering anything. For example, he’d forget he was clutching one of his favorite toys, or he’d forget that we don’t live in the grocery store.
We were about to check out when he said:
Son: “I left Mr. Mouse on a shelf.”
Me: “Which shelf?”
He just shrugged. Terrific.
I asked at the customer service desk if anyone had turned in a palm-sized stuffed mouse with half of a plastic Easter Egg on its head. (What can I say? My child was creative.) No one had. I looked through the aisles where we’d gone, but the mouse never turned up.
As I was leaving, they asked me if I’d found it. They seemed genuinely concerned.
Well, they seemed genuinely concerned because they WERE genuinely concerned.
Whatever transpired next in the store must have involved an aisle-by-aisle search with walkie-talkies and storewide announcements, scouring the place from top to bottom, hunting for Mr. Mouse. By the time I got home, I had a message on my voicemail. Mr. Mouse was secured, orange helmet and all.
We put away the groceries and returned to the store. I made sure my son thanked everyone he could.
My parents own a drive-thru coffee shop. It’s a mom-and-pop kind of place; people come for the service and quality. Drive-thru is a perk, but you order and are served at the window, not fast-food style.
One day, this car in line just starts honking away. They’re not trapped in the drive-thru and can easily pull away, but instead, they sit behind a person who has just placed their order and honk away.
When they finally get to the window, my dad asks:
Dad: “Was that you honking?”
Customer: *Impatiently* “Well, yeah.”
Dad: “We don’t serve rude people.”
With that, he closed the window on them! They started honking again, but my dad told them if they didn’t leave, he’d call the police on them for trespassing. The honking mysteriously stopped after that…
