Camped Out To Catch Them Out

, , , , , | Right | March 16, 2019

I am in fifth grade. My mom runs a summer equestrian camp for kids. It is very popular and fills up very quickly every year, so she operates on a first-come-first-serve basis where any applications received before April 1st will not be looked at until that date.

This particular summer, one woman is extremely persistent in making sure her two kids get into the camp, submitting their applications several weeks before April 1st and contacting my mom every few days to see if she has looked at them yet, which, of course, she hasn’t. The woman’s persistence gets rather annoying, but nonetheless, both of her kids get into one of the camp’s sessions.

Fast-forward to the first day of camp: neither of the kids shows up. After the day ends, my mom contacts their mother to see what happened and make sure everything is okay. The woman apologizes and says that both of the kids were not feeling well that day, but will definitely be in tomorrow. The next day goes by — still neither one comes in. This time, the woman contacts my mom, apologizes again, and says that she forgot both of them had doctors’ appointments that day — that were apparently the length of an entire day of camp — but they will definitely be in the next day.

That night at dinner, my mom is telling us about all this and happens to mention the name of one of the kids. I recognize his name, as I went to school with him… and I realize that I’ve seen him the past two days at a different summer camp I am currently attending. My mom asks me if I’ve also seen his sister there, and I believe I have.

Long story short: rather than fessing up to double-booking her kids in two different camps, the woman tried to repeatedly lie to my mom about why they weren’t showing up to hers. The next day, when my dad picked me up, he made sure to wave and smile at the woman. She froze in her tracks, recognizing him as my mom’s husband, and meekly waved back.

Email Is Not The Call

, , , | Right | March 16, 2019

(I work in a call center taking calls for both customers and the other people who help them. I’m still fairly new; I’ve only been here three weeks, and just barely learned all of this. Today, I was having a great day up until this happened.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Service]. My name is [My Name]. How can I help you today?”

Customer: *want to clarify this is not actually a customer of the service, but one of the people who help the customers* “Hi. I would like to see if there is any way to get the hours that I missed when I was accidentally kicked off my shift.”

Me: “I would definitely be happy to look into that for you. It will only take a moment, if you wouldn’t mind waiting.”

(I reach out to someone else to see if there is anything I can do, but I am advised to have the “customer” email in.)

Me: “Thank you for being patient with me! Unfortunately, there is nothing that I will be able to do on my end. What you can do, though, is email in to [email address], and someone in that department should be able to help you further.”

Customer: “That’s BS. I was told to call, and you say you can’t help me. It’s probably your fault that this happened! It’s not fair! How is it fair that you get to work fine, while I was wrongfully booted and won’t get paid?!”

Me: “I am sorry, and I really wish I could—“


Me: “Sir, I’m sorry, but there is nothing we, on the phones, can—“

Customer: “Stop BS-ing me! I want a supervisor, and I want them now!”

Me: “Okay, I can get you one, if you wouldn’t mind ho—“

Customer: “You’ve got to be f****** kidding me! I shouldn’t have to wait! GET ME SOMEONE NOW!”

Me: “Sir, I will get you someone; however, I will need to place you on ho—“

(The customer gets extremely upset and starts screaming at me, and crying that the whole situation is my fault and that it’s not fair. All this is while I am trying to flag someone down to talk to him.)

Customer: “You know what? F*** this! I quit. Get me off of your employee list!”

(Again, this is something the phone service cannot do, so I direct him to email in again. The customer gets more upset, to the point that I can actually hear in his voice that he is getting visibly red.)

Customer: “F*** you! F*** the email service! And most of all, f*** this company! I’m going to make sure no one uses it again! I will tell everyone I know, go back to the people I helped, and tell everyone that this is BS!”

Me: “I am very sorry, sir. I really do wish there was something that I could do on my end.”

Customer: “Take your apology and shove it up your a**!” *hangs up*

(I take a quick breather before doing my notes. A coworker who sees I am struggling flags someone down and my supervisor asks to listen to the call with me. We listen to the call. Having to relive it, I start crying. My supervisor turns to me slowly.)

Supervisor: “Listen. There was nothing you could do. It was not your fault that he got like that; you directed him to where he needed to go, and that was that. But I have a question for you.”

Me: “Question?”

Supervisor: “So, in a few weeks — you know, when this blows over and you can laugh about it — I would love to use this in a training class for new agents so they can see just how they can handle these types of situations.”

Me: “Go for it.”

Drowning In Bad Parenting

, , , , , | Right | March 15, 2019

(I work as a lifeguard at a small-town pool, so we don’t get many people we don’t know, but every once and a while we get out-of-towners. They are usually rude and disregard all of the rules. It is required to take a swimming test to enter the deep end at our pool; if you don’t pass you don’t enter. A lady and her two sons come to the pool.)

Lady: *to [Coworker #1] on duty* “Can [Oldest Son] take the deep end test?”

Coworker #1: “Yes, you have to [do required things] well, and I will pass you.”

Oldest Son: “Okay.”

(The oldest son then does the test and passes.)

Lady: “Now can [Younger Son] take the test?”

Coworker #1: “Yes; he has to do the same things.”

Lady: “That seems like a lot for someone so little to do.”

Coworker #1: “Everyone has to do it to enter the deep end, ma’am.”

Lady: “It just seems like too much! Have him do less.”

Coworker #1: “I can’t. He has to pass these requirements.”

Lady: “Okay.”

(The youngest does it but is obviously struggling, out of breath, and needing to take a break. His mom swims next to him, practically holding him. It takes him so long to finish that the lifeguards have to rotate, so [Coworker #1] leaves and [Coworker #2] takes her place/ [Coworker #1] tells her that the kid is struggling and shouldn’t be passed. The kid finally gets done.)

Coworker #2: “I’m sorry, but he didn’t pass. He is obviously a struggling swimmer and I can’t let him in the deep end.”

Lady: “What?! He did your stupid little test; he should be able to go in there. He is not a struggling swimmer!”

Coworker #2: “Ma’am, he did not pass because he isn’t a strong enough swimmer and we don’t want him to have a chance of drowning.”

Lady: “This is ridiculous. All he wants to do is go off the diving boards; just let him do that!”

Coworker #2: “Ma’am, we cannot let your son into the deep end, for his own safety.”

(She continued to yell at me and my coworkers until she finally decided to loudly announce that we were terrible lifeguards and she was never coming back to this pool ever again. My coworker and I didn’t care if this lady ever came back, but much to our despair, she came back an hour later and broke our deep end rules, and ignored us, all while insisting that she was with her son and it didn’t matter what some stupid teenagers said; she knew what was best for her son.)

Listen Here, Cupcake…

, , , , | Right | March 15, 2019

(I work for a bakery in a fairly affluent area. Because of the owner’s ties to the community, many of our customers feel they are entitled.)

Woman: “I’m here to collect 200 cupcakes for my son’s birthday party.”

Me: “I wasn’t aware that we needed to supply this. Did you place an order?”

Woman: *scoffs* “Of course not. My kind doesn’t make ‘orders’”

Me: “Then you aren’t getting 200 cupcakes.”

Woman: *affronted* “How dare you! What about those?!”

Me: “Those are for the local hospital, to be donated to the children’s ward.”

Woman: “I’ll take those, for free because of your attitude.”

Me: “They aren’t for sale. As I said, they’re for [Hospital]. They’re for charity.”

Woman: “You do not know the meaning of the word! I’ll just get in touch with [Owner] and let him sort you out.”

(She steps outside and speaks on her phone for a short while. She stares at me triumphantly through the window, and I start to worry that perhaps the owner will take her side. He arrives and they talk. She is getting very irate, and refusing to follow him through the door.)

Owner: “I’m sorry, [Woman], but I would much rather do this inside.”

(She glares at me while following him in.)

Owner: “Okay, what is going on?”

(I explain, and she interrupts me enough that the owner is starting to get very annoyed.)

Owner: “So, did you even place an order?”

Woman: “Do I look like someone who orders?!”

Owner: “You have to order if you want something in bulk. Even with everyone in today, we wouldn’t have the facilities to make that large a batch in two hours!”

Woman: “Then give me those cakes. Be charitable for once, you greedy c***!”

(This pushes him over the edge.)

Owner: “Those are for the hospital that took care of my daughter while she had leukaemia. I might have tried to pull something together for you, but now, you are getting out of my bakery and never coming back.”


Owner: “I haven’t ruined anything; you have. You’re a self-entitled b****, and you are now leaving.”

(He dragged her to the door and pushed her out. She screamed for a while and threw her bag at the window, which smashed it. She went pale and fled. The police were called and her husband offered to pay for the window. It was then that we learned that it wasn’t her son’s birthday, but actually, she had agreed to donate to the same hospital we were. She knew we were donating, and just assumed we would do whatever she wanted if she lied about why she needed them.)

I’ll Have The Coffee But In Tea Size

, , | Right | March 15, 2019

(I work at a pretty popular coffee shop in my country. There is one day in particular where customers are not the brightest.)

Me: “How can I help you?”

Customer: “Do you sell coffee?”

Me: “Uh… yes. What size would you like?”

Customer: “Coffee.”

Me: “Uh, okay… We have small, medium, or large. Medium is our most popular size.”

Customer: “Coffee.”

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