I work in web sales at the head office for a mid-size retailer that has eighty-ish brick and mortar stores and sells widgets that are of a somewhat personal nature — not like that! As we can’t resell it if it’s been used and we don’t have a third-party vendor to return to, our policy is overall generous but very strict: all items must be in the original packaging, unused, and undamaged.

I’m encouraged to help with store-level issues to the best of my ability before transferring them to the store liaison, so when a woman calls me, I tell her she has the wrong department, but I’ll try to help if I can.

The woman has bought two of our accessory pieces as well as a main piece in our store and brought them home. She laid them out to look at them and decided that, while she likes the main piece, she doesn’t care all that much for the accessories. She wants to return them. I ask for more details.

Me: “So, have you taken them back to the store to request a return?”

Customer: “I did, but the manager wouldn’t take them back! And she was super rude. I took my things and told her head office would hear about this!”

Me: “Oh, dear. Which manager was this?”

She names the manager I literally spoke to two hours ago, whom I know to be a genuine sweetheart.

Me: “Okay, and what did she say? Why wasn’t she able to do the return?”

Customer: “My husband threw out the packaging, which wasn’t my fault, but I didn’t know I needed to keep the original packaging. [Corporation #1] and [Corporation #2] take returns without packaging all the time!”

We are not a large corporate entity the likes of [Corporation #1] and can’t absorb losses the way they can.

Me: “Oh, dear. Yes, well, it does say so on the receipt—”

Customer: “Well, she said that and I said, ‘I didn’t look at the receipt!’ And she rudely pointed at a sign on the register, but I shouldn’t be expected to read signs at the register! They should have told me when I bought the items! [Corporation #1] and [Corporation #2] never have a problem with doing these types of returns. She was just completely unwilling to make me a happy customer!”

She goes on quite a bit more, rehashing the same stuff.

Me: “Okay, well, I’m going to have to speak to the manager, and someone will be in touch with you.”

I called the manager and her version pretty well lined up with the customer’s, except that, apparently, the woman was hysterical and screaming at her, but she tried her best to stay calm. We laughed a bit, I reassured her that she had done nothing wrong, and I told her to email her version to her district manager and the liaison and CC me, and I’d fill the liaison in when she was back in the office.

When I told the liaison, I told her, “Read that email chain; we have a customer who wants complaint resolution because… [Manager that the liaison has known for years and has been friends with for most of them] followed corporate policy and did her job. Have fun!”

The liaison sent the woman a polite but firm email saying that they would accept a return this once, but that the manager had been doing her job. We never heard from the lady again.

For as long as I can remember, employees have not been allowed a drink on the factory floor. Sure, you can have a drink in the break rooms, and you can go grab a drink if it is really hot. But no drinks at the workstation! I’ve never really questioned it; it is the rule and you get told off if you don’t follow it. It is easier to comply than it is to go out of your way to break the rules.

This summer is hot — unbearably hot. The company dishes out coffee mugs with screw-on lids. The rule is: use this cup or no drinks! Again, not a problem. I, like many, fill mine with water and use it as I work.

It is about this time that [Coworker] starts. [Coworker] is one of those guys whose motto is, “You can’t tell me what to do.” He seems to pick something totally arbitrary or just plain annoying to rally against, and once it is in his head he won’t put it down. It’s a shame because he does get on with his work, when he feels like it.

It seems that [Coworker] doesn’t like to use the mugs and will bring bottles of drink in. He was told off a few times, so he hides the bottles. Someone points this out to a leader, so [Coworker] gets extremely passive-aggressive and keeps bringing in drinks anyway.

A few months go on and the spectacle of [Coworker] and his drinks becomes a bit boring. I am only aware that it is an issue when they call the entire shop floor together about a recent “issue.”

Leader: “Someone spilt a bottle of cola over a handmade, custom car interior. Not only do we have to scrap this, but it was already late. And it was a replacement for one already sent wrong. The customer is not going to be happy!

General muttering and swearing goes around the crowd and [Coworker]’s name is mentioned several times.

Another Coworker: “Does this mean we are going to lose our drinks?”

There’s more swearing and general cursing of [Coworker].

Leader: “Now, now… No, you will not be losing your drinks. The matter has been solved another way. But please continue to use the provided non-spill cups.”

I looked around and realised that I hadn’t seen [Coworker] for a few days. It looks like his attitude of not being told what to do got him told to go home and not to come back.

My youngest sister-in-law moved closer to us a couple of years ago and we have included her and her boyfriend in our friend circle which we have known for approximately ten years. Everybody is in their mid- to late twenties; [Sister-In-Law] and her boyfriend are the youngest.

Our Dutch friends have a summer party every year, and this year, for the first time, they invite [Sister-In-Law] and her boyfriend. The Dutch friends start an email chain as it is a potluck party. 

Sister-In-Law: “We are bringing our friend, [Guest], as well.”

The party hostess is obviously a bit surprised to be told and not asked.

Hostess: “I guess that is okay.”

After a couple of emails about food:

Sister-In-Law’s Boyfriend: *To [Hostess]* “So, do you have a large table where [Guest] can set up?”

Another friend in the group email replies.

Friend: “It’s okay. We are only supposed to bring one or two dishes each. She won’t need a large table.”

Sister-In-Law’s Boyfriend: *As if stating the obvious* “For the health products she is going to sell us, of course. It is amazing what they can do! It has changed our lives!”

My dear husband and I see this email before our Dutch friends and have a discussion on how to politely stop [Sister-In-Law] and her boyfriend from embarrassing themselves further, but while my husband is composing an email to his sister, the hostess responds.

Hostess: “This is our summer party, not a sales party! You can tell [Guest] she is no longer welcome!”

Sister-In-Law: “But everybody will love the products and I promised her I would arrange this.”

Hostess: “NO!”

Host: “Do not bring her!”

Our Dutch friends are graceful and do not uninvite [Sister-In-Law] and her boyfriend, but at the party, both [Sister-In-Law] and her boyfriend still can’t understand that they have done anything wrong or weird.

Sister-In-Law: “Too bad they didn’t want to hear about all the nice products. This would have been such a perfect setting for a sales party.”

I have a distinct feeling [Sister-In-Law] either would have kept the hostess gift herself or would have gotten a discount on her next purchase for “arranging the party.”

In all fairness, I had complained to [Hostess] about [Sister-In-Law]’s immaturity and bad manners a couple of times, so I did not feel too bad for her. Anyway, she was better at shutting [Sister-In-Law]’s antics down than we were.

[Sister-In-Law] and her boyfriend — who became her husband — “saw the light” many more times in the following years, but after a couple of failed tries to “convert” us to whatever nonsense product or fad they were fans of, they realized we were out of pedagogic reach and stopped trying.

I work at a call center for an insurance company, though we are brokers, so we work with multiple companies. When customers visit one of our offices, a broker will sit them down, take their info and, if interested, a policy document is provided, with the customer’s name and address on each and every one of the pages, so if you sign, you basically agree that the information on the contract you read is correct and true, etc.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Insurance Company]. My name is [My Name]. May I have your policy number?

Customer: “Yes, it’s [number]. I haven’t received my bills from you guys and want to make sure everything’s all right.”

After verification, I check her account. It was just opened up less than a month ago and it’s already cancelled for non-payment. I look at the address on file and on her physical policy which we keep scanned copies of, and realize her street address was misspelled. The current address was not found by a search engine.

Me: “I’ve noticed that your street name is Wheelchair. Is that correct?”

Customer: *Laughs* “No, everyone here pronounces it ‘Wheelchair,’ but it’s Wilshire.”

She also spells it out.

Me: “It seems that’s the reason you haven’t gotten your bills, ma’am.”

Customer: “Oh, it happens.” *Still cheery*

Me: “Understandable. So, because a payment was not provided, most likely because of this, your policy has been cancelled. So, to reinstate it, it would only be [amount], including reinstatement fees.”

This is where all Hell breaks loose, where the customer’s tone of voice changes from merry to “everyone run for your lives.”

Customer: “What? What do you mean, reinstate fee? Why cancelled?”

Me: “Since your payment was not received and your grace period expired, your policy was cancelled—”

Customer: “Well, how is it my fault that your illiterate broker was too stupid to spell my address correctly?”

Me: “I do see that you signed your policy, in which—”

Customer: “I know I signed the policy, but your stupid coworker didn’t f****** spell my address correctly. How the f*** is it my fault?!”

Me: “As I’m trying to tell you, since you signed your policy, which includes your name and address on every single page, you are agreeing that said information is correct.”

Customer: “You’d better not be blaming this on me, you piece of s***. Fix it and reinstate my policy!”

Me: “I can definitely fix the spelling on that. Of course, I’d need a copy of your driver’s license to—”

Customer: “No! Fix it now and get me covered, or I’m taking this to corporate, you little s***head!”

Me: “I can provide you with corporate’s number so you can—”

Customer: “I’m done talking to you! Next time I call, this better be solved or you can kiss your f****** job goodbye!” *Hangs up*

I made sure to notate everything in case she calls back. Months after that happened, I quit that job… so I kissed it goodbye on my own accord!

Related:
Not Much Assurance About The Insurance, Part 14
Not Much Assurance About The Insurance, Part 13
Not Much Assurance About The Insurance, Part 12
Not Much Assurance About The Insurance, Part 11
Not Much Assurance About The Insurance, Part 10

My husband’s mother doesn’t trust men. When my husband was eight he “broke up” with a classmate. His mother yelled at him, saying he was just like all men.

He had a girlfriend in high school for two years but they mutually broke up their junior year. When my husband and I got engaged, some friends, including his ex-girlfriend, threw me a bridal shower. At one point, I was in a small circle of women: me, my husband’s ex-girlfriend, his mom, his sister, and two friends. His mother turned to the ex.

Husband’s Mom: “[Ex-Girlfriend], this should be your bridal shower.”

I told my husband that night that when we got married, his mother could visit but her suitcases would never come through the front door. She also told us we couldn’t invite his dad to the wedding. I told her we already had and would let her know if he was coming so she could decide if she wanted to attend. If looks could kill…