This Job May Require Telepathy, Part 3

, , , , | Right | May 14, 2021

When a customer submits a complaint online, it is forwarded to our District Manager, who then forwards it to our store. When I opened our email today this was an actual complaint we had received:

Complaint: “I ordered a bacon burrito combo with seasoned fries. When I got home, I had seasoned fries in my bag. I’m really upset. What I actually meant to order was hash browns. How come I was given seasoned fries? You should have known I wanted hash browns for my breakfast.”

Unfortunately, I am most likely going to be told to replace her meal because she was charged for and given what she ORDERED, instead of what she meant to order.

Related:
This Job May Require Telepathy, Part 2
This Job May Require Telepathy

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Second Best Compliments

, , , , , | Right | May 11, 2021

I work as a waitress at a small restaurant. We do not have a dedicated hostess; this is done by whichever waitress is available.

A father and his six-year-old son, both regulars, always sit in a specific waitress’s section. I greet them.

Me: “Would you like a table or a booth?”

Little Boy: “We’d like a booth in [Specific Waitress]’s section.”

Me: “[Specific Waitress] is not working today.”

Without missing a beat, the little boy says:

Little Boy: “Oh, can we have your second-best waitress, then?”

It was said so innocently, I couldn’t help but laugh along with the father.

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When Electricity Is An Attractive Force

, , , , , | Right | May 11, 2021

Me: “Hello, [Company Acronym].”

Caller: “Hello, is this [Electrical Supplier #1]?”

Me: “No, this is [Electrical Supplier #2] in [Town].”

Caller: “Oh… so, you sell electrical supplies?”

Me: “Yes, we do.”

Caller: “Great, that’s what I’m looking for! Do you sell [item]? I’ve got a job at a hotel in [Town]…”

Me: “Let me transfer you to sales.”

An unconventional way to acquire a customer, but I’m not complaining!

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Backpack Attack

, , , | Right | May 5, 2021

I’m walking toward our back room to grab some plastic bags for the registers when my coworker grabs me and pulls me aside. He noticed a customer shopping in the men’s clothing who has a backpack on. We don’t allow backpacks inside our store to prevent shoplifting, and we have clear signs letting customers know of our policy.

Me: “How are you doing today, sir?”

Customer: “I’m doing fine.”

Me: “That’s great to hear! I just want to let you know that our store doesn’t allow backpacks inside for security reasons. I don’t think you’re going to steal from us, but I have to follow store policy. If you want, I can take your backpack up front behind the register and bring you back a ticket for it so you can keep shopping.”

Customer: “No, that’s okay. I’ll just leave.”

Me: “Okay. I’m sorry to hear that.”

Customer: “So that’s gonna be your reaction?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “You’re just gonna let me walk out of here? You’re willing to lose a sale over my backpack?”

Me: “Unfortunately, sir, as I’ve already explained, we don’t allow backpacks in our store. I’d be happy to take it up front for you if you want to keep shopping, but if not, you will need to leave.”

Customer: “That’s f****** stupid! You’re willing to lose my money because of a f****** backpack?! That’s a stupid-a** policy!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I am not the person who sets policy.”

I spot my manager, who is walking toward us carrying a stack of laptops.

Me: “If you would like to speak to a manager about this, my manager is coming toward us.” *To my manager* “This customer would like to speak with you.”

I take the laptops from her and carry them up front to our electronics case while she talks to the customer. I run back and grab the bags I need and bring them to the other cashiers. As I’m refilling the bag dispenser at my register nearest the entrance, the customer walks by me rather quickly. 

Customer: *Flipping me off* “F*** you, man! You’re an a**hole. I hope you’re happy now that you’ve lost my f****** business and I’m never coming back to this f****** s*** store ever again.”

He stormed out, still swearing up and down.

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You Can Tell It’s A Cat By The Way That It Is

, , , , , | Friendly | May 1, 2021

My friend is watching my Maine Coon while I’m out of town for a few weeks, sometimes staying the night so the cat isn’t alone. The cat is on a vet-approved diet to lose a few pounds, so no kitty treats, only a measured amount of food. One night, [Friend] calls me via video chat.

Me: “Hey, what’s up?”

Friend: “Your cat is a fat b*****d.”

Me: “Yes. And?”

Friend: “I decided to get a rotisserie chicken for dinner here tonight and your cat was sitting by the table, watching me eat it. He kept trying to reach up and steal a piece and I kept pushing him back down. I told him he wasn’t allowed and he got very upset.”

Me: “Yes, he’s horribly neglected and wasting away. I know; he tells me all the time.”

Friend: “I went to the garage to get a beer from the fridge out there and I came back and saw this.”

He turns the camera to see an empty plate on the table.

Me: “Oh, no.”

He shows me the tell-tale trail leading off the table, across the kitchen, and into the living room, and then stops on my cat trying to drag the chicken under a recliner. Unfortunately, the chair is too low for my huge cat and his prey, so he resorts to trying to pick the carcass clean, grumbling, and making eye contact with [Friend].

Friend: “He won’t let me take it.”

Me: *Laughing* “I’m so sorry. I’ll send you money for another one.”

Friend: “Oh, no, I was pretty much done with it. I’m just showing you what a greedy brat you’ve raised.”

I did send money anyway, both for the chicken and to cover the carpet cleaning. Eventually, [Friend] did wrestle the chicken away, though he paid with his skin. And, if you’re wondering, my cat is almost to his appropriate weight.

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