Wireless, Clueless, Hopeless, Part 31

, , , , , , | Right | October 30, 2017

(I work for a major company for Internet, TV, and phone services, and this call comes in.)

Me: “This is [My Name] with [Company]. How can I help you today?”

Customer: “Yeah, my f****** Internet isn’t working every time I use the d*** vacuum cleaner!”

Me: “Okay, that’s weird. Can you tell me in depth how you know that the vacuum cleaner is the issue?”

Customer: “Well, whenever I clean the house, I don’t have Internet, TV, or a phone line. It is starting to freak me out!”

Me: “But I can see that the services are working just fine.”

Customer: “Yeah, that’s the weird part; like ten to fifteen minutes after my husband comes home from work, everything works perfectly.”

Me: “Is your husband there, because maybe he fixes it somehow?”

Customer: “Yeah, hold on. I’ll get him for you.” *screams husband’s name*

Husband: “Hello, this is [Husband]. What’s up?”

Me: “Your wife told me the services like Internet and TV aren’t working all day long after she used the vacuum cleaner, and just like magic, when you come home from work everything works again.”

Husband: “Yeah, that’s true. Whenever she uses the vacuum, she pulls the plug of the router and modem to put the plug of the vacuum cleaner in. Then, she removes the vacuum cleaner, but doesn’t put the plug of the modem and router back in.”

Me: *confused* “So… why didn’t you tell her this?”

Husband: “Because she thinks the router and modem don’t have anything to do with Internet and TV because she uses ‘wireless services.’ She always says she wants to throw the router and modem away because she never uses them.”

Me: *almost crying* “Okay, well, I suggest you tell her that they are needed.”

Husband: “Nope, that’s your job. Good luck.” *passes the phone back to his wife*

Customer: “Hey, so is it fixed?”

Me: “Well, it seems that you pull the plug of the modem and router whenever you use the vacuum cleaner, but forget to put the plug back in. Your husband puts the plugs back when he’s home, so that’s why all services work whenever he comes home.”

Customer: “But I use wireless; I don’t need that stupid box of s***.”

Me: “Well, actually, you need it, ma’am, because that box sends the wireless signal.”

Customer: “Oh.” *screams the name of the husband* “YOU MOTHERF*****! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THIS, YOU PIECE OF S***? NOW I’M F****** EMBARRASSED, YOU D***-HEAD!”

Me: “Is there anything I can assist you with, ma’am?”

Customer: “No, thanks. Lots of love, and thanks for the support!”

Me: “You’re welcome. Have a nice day.”

(Just when I said my last line, I heard pots and pans getting thrown around. I just hung up and burst into laughter. My supervisor asked me why I was laughing, so I told him the story and let him listen to the call. It was a fun day.)

We’re Not Selling What You’re Buying

, , , , , , | Right | October 30, 2017

(I work at a large and “alternative” store known for its laid back attitude and plain-clothes “uniform.” People tend to shop at this store for the prices, regardless of how they feel about alternative culture. We are trained to ask open-ended questions when approaching customers.)

Me: “Hi there! What brings you into [Store] today?”

Customer: *looking me up and down with disdain* “Does this look like a F****** CHEMIST to you?”

Me: *stuttering* “No?”

Customer: “Then, clearly, I want to buy something! F***!”

Me: *smiles and walks off*

Smoking Is A Habit That Will Kill You All

, , , , , | Right | October 30, 2017

(I’m filling up my tank when I hear shouting from the next pump over.)

Guy: “Turn the pump on!”

Attendant: *over the intercom* “Sir, I told you that you have to put out your cigarette before I can turn the pump on!

Guy: *getting louder* “TURN THE PUMP BACK ON, GOD D*** IT!”

Guy’s Girlfriend: “C’mon! Turn the pump on! We paid already!”

Attendant: “I will turn it on when he puts out his cigarette!”

(They keep going back and forth for about a minute or so until the guy finally puts out his cigarette.)

Guy’s Girlfriend: “UGH! Finally!”

(They seemed like a really great couple.)

Their Hearts Were No Longer In It

, , , , , , | Right | October 30, 2017

(I work in a very busy restaurant in the “function room.” This room holds ten tables of ten seats each. I always work alone in this section. I find many large tables so much easier to manage and serve than lots of smaller, two-seat tables. A table is celebrating a birthday. All guests at the table range from ages 18 to 25, and they have been “playing up” pretty much all night, making stupid requests, like asking for another serviette because the one they had wasn’t folded the same as another or sending a meal back to the kitchen because they decided they wanted what the person next to them was having. You know, those type of guests!)

Birthday Boy: *handing me a pen, which you have to click at the top to use* “May I please have your autograph? I get everyone I meet at my birthday dinner to sign a serviette.”

Me: *feeling a little chuffed to be asked* “Sure, I’d love to.”

(The customer hands me the pen, and I go to “click” the pen to make it work, and in fact it isn’t a pen but a small shock-emitting device. Once it shocks me — which isn’t a small shock, mind you! — everyone at the table starts to laugh, finding it so funny to shock a complete stranger.)

Me: “Ouch! That wasn’t a very nice thing to do!”

Birthday Boy: “Oh, it’s funny. See? Everyone is laughing!”

Me: *wanting to get my own back at him for shocking me, and for being so rude all night* “No. It’s not a nice thing to do! Let me tell you why. Three years ago I was diagnosed with a heart defect, and I now wear a pacemaker. The shock you just gave me could have put me into cardiac arrest! I don’t know what ‘manners’ your parents taught you, but young man, don’t ever do that to another person again. You don’t know their medical history; you don’t know anything about them.”

Birthday Boy: *looking like he has just seen a ghost* “Oh, I am so, so, so, so sorry. I didn’t know! Oh, geez, I feel so terrible now.”

(The whole entire table is now as quiet as a mouse, looking down and feeling terrible.)

Me: “Good. Now you know not to do that stuff again!”

(I walk out of the function room and into the kitchen and tell the restaurant owner what has just happened. He is ready to go and kick them all out when I stop him.)

Me: “Nope. Just leave it. I have a feeling my words did enough damage.”

(For the rest of the night, the table was the most perfectly-mannered table I had ever served. When it came time for them to leave — after they helped me clear off their table! — they called me over. They had already paid their bill, and they asked me to please close my eyes. Not trusting them, I told them I’d rather not, but [Birthday Boy] insisted, promising me nothing bad would happen. So, I played along, and someone took my hand and put it upright. Knowing what the feel of money is, I knew they were putting notes into my hand. Each and every single person at that table gave me a tip, and at the same time they all said “sorry.” My little “white lie” about having a pace-maker earned me $265 in tips! Ka-ching!)

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Parenting Should Be Mightier Than The Sword

, , , , , | Right | October 30, 2017

(We supply recreational and reenactment weaponry. Most of it is foam of varying density, as well as nylon and rattan for martial arts. We can provide metal weaponry with proof of permit. It’s Saturday and technically we’re not open. There’s even a gate that’s meant to be closed, but I’m on site cleaning up and must have accidentally left it unlocked. The front door opens and in walks a man with two children under the age of ten.)

Me: “Hi there. Uh… We’re technically closed to the public today. Did you book an appointment?”

(The two children immediately rush in and start picking things up and trying to stab each other, squealing each time they do.)

Customer: “Oh, I was just at the rec centre down the street with the kids, and a friend told me this store was here, so we thought we’d have a look.”

Me: “Well, I suppose you’re here already.”

(I spend the next twenty minutes explaining the different types and brands, including two ranges specifically meant for children, while the kids run around picking everything up, screaming about how it’s not real, and then throwing it on the floor.)

Customer: “And what if I wanted some metal swords?”

Me: “We can get those for you. We don’t keep them on site, because kids come into the showroom regularly and it would be a hazard, considering they’re prone to picking things up and swinging them about. But we can get them in. You do, of course, need to provide us with your license or proof of permit and make an appointment so we can ensure minors aren’t present, and we need to make sure you have the proper safety gear at home.”

Child #1: “But I want one now!”

Customer: “And what if I want to get some for the kids?”

Me: “Then I would refuse to sell to you, because they’re clearly underage and can’t legally have one.”

Customer: “Yeah, but look at them; they really want some!”

(At this point one of the children is on the ground, howling in protest and being stabbed in the chest repeatedly by the other.)

Me: “Yeah, no. Absolutely not.”

Customer: “So, what am I doing here letting you waste my time for?”

Me: “I have no idea, sir. As I said when you came in, we’re meant to be closed today.”

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