I Don’t Know Myself!

, | Kansas City, MO, USA | Right | October 21, 2015

(I work for a veterinary clinic that also offers pet boarding. To board, pets must be current on vaccinations; if they are not, a staff member reviews a consent form with them and then a vet will update the required services.)

Client: “I have a complaint.”

Me: “I’m sorry. How can I help you?”

Client: “No one called me to tell me my dog was started on ear medications while boarding.”

Me: “Let me review your file… According to the paperwork you signed at check-in, you selected the “Okay to treat minor issues” box, rather than the “Call to approve” box.”

Client: “Why would you not call people?”

Me: “Some people prefer not to receive calls when gone on vacation or business—”

Client: “—You don’t know me. How do you know what I want?”

Me: “Yes, that’s why we asked you, on this form you signed, what your preference was, to be contacted or not?”

Client: “You don’t know me!”

Me: “Perhaps in the future you should check the other box…”

The Art Of Parenting

| Brisbane, QLD, Australia | Right | October 21, 2015

(I work as a security guard for an art gallery that features paintings by local artists. Today, we are auctioning off some of the older paintings to make way for some newer ones. The paintings that will be auctioned are displayed in one particular room, and I am the guard for this room. When this happens, there are a few customers already here. A well-dressed lady with her young son in tow enter. She leaves her child unattended while looking at the paintings.)

Me: “Ma’am, may I request that you keep an eye on your son? We wouldn’t want him to get in any trouble, would we?

Lady: “Yes, yes, I know.” *returns to paintings, disregarding child*

(I think nothing of it, as the child is only a few meters away from the mother. But, a few minutes later, as I am distracted with another customer asking about the auction, another customer starts shouting.)

Me: “Sir, can you…”

Male Customer: “Mister! That child is drawing on one of the paintings!”

(I immediately turn around in horror, to see the little boy scribbling on one of our prized pieces with a white-out pen.)

Me: “Ma’am! Please get your son under control! He is defacing the painting!”

Lady: “Whatever. Leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m trying to appreciate the art?”

(I walk over to the young boy, who can’t be older than five, and gently take his hand. Speaking soothing words, I lead him over to his mother.)

Me: “Ma’am, I would like you to keep your child under control.” *I let go of his hand and he clings onto his mother*

Lady: *gasp* “How DARE you touch my son! He didn’t do anything wrong! I’m going to call for security!”

Me: “Ma’am, I AM security. Your son was scribbling on this painting, and I stopped him.”

Lady: “Well, I never! I am never coming back here! The paintings are s***ty, the security is terrible, and I bet your artists are poor homeless f***s who splat paint on canvas for a penny an hour!”

Me: “…. Ma’am, the painting your son just defaced—”

Lady: *snorts* “Defaced?! These paintings are so bad, he probably made it better!”

Male Customer: “Miss! I have been quiet up until now, but you are being a right b**** to this guard!” *to me* “Show her the painting!”

(I lead her other to the painting. It happens to be a beautiful oil painting of the city, now with a white scribble across it.)

Me: “If you would just look at the plaque, this is a oil painting by [Respected Local Artist] that would have been auctioned at around $7500. Now, you will have to pay for it, since your son defaced it.”

Lady: *obviously recognising the name, turning deathly pale and sputtering in horror* “You should have told me to keep an eye on my child! This is NOT my fault! You hear me?! NOT MY FAULT!!”

(She gave us an answer soon enough. She grabbed her son’s arm and dashed away to the exit. Luckily, the guards outside caught her. She ended up paying $7500 for the painting, and was banned from the gallery. The kicker? She filed a complaint on our website for “not warning her of the danger of children in a gallery.”)

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Pre(Car)ious Insurance, Part 8

| Sharonville, OH, USA | Right | October 21, 2015

(I work as the manager of a rental car office. It’s a slow day and so when the next customer enters, I take my time describing the extra insurance coverage benefits.)

Customer: “Seriously, do we have to go over all of this?”

Me: “Yes, sir. I want to make sure you are fully informed about what refusing the extra coverage means for you.”

Customer: “Fine, but let’s hurry up. I want to hit the road!”

Me: “No problem, sir. We’ve covered everything and you’ve declined all coverage. Please sign your contract and you are all set!”

(The customer signs and walks out the door. Not two minutes later, he walks back in looking sheepish.)

Me: “Hello, sir, did you forget something?”

Customer: “No, it’s just… Can I go ahead and get the extra insurance?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but why? You were adamant a minute ago that you didn’t want it.”

Customer: “I guess I changed my mind!”

(I walk out of the office and around to the back parking lot. Sitting on top of a decorative rock set to the entrance of the driveway is the car I just rented him – a brand new luxury car, with three of the four wheels hanging in the air.)

Customer: “I think I hit something. So can I get the insurance?”

Me: “Sir, you can’t get insurance AFTER you’ve damaged the car!”

Customer: “Why not?! I didn’t even leave the parking lot!”

(The guy ended up having to pay for the damage to the car, damage to the landscaping, the tow, and the days the car was unavailable for rent.)

Related:
Pre(Car)ious Insurance, Part 7
Pre(Car)ious Insurance, Part 6
Pre(Car)ious Insurance, Part 5

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And Behind Curtain Number One

| MN, USA | Right | October 21, 2015

(My mom and I are trying on some clothes in the dressing rooms and we hear this coming from further down the hall.)

Lady Customer: “Honey, I have to finish trying on my stuff. You’ll have to wait… No, you have to stay… Put those pants back on!… Don’t you dare pee in here!”

(We were done and starting to leave at the last one, and at the entry of the dressing room are two wide-eyed workers.)

Worker #1: “I so don’t want to clean that up.”

Worker #2: “What if she peed on some clothing?!”

(Poor, poor workers.)

Won’t Be Tricked Out Of His Treat

, | Chicago, IL, USA | Right | October 21, 2015

(I am shopping with my parents at a home improvement store during the Halloween season. There is a skeleton on display that has candy on it.)

Dad: *reaches for candy*

Mom: “Don’t take that! It’s for display!”

Dad: “It looks like samples to me.”

(We head to the cash registers to make a purchase. A woman who appears to be the manager is with the cashier.)

Dad: “Just curious, is the candy on the Halloween display free?”

Manager: “I would expect…”

Dad: *to Mom* “Ha! I told you!”

Mom: “You gonna go back and get some?”

Dad: “Nah.”

Manager: “I’ll go get you some.”

(The manager actually goes and gets us some candy.)

Dad: “Thank you!”

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