Who Can Math Before Coffee?

, , , | Right | November 19, 2019

(I’m a flight attendant. I ask a passenger what she wants to drink.) 

Passenger: “Coffee… black with two sugars, please.”

(I repeat it back to confirm and she nods. I hand her a coffee with two sugar packets on the side.)

Passenger: *as she takes it from me* “Two more sugars, please.”

Me: “Oh, sorry, I thought you said two.” 

Passenger: “I did. But when I said two I really mean four.”

Me: “…”

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Some Truly Sick Customers Out There

, , , , | Right | November 18, 2019

(I’m eighteen, working my first job at a pub. I’ve been dealing with a “Serial Puker” who likes to decorate our disabled toilet with vomit — walls, floors, the lot! As I’ve got a strong stomach — and the disabled toilet is used by genuine users frequently — I have had to clean up this mess eight times in the last three weeks. We know who it is, but have yet to prove that he is doing it. It’s 10:30 pm on a busy Saturday, a regular has just asked me to refill the toilet roll, and as I walk out, a well-dressed — somewhat intoxicated — man pushes past me into the toilet. Cue vomiting sounds. I go get the mop bucket, paper towels, and gloves ready, check the toilet, and then follow the man to his table.)

Me: “Sir, do you need me to call you an ambulance?”

Vomiter: “What? No, Why?!”

Me: “Well, you’ve been so unwell in the bathroom that you’ve managed to vomit over every surface except the toilet itself. I assume you’re feeling extremely unwell.”

Vomiter: “There’s nothing f****** wrong with me. It doesn’t matter where I f****** puke, b****. I’m paying your wages so clean it up.”

Me: “In that case, sir, I am giving you two options: clean up your mess and don’t do it again, or you’re banned.”

Vomiter: “F*** you. Who do you think you are, telling me what to do?! Do you know who I am?”

Me: “Actually, sir, I do. And I dare say your sergeant would love to hear about your behaviour tonight. I have his mobile number and am more than happy to let him know the issue we’re having and show him the CCTV footage from the last three weeks.”

Vomiter: *suddenly very pale* “Uh, no, no. I, uh, don’t do that. I’ll pay for cleanup. I’m sorry.”

Me: “No, sir, the disabled toilet is needed tonight. You are welcome to clean it up yourself, though, if you’d like?”

Vomiter: “Uh, yeah. Okay. Uh, have you got any gloves?”

(We never had another problem whilst I worked there!)

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We Are No Longer Engaged In Business

, , , | Right | November 18, 2019

(It’s a bit past closing. I’m pulling the trash from a can near the door when a guy starts banging on the door. My manager rushes over and starts telling him we’re closed.)

Manager: “I’m sorry, we’re closed!”

Customer: “I just need one thing!”

Manager: “The drawers have been pulled; we can’t sell anything.”

Customer: “But my fiancé works here and told me it was okay!”

(My manager looks at me, as I’m the only one engaged. I tell her I’ve never seen this guy in my life. She turns back to him.)

Manager: “Sir, we open at nine tomorrow. That’s the soonest you can come back.”

(He stormed off. We never saw him again.)

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A Vicious Goodwill Cycle

, , , , | Right | November 18, 2019

In my last job, working for an online retailer, if a customer complained enough, we were authorised to send them a gesture of goodwill — typically a £5 or £10 gift card — and we, as agents, advised that they would receive these within three to five working days.

I got a call one afternoon from the girlfriend of our customer, fuming that her boyfriend hadn’t received his gift card yet — this was on the fifth working day exactly — and she demanded a gesture of goodwill because the gesture of goodwill was late.  

She didn’t get it.

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For You, It’ll Be A Buck Fifty

, , , , | Right | November 18, 2019

(I work in a dollar store. A customer comes up to me.)

Customer: “So, if I don’t see any prices, how do I know how much it is?” 

Me: “Miss, this is a dollar store;  everything is $1 or less and it’s marked if it’s less.”

Customer: “Well, you should still mark it if it’s a dollar so people know.” 

(She strutted off. Keep in mind that we have strips that say, “$1,” going down ALL the aisles.)

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