Taking The Time To Say Thank You

, , , , | Right | November 20, 2018

(I’m ringing up a customer, and it proves to be very difficult. There are lots of factors at play, like three discounts I have to apply. She’s doing multiple returns, and we’re also trying to figure out if her store credit card is still active. To top it all off, our registers are old as dirt and can’t handle all of the extra stuff I’m trying to do, so I have to restart the transaction multiple times. I’m pretty good at manipulating our antiquated system, and I’m usually fairly quick on the registers, but all in all, it takes a good ten minutes to process everything for her, and I have to do three separate transactions to make sure everything gets done correctly.)

Customer: “I’m sorry to put you through all of this and take up your time. Thank you so much for your patience.”

Me: *flabbergasted* “Oh, no, thank you! I’m so sorry it’s taking forever and I have to keep starting over. Thank you for waiting all this time!”

(She thanks me multiple times again and leaves. I tell my MOD about how difficult it was and what she said.)

Me: “Literally any other customer would have been yelling at me about eight minutes back, wanting to know why it was taking so long and why I couldn’t do it right the first time. She was fantastic! I’ll help her all day, any day.”

One Person’s Outrageous Is Another Person’s Tuesday

, , , , , | Right | November 6, 2018

(I work in a popular chain coffee shop. We are located in a commercial area very popular with tourists and near several hotels, so we tend to be very busy, especially on weekend mornings. On this particular morning, we’ve received a higher than normal number of mobile orders and are a bit backed up. Most customers are understanding, but one woman who is standing with a friend near a regular customer of ours is clearly unhappy.)

Customer: “Oh, my God! I have never had to wait this long for a mobile order! I’m shocked!”

(The regular customer shoots her a dirty look but says nothing.)

Customer: “This is outrageous. I don’t believe this.”

(She continues complaining to her friend, the regular customer, and anyone else in earshot. No one answers her. Meanwhile, I finish making the regular’s drink and hand it to her.)

Me: “Here you go. Sorry about the extra wait!”

Regular: “It’s not a problem. Thanks!” *to the complaining customer* “You know that there are people that are dying, right? If waiting five minutes for your coffee is the worst thing that happens to you today, I’d call that a win.”

(The regular customer left and several people who were close enough to hear what she said snickered a little, including the complaining customer’s friend. The complaining customer was silent until she got her drink and left. I love my regulars.)

There’s A Special Hell Reserved For People Who Talk In The Movie Theater

, , , , , , | Right | November 2, 2018

(I’m working opening night of “Deadpool,” taking tickets. After the first twenty minutes of taking tickets, I give up warning people with kids that this movie is NOT for children. A family of four — a mom, a dad, and two boys about six and eight years old — come in with tickets for — you guessed it — “Deadpool.” While tearing their tickets I tell the dad:)

Me: “Sir, just so you know, this movie has a hard R-rating.”

(As expected, he just sneers at me, holding out his hand.)

Father: “Just do your job and shut your mouth'”

(I give him his stubs and direct him to his auditorium. After about twenty minutes, my manager asks me to make theater rounds, where we walk into each auditorium during the show to make sure there are no problems with the film, and to check for recording devices, feet on seats, etc. He specifically mentions the “Deadpool” auditoriums because he’s getting complaints that someone’s kids are being loud and the parents are ignoring other patrons’ requests to be quiet. Dreading dealing with this guy because I’ve got a pretty good idea who it is, I go into the nearest showing. Sure enough, it’s the dad from earlier, who’s now arguing with the people behind him, who have just asked him to quiet his kids. As he’s telling them to mind their own business, the woman in front of him stands up, turns around, and yells:)

Woman: “Listen up, you sorry piece of s***! I’ve waited twenty-five years and one day for this movie, and I’m not going to let it be ruined because you’re a piece-of-s*** parent, so either shut them the f*** up or get your f***-trophies the f*** out of here!”

(Before the dad could pick his jaw up off the floor to respond, the entire packed auditorium started cheering and clapping. The family got up and left without saying a word. The kids looked dazed, and the dad wouldn’t look anyone in the face all the way out. Red-Haired Lady in the Deadpool shirt and leather jacket, I don’t know who you are, but you are my new hero!)

Running Their Mouths

, , , , | Right | October 10, 2018

(I recently began work in the hotel side of a pretty renowned local restaurant with a Michelin star rating. I was worried that my coworkers would be stuffy or very serious, but instead they’re very down-to-earth. They’re very careful to be professional but friendly with guests, but we have a good laugh when everyone is checked out. Guests can be a bit of a mixed bag — as we all know! — so when we serve breakfasts in their suites, conversation is generally reserved to polite questions about dinner in the restaurant the night before. One morning this conversation transpires.)

Coworker: “So, how did you find your dinner last night?”

Guest: “Oh, quite wonderful. I’m still full! I don’t know how I’m going to manage after this breakfast!”

Coworker: *without thinking* “Not to worry; go for a jog around in the garden outside to work it all off!”

Guest: “This is a five-star establishment!

(There is a moment of pause as we begin to run through all the ways this conversation could hurtle rapidly downhill. My coworker, thinking he is offended, makes to try and preemptively smooth over the situation.)

Guest: *laughing* “I would expect someone to go outside and do the running for me!”

Thank GOD That Wasn’t As Bad As It Could Have Been

, , , | Right | October 9, 2018

(I am serving tables during breakfast. While serving hot coffee to a customer, I accidentally spill some, and it lands on the bare skin of his young daughter’s foot.)

Me: “OH, MY GOD! I’m so, so sorry, miss!”

Daughter: *waves her hand* “Oh, don’t worry, hon. It must be God’s way of telling me that I shouldn’t be wearing uncovered shoes on Sunday!”

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