You Can’t Stop The Music

| Right | September 19, 2013

Jump On Your Children

| Right | September 19, 2013

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Whatever Happened To Customer Service

| Right | September 19, 2013

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A Theatrical Reaction

| NY, USA | Right | September 19, 2013

(I am a greeter at the movie theater, so I rip the tickets. There are two of the same movies playing up the stairs. The movie that started is in theater four, and the movie that is about to start is in theater five. I greet a couple.)

Me: “Are you here to see [movie title]? Previews should just be going on.”

Customer: “Yeah, I heard that it is great.”

Me: “Your movie will be in theater five up the stairs.”

Customer: “Thanks.”

(Note: theater five should now be in previews. Shortly after the couple leaves, I hear someone running down the stairs. It is the same customer from the couple as before.)

Customer: “What is this bull-s***?! I want to see a manager NOW!”

Me: “What seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “You told me [movie] was in previews! When I got into the theater, the previews didn’t even go on, and it went straight into the movie! This is an outrage!”

Me: “How can that be? The movie should just be getting into previews!”

Customer: “I want a f****** refund, and I want your manager now!”

(Her husband jumps into the conversation.)

Customer’s Husband: “This is an outrage! I can’t stand people who lie! I want a refund for this horrible service.”

Me: “Well, what theater did you go into?”

Customer’s Husband: “We went into theater four.”

(I just look at them at this point. They went into the wrong theater.)

Customer: “Yeah, someone told us when we got up to the second floor that the movie was in four!”

Me: “Ma’am, there is no one up stairs that works for the theater. What your ticket stub says, is what your movie is in.”

Customer: “Oh, I am so sorry honey! I thought that we were going to the right theater.”

Me: “It is fine, ma’am. Previews should just be ending so I would hurry.”

(They both go up the stairs. I look at my coworker.)

Coworker: “I wanted to jump in, but I didn’t know how to.”

Me: “It’s fine; I don’t really mind. I just let them yell at me and then use a calm voice to confuse them.”

Coworker: “Note taken.”

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Full-Blown Self-Serve

| Beverly Hills, CA, USA | Right | September 19, 2013

(I am a caregiver, driving my client’s car to a gas station. My client is a reasonably well-off widow of a Hollywood big shot.)

Me: “Do you want self-serve or full service?”

Client: “Self is fine.”

(As I pull into the pump, I pass an employee sweeping outside the building.)

Client: “Honk at him!”

Me: “Um… why?”

Client: “To get him to help us.”

Me: “Oh, so you want full service?”

Client: “No, I just want him to come here and put the thing in, and check the oil.”

Me: “Um, I can do that. I pump my own gas all the time.”

Client: “I know dear. I don’t care. I want him to do it.”

(My client gets out of the car and flags down two separate employees, who pump her gas and check her fluids. She pays and we leave.)

Me: “So, you did want full service. Why did you want me to go to self-serve?”

Client: “It’s cheaper!”

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