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The customer is NOT always right!

Fad Behavior Is Bad Behavior

, , , , | Right | August 10, 2018

(I work in a toy section in a super center that promotes a fad character I hate more than anything. My store is in a small town with not many local stores. The public has been begging them to get a fabrics section because there is no craft store within a four- or five-town radius. The party section is right across from my toys section, leading to this horrible conversation while I’m cleaning up after some destructive kids. I look at the destructive kids’ mother, who looks upset and lost.)

Me: “Can I help you with anything today?”

Customer: “Yeah, where the h*** is your [Fad Character] party stuff?”

Me: *mishearing her over one of her children, who is now yelling and tugging on me to get my attention* “Oh, the [Fad Character] toys are right there; it’s the rather ugly, yellow section.” *points down the aisle as my joke goes over her head*

Customer: *suddenly way more angry* “NO! Where is your [Fad Character] party stuff!?”

Me: “Oh! They would be over in the celebrations department; it’s just across the main aisle.”

(I point, tugging my hand from one of the children on my arm to do so.)

Customer: *looks at me like I’m an idiot* “I was already over there. Why don’t you have any?!”

Me: “Well, I’m not sure, but I can help you look.”

Customer: “No! There isn’t any over there! WHY DON’T YOU HAVE ANY?!”

(She is now turning red, she is so mad, and she’s starting freak me out.)

Me: “Well, if it’s not on the shelf, I can go over and scan it to see if it’s in the back room.”

Customer: “There’s nothing of it over there! WHY DON’T YOU HAVE ANY?!”

Me: “I can check in the back to see if we have any to come out.”

Customer: “BUT WHY DON’T YOU HAVE ANY?!”

Me: “I don’t control that section. I can take you to the person that controls and stocks that section to see if we have some I’m not aware of.”

Customer: “BUT WHY DON’T YOU HAVE ANY?!”

Me: “We recently got fabrics; it made celebrations smaller. I can check in the back or with the manager to see if that product was put on clearance somewhere to make space.”

Customer: “BUT WHY DON’T YOU HAVE ANY?!”

Me: “We don’t actually control our stock; our home office does, in another state.”

Customer: “WHY DON’T YOU HAVE ANY?!”

Me: “I can get a manager, but they will probably give you all the same options.”

Customer: “I DON’T WANT A F****** MANAGER, I WANT YOU TO TELL ME, WHY DON’T YOU HAVE ANY?!”

(I go through this process of telling her how our system works and repeating my options a few times, with her kids still hanging on me, which she has said nothing about.)

Me: *tired of going in circles but trying to hold a smile* “Well, you could see if our site has it; we offer free shipping on most items.”

Customer: “HIS BIRTHDAY IS ON SUNDAY!”

(It was Friday night. Then, we both noticed that her husband had been trying to get her attention and hand her a call on his phone. She proceeded to cuss loudly about me in the toy section around other children. I had to ask her children to let me go so I could work, and to follow their parents because both adults started to walk away without them.)

Gremlins In The Library

, , , , , , | Right | August 10, 2018

(I work the night shift at a large university library that is open 24 hours. There are only three staff members, me included, working this shift, and the library is fairly empty. In order to get into the library in the middle of the night, students have to swipe their student cards to activate the outer doors, and then are required to physically show the card to a staff member as they enter. We take turns checking cards at the door throughout the night, and it is currently my turn to do it. I’ve been sitting at the security podium by the door for about three hours already; it is required that someone remain at the door constantly in order to make sure that no non-students enter the library. As I glance up from the book I’ve been reading, I suddenly notice a small, white dog dart between two study rooms on the opposite side of the floor. Not sure at first if I’ve hallucinated it, I finally decide to radio my coworker.)

Coworker: “Is there a problem?”

Me: “Yeah… Um, you’re not going to believe this… but I think there’s a dog loose in the library.”

Coworker: *after a pause* “You let a dog into the library?”

Me: “No! Nobody’s come through the front doors in at least two hours, and I didn’t see anybody come in with a dog. I don’t know how it got in.”

(Another coworker, who has been listening in on the radio, decides to pipe in:)

Coworker #2: “You let a dog into the library?”

Me: “No! I don’t know how it got in!”

Coworker #1: “Where is it now?”

Me: “I think it’s in Study Room B.”

Coworker #2: “I’ll go check it out.”

Coworker #1: “All right. Radio back when you know what’s going on.”

(The coworker arrives a few minutes later and walks into the study room where I saw the dog enter. I hear her shout something unintelligible, and then her voice comes back on the radio)

Coworker #2: “It s*** all over the place!”

Coworker #1: *on the radio* “The dog did?”

Coworker #2: “Of course it was the dog!”

Me: “We hope it was the dog…”

Coworker #1: “All right, I’m coming down. Where is the dog now?”

Coworker #2: “Not in Study Room B. But he’s been here. He left his mark.”

Me: “I haven’t seen him come back this way, either.”

(My coworkers lock up Study Room B to be cleaned, and then do a sweep of the floor. They can’t find the dog, but they do find more of its feces scattered around the library, mostly in study rooms. Finally, they radio back to me.)

Coworker #1: “You’re sure this is a dog?”

Me: “You think a person is doing this?”

Coworker #1: “I guess not. It’s just…”

(He pauses.)

Me: “Just what?”

Coworker #2: “There’s a lot of s***, [My Name]. So much s***. It’s everywhere. This dog knows what he’s doing.”

(I try not to laugh as my coworkers frantically continue their search. Just as I’m about to radio in for an update, a white blur passes in my periphery, and I turn to see the dog darting beneath the wide central staircase, which is just a few yards from my post by the door.)

Me: *radioing* “Guys! He just went under the stairs! Do you want me to go try to grab him?”

Coworker #1: “No! Stay by the door. You need to watch for students. Just stay where you are; we’re coming to you!”

(They both come bolting down the stairs, and as they turn to duck under the steps to look for the dog, the dog darts back out the other side and goes running for an open study room opposite the stairs.)

Coworker #2: “No! Not in there! That’s one of the only rooms he hasn’t gotten yet!”

(I get up from my post to help give chase, but as [Coworker #1] passes me, he motions for me to sit back down. Begrudgingly, I obey. They chase the dog into the empty study room… and then back out again. They chase him around the floor for several minutes before the dog hops up the stairs and heads to the second floor. My coworkers frantically follow.)

Coworker #2: *on the radio again* “[My Name], watch the stairs. If he comes back your way, you ditch the doors and grab him. It’s time we put an end to this.”

(I suddenly hear someone shouting from the second floor. Concerned, I radio in to ask if everything is okay.)

Coworker #2: “The dog just blasted feces all over the Help Desk. I think there’s something wrong with this dog!”

(At that moment, I see a student swipe his card at the outer doors and enter the library. He walks up to me and shows me his card, as usual, then looks around.)

Student: “Hey, have you seen a little white dog in here?”

Me: “Yes! We’ve been trying to catch him for an hour. Is he yours?”

Student: “Yeah, I dropped him off.”

Me: “You… what?”

Student: “I said I dropped him off. Is he ready to leave?”

(I’m too dumbfounded for a moment to answer, and the student then turns to face the library and begins shouting.)

Student: “Gizmo! Gizmo, c’mere! C’mere, boy!”

(To my astonishment, the dog casually appears at the top of the stairs and makes his way down toward his owner. My coworkers follow, running at first, until they see that the dog is being beckoned by his owner. They slowly head toward us, visibly distraught by the entire experience, as the owner picks up his dog.)

Student: “Hey, Gizmo! Time to go!”

Coworker #1: “Hey, wait a minute!”

Student: “Oh, yeah? What’s up?”

Coworker #1: “That’s your dog?”

Student: “Yes.”

Coworker #1: “You can’t bring a dog into the library.”

Student: “I didn’t. I dropped him off.”

Coworker #1: “Well, he caused a huge disruption and damaged several of our study rooms. We’ve had to close them and they’ll need to be hosed down.”

Student: “I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d be a problem.”

Coworker #2: “Well, he was! He defecated all over the library.”

Student: “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. But what do you want me to do?”

([Coworker #1], not quite sure how to handle this situation, ultimately decides to take the student’s information in case he may be asked to help pay for the cleaning that will be required. Still seemingly oblivious to the huge disruption that’s been caused by him and his dog, the student leaves, and my coworkers and I stand back for a moment to collect ourselves.)

Coworker #2: “Well, that was different.”

Coworker #1: “What is wrong with people? Did he think this was a doggy daycare or something?”

Me: “Honestly, I’m more concerned about what was wrong with that dog.”

Coworker #2: “Maybe he fed it after midnight.”

The Contrarian Librarian: Looking For Work

, , , , | Right | August 10, 2018

(My mom works at the library, working in the front where most applicants drop off their resumés for open positions.)

Mom: “Welcome to [Library]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “I’d like to apply for the open position.”

(She hands my mum her resumé, which is put with the others.)

Mom: “Anything else I can help you with today?”

Customer: “Can you help me find this book, as well?”

(She hands my mum a paper with the name of a series on it.)

Mom: “Oh, sure.” *looks it up* “This is a really good series; I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Customer: “Oh, this isn’t for me; this is for my friend. I hate reading.”

Related:
Re-emergence Of The Contrarian Librarian
The Inattentiveness Of The Contrarian Librarian
Attack Of The Contrarian Librarian

To Deal With A**holes, Describe Yours

, , , , | Right | August 10, 2018

(For the past few days, we have gotten an obscene phone caller.)

Me: “[Law Office]. How can I help you?”

Caller: *whispering* “Oh, yeah… Oh, baby.”

Me: *confused at first* “Hello?”

Caller: *moan*

Me: “This is a law office, and we do track phone logs.”

Caller: *hangs up*

(Next day:)

Me: “Good afternoon. [Law Office]. How can I help you?”

Caller: *moans and whispers*

Me: *sigh* “Hello?”

Caller: “Yeah, baby, oh…”

Me: “I’m not joking about the call logs, you know. Police will be notified if you do it again.” *hangs up*

(Next day:)

Me: “Good afternoon. [Law Office]—”

Caller: *whispering* “Oh, baby… Oh, yeah…”

Me: “So, let me tell you about this painful zit I have growing near my a**hole!”

(The pervert never called again.)

Attack Of The Entitled Mummy

, , , , , , | Right | August 10, 2018

(I work for myself as a children’s entertainer, advertising mostly by word of mouth. I receive an email asking for a quote.)

Customer: “Hi! [Parent I have worked with] gave me your info. I’m looking for a quote for my little princess’s fourth birthday. How much are you?”

Me: “Hello, [Name from email address], thanks for reaching out! I need a few more details to give you an accurate quote:

1) What day and time is your daughter’s party?
2) How many little guests do you expect to be there?
3) Where will the party take place?
4) What services are you interested in? I do balloon twisting, glitter tattoos, face painting, and a limited number of character interactions.

Talk to you soon!”

Customer: “Wow! I didn’t know you’d be so invasive! How did you know my name? I’m not telling you where I live! Just give me a quote!”

(After blinking at my screen for a few minutes I shake my head and try again.)

Me: “I’m sorry; I assumed your email was your name. My apologies for startling you. I need to know generally where the party is to see if mileage charges apply, and when it is to see if I’m already booked. I don’t need your exact address if you’re having the party at your residence; nearby major cross streets would work to get you an accurate quote. Thanks again for the opportunity to make your child’s birthday a little more special!”

Customer: “Main and 1st.”

(My eye is now sporadically twitching, but business slows down in summer due to the crushing heat and I could use the money. After a deep breath, I reply:)

Me: “Fantastic news! You’re well within my standard radius, so no mileage fees will apply. I just need to know the day and time you’re looking to book me, how many kids I’ll be working with, and which of my services you’re most interested in. Just a heads up: if you’ve hired a bounce house, I likely will not be able to face paint, as it’s against the bounce house company’s policy.”

Customer: “Don’t worry about who or what else I’ve hired. You are very unprofessional! I just want a f****** quote and you’re taking forever! I’ve wasted an hour of my life with you now! For f***’s sake! This Saturday at three pm, for an hour. And, you had better give me a discount for this horrid service!”

(I glance at my weather app and see that it’s going to be nearly 115° at that time. My balloons require indoor space under 95°, and most private-at-home birthday parties are backyard events. My suited characters don’t perform in that heat, either.)

Me: “I am available to face paint and/or do glitter tattoos on Saturday! Yay! It’s unfortunately projected to be too hot to offer balloon animals or character meet-and-greets. My minimum booking for just face painting is for two hours at $100 an hour. Usually glitter tattoos are an additional charge, but to make the day extra special I’ll throw in a dozen free glitter tattoos for the birthday girl and eleven of her closest friends. I will need a ten by ten flat space to set up my canopy unless you have shade, table, and chairs provided. If you would like to book me, please fill out and return the attached contract. Once I have received the deposit and signed contract, we’re all set!”

Customer: “I only want an hour. I’m only paying for one hour! And $100 is outrageous! It’s only thirty kids; it shouldn’t take you two hours!”

(I’m now full-on headdesking. Industry average for face painting is twelve to fifteen kids an hour. My rates aren’t the cheapest in the city, but I’m far from the top earners, and my work is solid, I’m insured, and I only use top-quality supplies. This is exactly why I always ask how many kids there are, not how long the parents think I’ll need to get to everyone. Two minutes per kid to pick what they want, sit down, get painted, and admire themselves in the mirror just isn’t reasonable. At this point, I pretty much want to just write her off but, again, I could really use the money. Without much hope, I try again.)

Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way, but my rates and timeframe are both very fair. I average ten to fourteen faces an hour, so getting to all thirty kids in only two hours will be very challenging. I do want to help make your little one’s birthday as special as possible and work with your budget, so I’ll make you a deal. For my usual two-hour rate I’ll guarantee all thirty kids get painted, even if it takes another hour. I’ll bring a sign-in sheet to make sure everyone gets painted while still enjoying the party. I hope this works for you; if not I hope it’s a fun filled day, anyway!”

Customer: “So, if my nieces and nephews show up, too, you won’t paint them?! I can’t believe [Parent I have worked with] recommended such a shady, rude person! I’m going to tell everyone I know that you’re a selfish, horrible person!”

(The next day, the parent who originally referred me reached out and apologized for their friend. The customer showed the complete email chain as evidence of how “rude” I was in a Facebook group, and is apparently now the laughing stock of her mommies group.)


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