His Opinion Carries No Weights

, , | KY, USA | Right | January 15, 2013

(My friend and I are both overweight, so we decide to start going to the gym to lose weight and get in shape for the first time in our lives. She is a bit self-conscious and is hesitant to go at first because she is afraid others will stare. After a couple of weeks, she stops worrying because most people at our gym go about their own business. We’d never had a problem until one day, when she is jogging on the treadmill.)

Rude Member: “Hey, fat b****! Why don’t you get off the treadmill before you break it?”

My Friend: *stops jogging* “What?”

Rude Member: “Get the f*** off the treadmill! Your fat a** is going to break it! Let someone who weighs less than Shamu use it! Just go away and take up space at [Fast Food Restaurant], where you belong.”

(My friend, looking like she’s about to cry, steps off the machine.)

Rude Member: “You fatties are a waste of space! You just eat everything in sight and lounge about, getting fatter, and then you complain about your weight. Why don’t you ever do something about it?”

My Friend: “Excuse me?! You just told me to get my fat a** off of a treadmill, where I was exercising, and go to [Fast Food Restaurant]. Then you have the audacity to tell me that I only sit around eating and not doing anything to lose weight? Get the h*** out of my face, you f***ing jerk!” *gets back on her treadmill and resumes jogging*

Rude Member: “I hope they charge you double when you break the machines, you cow!” *stomps away*

(Later, I saw the manager tearing up the rude member’s gym membership right in front of him. The manager had been informed of the whole incident by several other members!)

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We Love To Deep Dish On Bad Customers

, | UT, USA | Right | January 10, 2013

(It is five minutes to closing at our store when the phone rings. Policy requires that we answer until 11:30 during winter hours. I pick up and my friend and manager stands behind me.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store Location]. What can I do for you tonight?”

Customer: “I need two pan pizzas with sausage and pepperoni.”

(I put the order in on the computer and look to the clock. It is now three minutes to close.)

Me: “All right, sir. I’m going to have to put this in for carry-out, as we close in three minutes.”

Customer: “Uh, no. I want it for delivery.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. We close at 11:30.”

Customer: “Well, the IOnternet says you close at midnight. I want delivery.”

Me: “Again, I can’t do that. We have cleanup to do, and we close in one minute. We are also on the winter schedule, and close a half hour earlier than summer hours.”

Customer: “That’s f***ing stupid!”

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t have you speak to me that way. If you like, you can speak to my manager about it. She’s standing right here, and has heard this entire conversation.”

(He settles down. It is now after 11:30.)

Customer: “Can’t you call it carry-out and just bring it to me?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Can I send you a picture of the web page?”

Me: “You can, but it won’t make a difference. This is policy, sir.”

Customer: “Fine! F*** you!”

(He hangs up. I smile and put the phone down.)

Manager: “He was pleasant.”

Me: “I love people like that.”

Manager: “Why?”

Me: “They give me stories to tell.”

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He’s One Slice Short Of A Pie

, | Grand Rapids, MN, USA | Right | January 9, 2013

(I have returned from delivering a pizza to the last customer of the night. Upon returning to the store, it is after closing time, so we begin cleaning and closing the store. The phone rings; we normally don’t answer the phone after closing time, but since I recognized the name on the caller ID as my last delivery, I decide to answer it.)

Me: “Thanks for calling [Restaurant]. I’m sorry, we’re closed, but how can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, I just had a pizza delivered and there’s a problem.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. What is the problem, exactly?”

Customer: “Well, this has got to be some sort of joke or something.”

Me: “Okay, what is the problem?”

Customer: “I just sat down to eat my sausage pizza, and seven of the eight pieces are just fine, but the eighpth piece doesn’t have any sausage on it.”

Me: “I’m sorry, that shouldn’t have happened. How about I give you a $2 discount on your next purchase?”

Customer: “Sure.”

Me: “Okay, sorry again. Have a nice night.”

(Before I can even turn around to walk away, the same caller ID rings again, so I answer.)

Customer: *yelling very angrily* “I’m so mad right now! I can’t believe what I’m looking at! What, are you messing with me not putting sausage on one of the pieces of my pizza?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, it was an accident. Sausages are small and round, I’m sure after they were put on the pizza they rolled around when the cheese was applied. How about instead of a $2 discount, I mark you account for a free pizza on your next order? Would that fix it for you?”

Customer: *calm now* “Yeah, that would be great, thanks.”

(We once again finish the call and hang up. Again before I can turn around the phone rings with the same caller ID so I answer and greet the caller.)

Customer: “YOU MUST BE PLAYING A JOKE ON ME! This must have been done on purpose! I’m gonna come down there and cut your heads off!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir! I just wanted to remind you that you’ll get a free pizza on your next order. Is that okay?”

Customer: *calms down again* “Yeah, thanks.”

(I quickly got off the phone while he was calm. We then quickly locked up and went home for the night without cleaning up the store, in case he was truly coming down to cut our heads off.)

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Foot In Mouth 101

, , , | Virginia, USA | Learning | November 16, 2012

(Note: I am a criminal justice major at a college in rural Virginia. The head of our department is notoriously sexist and racist but nothing has even been done about various claims filed against him. I see him walking by with a family, giving a tour.)

Department Head: “Oh, and as you can see, we also promote diversity on our campus by giving scholarships to a few less privileged students. Most of them, like these ladies, are in the nursing program because it’s fairly easy and there is a thriving work force.”

(He gestures at two female African-American students. Both are wearing business attire. One of the women, obviously having overheard him, calmly walks over.)

Female Student: “Hello, [Head of Department], I see you are leading a tour around campus. My name is Jessica [Last Name of Major University Benefactor], granddaughter of [Major University Benefactor]. I am a criminal justice major and have been in your classes the past two terms. I used to think you ignored me because the classes were so large and I am still only in my second year, but now I realize you are a racist, sexist chauvinist. I wish you the best of luck in your future job because once I speak with [Major University Benefactor], you will be needing a new one.”

(She then walked away with her friend. Sure enough, the next term we had a new department head — a former US Congresswoman!)

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Time For Career Path Resuscitation

, | Sunshine Coast, Australia | Working | November 5, 2012

(While we’re driving, an old man has fallen over onto the road right in front of our car, pulling his elderly wife down with him. We screech to a halt, just barely managing to avoid running them over. My mum and dad are both emergency consultants and are high-ranking doctors who command emergency wards. Mum jumps out of the car to stop other traffic and my dad heads to the downed couple to help them off the road. The woman is visibly shaken, but the man is incoherent and unable to stand. My dad quickly gets me to call an ambulance and sets about helping the man as best he can. Eventually, the ambulance arrives. A paramedic jumps out and zeroes in on the old man.)

Paramedic: “Okay, every thing’s all right now.” *to my dad* “Sir, are you the one who called the ambulance?”

Dad: “Yes…”

(My dad proceeds to give a doctor-handover to the paramedic, including symptoms, current stats, and his diagnosis, which is basically that the old man’s heart keeps skipping a beat and he needs to go to hospital right now. The paramedic doesn’t look at my dad the entire time.)

Paramedic: “If you’ll step aside, sir, I can examine the patient.” *to the semi-unconscious man* “Sir?  What’s your name?”

Dad: “His name is [Name]. I just told you. He’s having trouble talking, but his wife told us.”

Paramedic: *to my dad* “Sir, I need you to step away so I can do my job. I know this is scary and you think you’re helping, but—”

Mum: “Oh, my God, are you being serious?!”

(My dad gives Mum a look that tells her to let it go.)

Dad: “Okay, let me help you set up your equipment.”

Paramedic: “No, it’s really very complicated. I’ll do it…”

(My dad steps back to let the paramedic work, thinking that the old man will get to the hospital faster if he just goes along with it. However, the paramedic is fumbling and confusing his equipment and generally wasting time.)

Dad: “Let me help you with that.”

(Before the paramedic can say anything, my dad kneels down and fixes the equipment. Within about a minute, the entire thing is set up and attached with about a dozen wires to the old man. The paramedic finally looks my dad in the eyes.)

Paramedic: *gasps* “You’re [Dad]!”

Dad: “Yes.”

Paramedic: *looks a little pale* “I’ve gone to your lectures! I—”

Dad: “—”worked with me on a few retrievals, I know. Are you ready for a handover yet?”

Paramedic: *embarrassed* “Yes, sir.”

(My dad proceeds to tell the paramedic exactly what he told him when he first arrived. This time, however, the paramedic is following and nodding.)

Dad: “Oh, and one last thing: when you arrive and someone starts speaking like a doctor, listen to him, or at least look directly at him to check if he’s your boss. Now, get this man to the ED before he dies and we’ll talk about this more later.”

Paramedic: “Yes, sir!”

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