Good Service, To A Point

| | Right | May 22, 2009

Customer: “I want to return this knife! The lady I bought this from put this sticky stuff around the blade.”

Me: “Ma’am, all of our knives have the protective seal to keep you from getting cut.”

Customer: “No way! I saw her; she put this on there! I want a different one!”

Me: “Ma’am, you’re free to choose another knife but, as you can see, they all have the protective seal on them.”

Customer: “Well, this is ridiculous – how do you get this off?! You do it for me!”

(I take the seal off and hand it back to her.)

Customer: “But look at this! It’s left this sticky residue!”

Me: “It washes off easily, actually.”

Customer: “I don’t want to wash anything! That’s stupid!”

Me: “Don’t you wash your knives before you use them?”

Customer: “DON’T get smart with me! This is a horrible way to sell a knife.”

Me: “So, we should sell the knives without a seal or any kind of protection?”

Customer: “YES! Exactly! It’ll make using it at home easier!”

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When In Rome (Or An Indian Restaurant)…

| | Right | May 22, 2009

Me: “Did you enjoy your meal?”

Customer: “No, the madras was hot.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry it wasn’t to your liking, but madras is a hot dish.”

Customer: “No, no it’s not. Madras is a mild dish. It’s mild.”

Me: “Okay, but if I check with the chef, he’ll tell me we serve it as a hot dish.”

Customer: “What would he know? He’s Indian! What would he know about curry?”


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Future Business Leaders Of America, Indeed

| | Right | May 22, 2009

(A student approaches my counter at our college’s store, which is adjacent to the bank.)

Me: “Hello, may I help you?”

College student: “Yes, I need to get 4 dollars out of the bank.”

Me: “I’m sorry, the campus bank branch does not open for another hour.”

College student: “Well…what if I was to pay you? *pulls out a five dollar bill*

Me: “You’re going to pay me five dollars to get four dollars out of the bank?”

College student: “Yes.”

Me: “Why don’t I just give you change in ones for this five?”

College student: “You can do that?”

Me: “Yes.”

College student: “Technology these days!”

(I give him the five ones, and he walks out of the store shaking his head and smiling to himself, still saying “Wow!”)

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Acute Mental Failure

| | Right | May 22, 2009

(Note: At our hospital, patients are called into private registration rooms where all demographic information is completed.)

Me: “Come on in and we’ll get your paperwork ready.”

(The patient enters room and I close the door.)

Me: “So, how are you?”

Patient: “…”

(There are 2 large comfy chairs in front of the patient, but she’s still standing.)

Me:“Uh…everything ok?”

Patient: “…”

Me: “Well, uh, so…what procedure are you having today?”

Patient: “…”

Me: “Is that your doctor’s order?”

Patient: “…”

(The patient throws the paper at me. It has most of the info I need to register her, so I don’t ask any more questions. After a minute, I have all of her paperwork ready. During this entire time, still hasn’t sat down.)

Me: “Alright, here is your face sheet. If you’ll go down the hall and hand that to radiology they’ll take care of the rest.”

Patient: “Let me ask you a question now. Why didn’t you tell me to have a seat? You are the most rude person I have ever met!”

(She takes her papers and pushes on the door to open it, not realizing she needs to pull.)

Patient: “Ahhhh! Let me out of here, he’s locked me in! Help, help!”

(The patient knocks over my computer, flips the chairs and starts throwing stuff at me; I hide under the desk during her rampage. Hearing the commotion, security comes in and the patient runs out of the room and out of the hospital, never to be seen again. Afterwards…)

Security: “They really should start paying you more.”

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If Nincompoop, Then Infinite Loop, Part 2

| | Right | May 21, 2009

Customer: “I need to fill up my truck.”

Me: “Alright, how much gas would you like?”

Customer: “Enough to fill up my truck.”

Me: “Sir, I need to know how much gas you’d like to buy.”

Customer: “Why is this so hard? You tell me how much gas I need, and I give you the money!”

Me: “Each vehicle’s different, sir. How am I supposed to know how much it’ll take to fill up your particular vehicle?”

Customer: “Look at your book!”

Me: “…my book?”

Customer: “Yes, the book! Look up my truck and tell me how much gas to get!”

(My assistant manager comes over to see what all the fuss is about.)

Assistant manager: “How about you give us $20 for the gas? If you need more, you can come back, and if it’s too much, we’ll refund you.”

Customer: “Aw, forget it. I’ll just circle around the pumps.”

(…which is what he did for several minutes before driving off.)


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