(I am working the drive thru and I’m in a good mood.)
Me: “Thank you, ma’am. Your total comes to $3.47 and a smile!”
(I smile at her.)
Customer: “Excuse me? How rude! How dare you?”
Me: “Sorry?”
Customer: “I don’t want to smile, and you can’t make me. Just give me my d*** food.”
(The customer leaves.)
Manager: “What was her problem?”
Me: “I ‘charged’ her a smile.”
Manager: “I hate drive thru.”
(I work at an answering service that handles after-hours calls for various businesses. One of the accounts was a nice restaurant in the mountains of Colorado. A man calls one April to make a reservation.)
Caller: “I was hoping for a table on May 16th?”
Me: “It looks like there are various times open, so I can certainly set that up for you.”
Caller: “Okay, great. I’m going to be vacationing up there with my wife.”
Me: “Well, that sounds lovely!”
(We set up his dinner reservation.)
Caller: “So, can you give me any advice about what I should pack for a long weekend there? What is the weather like?”
Me: “Well sir, Colorado weather is very unpredictable, particularly in the spring. I would advise bringing clothing options for all seasons and dressing in layers.”
Caller: “I just want to know if I should pack warm clothes or short sleeves!”
Me: “Yes, sir, I understand that. However, springtime in Colorado has weather ranging from snowstorms to hot and sunny.”
Caller: “Oh, what nonsense. You clearly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Me: “Sir, I have lived in this state all my life. A common saying here is that if you don’t like the weather you should wait five minutes, and that holds true all year. Spring and autumn are the most unpredictable and varied when it comes to temperature, so—”
Caller: “What was the temperature today?”
Me: “Today? Well, this morning it was thirty degrees with heavy frost on the ground, and by noon it was about seventy-five with clear skies and sunshine—”
Caller: “Are you trying to be difficult? There’s no reason to be a smart-a**, you know.”
Me: “No, sir, not at all. I’m very genuinely trying to help you. Even for people who are used to it, weather changes here can be quite—”
Caller: “You’re no help at all! I’ll just bring a few pairs of shorts and t-shirts.”
Me: “Sir, please don’t do that. You will need warmer clothes in the mountains!”
Caller: “So, now I should bring my winter clothes? Why didn’t you just say so?!”
Me: “Well, you should, but bring some cooler clothes as well because—”
Caller: “No! It has to be one or the other! I don’t want to bring more than I need!”
Me: “You will definitely NEED options for highly variable temperatures. I’m very sorry, but—”
Caller: “You’re useless! It’s just four days. It can’t be that complicated!”
Me: “Look, four days ago it was shorts and tank top weather. Two days ago it snowed for a day and a night. I personally keep a heavy coat and a pair of sandals in my car because there are days when I need them both. Believe me, I wish it were all nice and predictable, but it really IS that complicated. I’m not making this up for fun.”
Caller: “Oh, I’ve never heard such nonsense. Springtime is bound to be nice, so I’ll pack for that. Thanks for nothing!”
Me: “Sir, I really advise—”
Caller: “And cancel the dinner reservation!” *click*
(May 16th turns out to be a properly variable week, with wind, rain, sun, and overnight snow.)
(I’m 18, and have been hospitalized for a severe case of mono. As a result of the illness, my throat is badly swollen and I can hardly speak. I’m on lots of painkillers. I’m sharing a room with a boy who swallowed a rock. The boy has been screaming since his mother left and his father can’t quiet him down.)
Nurse: “Okay, [My Name], I’m just going to check your vitals.”
Me: *whispering* “How much longer until I can have more pain medication?”
Nurse: “Not for a while, sweetie.”
(The nurse leaves. The boy’s father has been watching us the whole time.)
Boy’s Father: “Listen, you little b****! Don’t you f****** gossip about me to the f****** nurses! You keep your f****** mouth shut, or I’ll shut it for you!”
(I’m stunned, as I haven’t said a word to or about him. As I can’t move and can barely speak, I’m in tears and terrified. Not long after, my mom comes in to visit.)
Mom: “Hey, [My Name]. How are you doing?”
Me: *crying and whispering* “Mom, the dad of that boy screamed at me. He said to shut up, or he’d shut me up.”
(My mom is silent, but clearly fuming. She leaves for a moment.)
Boy’s Father: “WHAT DID I SAY?!”
(Just then, my mom comes back with security in tow.)
Mom: “Escort him from hospital grounds NOW.”
Boy’s Father: “B****! You can’t tell me what to do! You aren’t the boss here! I’m twenty-f******-five!”
Mom: “Actually, I AM the boss here! It’s my day off, but I’m head nurse on this floor, and if you EVER speak to my daughter ever again, I will have you arrested so fast that you won’t ever hear the sirens! And by the way, I’m forty-freaking-eight and I have the good sense not to let my kids eat rocks!”
(The man was removed from hospital grounds and was banned from re-entering for 48 hours unless it was an emergency. I have the best mom in the world.)
Related:
Why Nurses Should Rule The World, Part 2
Why Nurses Should Rule The World, Part 3
Why Nurses Should Rule The World, Part 4
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(I work for a company that produces a word processing software, which I am supporting.)
Me: “Thank you for calling technical support. Can I have your case number?”
(The customer provides the information. Just by the voice, I know the customer is an older lady. Usually, this means a 45+ minutes call, just because of the technology challenges.)
Me: “Could you right-click on the start button?”
Customer: “Okay, I have programs, documents, settings—”
Me: “That’s left-clicking. Could you please right-click on the start button?”
Customer: “Okay, but I still get programs, documents, settings.”
Me: “Could you describe to me, visually and step by step, what you are doing?”
Customer: “I’m putting the mouse cursor over the right part of the word ‘start’, and I click.”
Me: “Oh, I’m sorry; I was not clear. Is it possible for you to click using the right mouse button?”
Customer: “What do you mean?”
Me: “Okay, please pick up your mouse by the wire, and hold it up in the air.”
Customer: “I feel stupid.”
Me: “No, ma’am, you’re not. We’re all starting from different points. I’m a geek, so it’s normal if I’m a bit ahead of the curve, as far as this stuff goes. I just need to make sure that we’re on a level field, here.”
Customer: “Okay, it’s in the air.”
Me: “Great! Between your wire and your palm-resting are—”
Customer: “What do you mean?”
Me: “Okay, put it flat again, and put your hand on your mouse, as if to use it.”
Customer: “Oh, I get it, the place where my palm is resting.”
Me: “Exactly. Pick it up again. Between the wire and the palm-resting area, there is an area that is divided vertically. How many sections are there?”
Customer: “Two”
Me: “Great! Ma’am, I would like to formally introduce you to your left mouse button and your right mouse button. So when I ask you to right-click—”
Customer: “You want me to use the right mouse button!”
Me: “You’re a smart one!”
(It turns out that the older lady is 96 years old. She was doing her shuffleboard association’s newsletter, and her software had become thoroughly corrupted and needed to be reinstalled. We spend over an hour and a half. This lady had seen the advent of movies, TV, color TV, had seen the Model T, saw the first planes, radio and all. When I will be 96 years old, I just hope I am as technologically savvy as she is!)
(My boyfriend and I are at our regular grocery store. We always get in this particular cashier’s line when she’s working because we connect on a “we both work with customers daily and it’s awful” level. The customer ahead of us is giving her a hard time.)
Customer: “This should only be $1.50!”
Cashier: “It’s ringing up as $2.00. You may have picked up the wrong item.”
Customer: “No! This is on special! It said it was on sale.”
Cashier: “Hold on, please; I’ll check with the bakery.”
(The customer pouts as the cashier calls on the phone nearby. We only hear her half of the conversation. She gives an item number and describes the item. She finishes the conversation and then speaks to the customer.)
Cashier: “There is a special on this item, but not in this packaging. This has six rolls in it; the one on sale has four. It’s not even a big difference; you’re paying 50 cents more for two more rolls.”
Customer: “That’s not right!”
Cashier: “I just called the bakery. I just checked. You can put this back and get the one on sale or you can get this one.”
Customer: “Okay. Okay, just this, okay, fine, fine, fine.”
(The cashier finishes with the customer. The customer walks away.)
My Boyfriend: *grins* “Just another day, huh?”
Cashier: “Seriously. Fifty cents for two more rolls. Oh, hey, look. She’s going over to customer service.”
(We all look over as she brings up her receipt and more or less yells at the representative. She points over to our cashier and we watch the representative get on a phone.)
Cashier: “Great, looks like she’ll be getting that discount. The manager always caves in to these people.”
(My boyfriend and I simultaneously groan.)
Me: “We know how that is.”
Cashier: “I have to stop myself from yelling at these people. I tell myself, I love my job! I really do. I really… really do. Really.”
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