(My spouse is the more organized one, so he is kind enough to pay all the bills and since most are a predictable amount, my half is set to transfer from my account to his every month. One month I have some financial complications. I call my bank’s 1-800 line to figure something out.)

Me: “Hi. I have an automatic transfer set up, sending $467 to my husband on the fifth of each month. This month I was short on funds and we weren’t sure how to temporarily pause these transfers, so he transferred the needed money to me so I wouldn’t get an NSF fee. However, the monthly transfer never came out, and I am calling to find out why.”

Rep: “Don’t worry; it did go through! I see a transfer of $467 on the fifth! Do you need any other help?”

Me: “No, the money did not come out. I have my account open in front of me; nothing came out.”

Rep: “Yep! Right here on the fifth, as you said, to another account held with our bank, probably your husband, as you said, for $467.”

Me: “So, on your version of my transaction history, you see one $467 from him to me, and one from me to him?”

Rep: “No, just the one transfer.”

Me: “Okay, that is the same thing I see, then. And it’s a transfer to me. What I wish to investigate is a transfer from me that failed to happen. It’s gone through every month for ages, so I know it was set up properly.”

Rep: “I get you. Hmm, yes, I see a transfer of $467 on the fifth of last month, the month before… and again this month, so you’re all good! Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Me: “As I said, there was no such transfer this month. My spouse loaned me the money to cover it, but it didn’t get taken; it is still sitting in my account. The $467 transaction in my records is that loan, to me. But there should be another transaction of it going out, automatically.”

Rep: *still all perky, showing no doubt or confusion, seemingly unable to even realize she is failing to grasp something* “Yes! The payment took place; you have nothing to worry about!”

Me: “But it didn’t!”

Rep: “Yes, $467, on the fifth!”

Me: “So, you’re a phone rep who refuses to listen to callers, and a bank employee who doesn’t see a difference between incoming and outgoing money? Seriously?!”

(I let out a window-rattling groan of frustration and misery and hung up on her. If you’re curious about the missing transaction, it turns out that we’d set the automatic transfer to run for two years, not forever, so it had simply reached its end and shut off. It’s now set to run forever. And if we do any other shuffling of money between our accounts, we choose any number BUT $467, to avoid confusing any slow-witted bank employees!)

(I work the front desk at a hotel in a small but popular tourist city. About a fourth of our customers book through online sites which require payment up front and are almost always non-cancellable and non-refundable. While we can add special requests to the reservations — first floor requested, needs a cot, etc. — any changes must be made through the online site — change of date, change of room type, etc. One night I am working and we are sold out. All my check-ins have arrived and I’ve been turning away walk-ins all night. Just after 9:30, a couple walks in dragging a great deal of luggage, something that walk-in clients don’t normally do, and when they come to the front desk holding out a printed reservation confirmation I know things aren’t going to go smoothly.)

Me: “Hello! Welcome to [Hotel]. Do you all have a reservation tonight?”

Customer #1: “Yes, we do! And we can’t wait to get in; we’ve been driving for nine hours. The name is [Customer #1].”

(I look her up in my arrivals list, but not only is she not there but, as I mentioned already, all my guests have arrived.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t seem to have a reservation for you tonight, and unfortunately, we are fully booked.”

Customer #1: “No… I have my reservation confirmation right here.”

(She hands me her printed confirmation and I see that she is booked for this day NEXT MONTH. I check the system for upcoming reservations and, sure enough, hers pops up for that date.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m terribly sorry, but your reservation if for this date next month.”

Customer #1: *feigning surprise* “Whaaat? How could that be? I’m sure I chose tonight’s date…”

(I look at the date the reservation was made; it was booked last night, long after we sold out for the weekend and closed down the room sales for online sites. I know at this point that she booked whatever date came up available and just figured we would check her in when she got here. Were we not sold out I might have been able to help her, but this simply isn’t an option tonight.)

Me: “Well, I am sympathetic to your situation, but all of my rooms are sold for the next three days, and there are people currently in each of our rooms, so I have literally no wiggle room here.”

Customer #2: *the husband or boyfriend* “I can’t believe this; we’ve been driving for nine hours to get here and we have to be up early for a wedding. Do you have an out of order room or a dirty room or something we could just crash in?”

Me: “Sadly, no, but I wouldn’t be able to give you an out of order room even if there was one. I could lose my job.”

Customer #1: “I can’t believe you messed up our reservation like this! How do you intend to compensate us?”

Customer #2: “Babe, don’t worry about it. Look, I’m sure we can find another hotel nearby.”

Me: “Actually, sir, every hotel in the area is sold out. The closest hotel with vacancies is in [City], which is about four hours from here.”

Customer #1: “Are you serious?! I’m not driving another four hours because you people screwed up!”

Customer #2: “Babe, stop this…”

Me: “Look, how about I call [Website] for you to see if there is anything they can do?”

Customer: “Oh, do you guys have a special hotel number to call for hotel staff?”

Me: “Yes, we do. They may have to speak with you, just the same, but they usually answer quicker than on the customer line.”

Customer #1: “Oh, good, because when we tried to call to change the date nobody answered… uh, I mean…”

Me: “So, you were aware that your reservation wasn’t for today and you drove out here, anyway?”

Customer #1: “Oh, for goodness’ sake, just get us a room! It’s not my fault your website wasn’t working. I tried booking for today, but it wouldn’t let me! I had to keep changing the date until it worked! Your website was broken or something, and that’s not my fault!”

Me: “Ma’am, you couldn’t book for those dates because we were sold out. There were no more rooms to sell. If you booked for [date], then your reservation will be for that date, not any other night.”

(She starts crying and screaming at me, but the husband/boyfriend gets her to quiet down in under a minute and they go outside to their truck. A few minutes later the guy comes in alone.)

Customer #2: “Hey. Um, first of all, I wanted to apologize for her. This is actually the third time she’s done this, and the last two times they were able to get the date changed and check us in. I don’t think she fully understands how this business works.”

Me: “I understand. I’m really sorry there isn’t anything I can do, but you’re welcome to stay in the parking lot overnight, and you are free to use our guest bathroom overnight and the pool shower to freshen up in the morning.”

Customer #2: “I appreciate that, but we’re just going to head back home, I think. I simply can’t handle her public outbursts and crying. She is nearly thirty years old and yet acts like a spoiled child who always has to get her own way, you know? It’s gotten to the point that I don’t like taking her out in public because I know I’m probably going to have to come back in and apologize like I’m doing right now. I think it’s time to end things and move on. Thanks for your patience!”

(He then calmly shook my hand and walked out. I couldn’t believe he’d divulged so much personal information to a complete stranger, but I figured he must have been at his breaking point and just needed to talk. What an unusual night for me.)

(I am the front-desk manager at a hotel that is located across the street from the bus station and train station. I have been gone on maternity for just over a year and during that time we gained a new regular customer. This customer has been staying with us every six weeks during our down time — fall, winter, and spring — when we have very few bookings and can make special price arrangements to get people into the rooms. We are now in the middle of summer and we are sold out or close to it every night. I take a call from a customer. This conversation takes place in French.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Hotel]; this is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Yes, this is Mr. [Caller]. I’m going to need a room this Friday. I will be arriving around ten am on the bus and will be using the room only until around ten pm when my train comes in. They do this for me all the time and give me a discounted rate.”

Me: “Okay, Mr. [Caller], that’s not a problem. I can book that for you.”

(I get the information in the system, thank the customer for his business, and send off the confirmation. During our down time we can book a customer for zero days, which will automatically generate a price of about 50% off the down season rate, referred to as a day rate. In the summertime, our rates are about $20 more per night and the day rate is disabled. If a customer wants a room, they have to pay for the whole night regardless what time they leave. Since he is a regular, I do give him a significant discount, making the rate about $25 more than he normally would pay, and about $30 less than the normal rate. Within minutes I get another call.)

Me: “Thank you for calling—“

Caller: “It’s Mr. [Caller]. I just booked a room for the day, and the confirmation you sent is for a whole night.”

Me: “Oh! Mr. [Caller], hello! I apologize for the confusion. It will show in the system that you have the room for the night because during the summer we can’t do day rates. But I have noted that you will be leaving the room by ten pm and you have been booked at a discounted rate—“

Caller: “Argh! I wanted the room for the day, and I always pay [price $25 less], AND I WANT A F****** MANAGER NOW! MANAGER NOOOOW!”

Me: “Sir, I am a manager and I understand that—“

Caller: *literally screaming into the phone to the point that I can barely understand him* “I HAVE A COMPLAINT; I WANT A MANAGER!” *garbled speech* “F****** RATE!” *garbled speech* “WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU OR YOUR HOTEL!” *more garbled speech followed by a string of French swear words, and then he hangs up*

(While he is rambling on and on I change the reservation to reflect that he isn’t staying the night and resend the confirmation. Within about thirty seconds of hanging up he calls again.)

Caller: “You just sent me a new confirmation, but it’s still the wrong rate and I want NOTHING to do with your f****** hotel! Cancel it NOW!”

(Then, he hangs up again. I decide to give in and manually change the price to LESS than what he expected to pay, to try to avoid losing a regular. I call him back to try to smooth things over.)

Me: “Hello, Mr. [Caller]. This is [My Name] calling from [Hotel]. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve changed the rate to [price lower than he requested], and I will also give you a free upgrade to the jacuzzi suite so you can relax while you wait for your train. Again, I apologize for the confusion; our prices and policies are different during the summer and—“

Caller: “Argh, I want NOTHING to do with you or your f****** hotel! CANCEL IT, YOU B****! I AM DONE WITH YOU PEOPLE!” *followed by a string of French swear words and insults and other garbled speech*

Me: “Sir, SIR! I am cancelling your reservation. You are no longer welcome to stay here. Have a good night. I am ending this call now.”

(I hang up and immediately send out a note to all the staff, filling them in on the situation and advising them not to book him a room. About an hour later, just as I’m getting ready to leave, my colleague stops me:)

Colleague: “We’ve gotten an email from our online booking department regarding the customer in question. You have to see it.”

(I can’t help but laugh as I read it. It should be noted that there are only four hotels in our little town, and as we are the only hotel within walking distance to the bus and train stations, we are also the only hotel to offer day rates for bus and train passengers. This is a special arrangement that is made by the general manager and is only valid during slow times. This rate CANNOT be applied online and must be done directly through the hotel. Based on the email, the customer has tried unsuccessfully to book at the three other hotels, only to find that they not only are fully booked but would charge the full rate which is more than our full rate. He then tried to book online, only to find that he would have to pay the full rate. The end of the email reads as follows:)

Email: “The guest would like to apologize for the way he spoke to your staff and would like to know if he can still take the room and if it will still be the discounted rate you offered. He said he loves your hotel, despite what he said. Can you please contact the client by email or phone?”

(I laughed, called the customer — who didn’t answer — and left him a voicemail. I told him if he wanted the room he would have to call the hotel directly. He never did call, and on the day he’d planned to come stay with us, we saw him sitting outside the train station on a bench in the sweltering heat for most of the day. I would have gladly let him come in, if only he had asked. I guess he realized what an a** he had been and was too embarrassed to show his face. We never saw him at our hotel again, but we have seen him walking around the parking lot of the train station from time to time. Good for him.)

Growing up with divorced parents, once a month my mom would pack us up for the eight-hour drive to visit my dad and brother for the weekend. One time, we were roughly halfway through our trip when her engine suddenly died in the middle of nowhere. We were fortunate enough that this happened on a section of the canyon road that actually had a shoulder wide enough to pull out on, and that she had enough momentum to reach it before we came to a halt. Being in the age before cell phones — and even today, that area is probably still out of range of the nearest tower — she put on her hazard lights and we proceeded to wait… and wait… and wait…

Around four hours later, someone pulled over to ask if we needed help, and she asked him to call her a tow truck when he reached the next town. Two hours later, we were finally back on our way, and an hour after that we dropped off the car and check in to a hotel.

The next morning my dad picked us up and the car was left at the mechanic for them to fix for our return trip the next day. They inspected it and informed her that the problem was a very simple fix; there was a loose connection that had come free during the drive. Mom thanked them, paid, drove us home, and immediately went to the mechanic who had checked out her car two days before her drive to demand an explanation.

It turned out that one of his employees was in the process of opening a shop of his own, and had deliberately loosened that connection — as well as sabotaged other customer’s cars — in an effort to discredit his employer and drive their business to him.

I have no idea what happened to that guy, but the boss gave my mom several hundred dollars of free maintenance on her car to make up for everything.

(It’s a really busy day at the restaurant where I work. There’s a line out the door, and the moment a table gets cleared off it gets filled again. I’m serving a section that’s kind of separated from the rest of the restaurant. There’s one table that’s in a little nook at the back. There are tables straight across from it and it’s long enough that if you need to sweep or vacuum under it you need to move the tables across from it in order to pull that table out. One of my tables earlier in the day has somehow managed to smash about three glasses on the table in the nook. Because the table across is full, I can’t pull the table out to get all the glass from underneath — they got glass EVERYWHERE — so I warn my manager and the rest of the staff not to seat anyone there. Then, I clean the glass shards from the table, booth seats, and the floor in front of the table as much as I can, just as I was told to do. It is later in the day. A new family is seated at the table across from the nook table. For most of their meal, everything is fine and pleasant. I notice at one point they have let their young daughter — about five — start to run around, climbing on other tables and crawling on the floor. I warn her once not allow her kid to run around and climb on tables because it is dangerous and she could get hurt. Near the end of the meal, as I’m clearing away dishes, the mother stops me by grabbing my arm.)

Mother: “Excuse me. That’s really dangerous, you know. There are glass slivers on that table. My daughter could get hurt.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, some customers broke some glasses earlier. I thought I had it cleaned as best I could at the time, but that’s one of the reasons we don’t want children crawling and climbing on tables where they aren’t seated. I’ll clean the table further.”

Mother: “Well, do it fast; it’s really not responsible to leave it like that!”

(I look at the table. There are no slivers that I can see on the table, but I do spot some I’ve missed on the booth seats. I grab a cloth, anyway, and come back to wipe down the seats when I see her daughter is now crawling around UNDERNEATH the table with the broken glass. When the daughter sees me she climbs out from underneath and I begin wiping the seats.)

Mother: “I knew it! Excuse me!”

(I turn back to her.)

Me: “Yes.”

Mother: “My daughter got hurt because of your incompetence!”

(The mother then holds her daughter’s hand out; she has a tiny cut on her hand about the length and width of a small papercut.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I—“

Mother: “I don’t want to hear it. If you’d cleaned properly in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened. Get me a bandaid now, and I want to speak to your manager.”

(The daughter is looking really uncomfortable and trying to pull away, telling her mother she wants to go play. I apologize again and go to get a bandaid and tell my manager what happened. He tells me he’ll be with them in a minute and I give the bandaid to the mother. Everything seems fine until I notice that the daughter is back playing at the nook table.)

Me: “Ma’am, as you already pointed out, and as I’ve already told you, it’s not safe for your daughter to be climbing and playing at that table.”

Mother: “She can do what she wants!”

(My manager arrives and sends me off to do other tasks while he speaks with the customer. A few minutes later, my manager is telling me that he’s going to have other servers cover my tables so I can go scrub down the tables to make sure all the glass is gone. I assume everything has been worked out with the mother… until I hear her shouting again.)

Mother: “D*** it, your stocking is ripped, too! You!” *points at me* “You are in sooo much trouble. If you had just done as you’re supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. My baby wouldn’t have been hurt. I’m calling the cops on you! I’m going to have you arrested for assault, you b****! You left glass there on purpose!”

(I just decide to ignore her and go tell my manager what’s happened now. The daughter isn’t bleeding from the leg, and I am just about at the point of yelling back at her about watching her child instead of letting her run around, so I figure it is best to just not engage her. My manager agrees and sends me back out to keep scrubbing the table. He comes out to talk to them and offers them 20% off their bill. They seem content and he walks away.)

Mother: *turning back towards me as I clean* “D*** useless b****, trying to hurt my daughter. You’re going to be arrested, you know. I’m going to charge you with assault. Aggravated assault even. What, are you deaf? Are you even listening to me?”

(I continue to ignore her and just keep cleaning.)

Grandmother: “What are you doing with that jam, [Mother]?”

Mother: “This lazy b**** doesn’t want to clean, so I’m going to give her something to clean. I’m going to open every one of these and smear them on the tables!”

Grandmother: “Stop it; you’re making a scene.”

Mother: “No!”

(She then proceeded to open three or four packs of jam and smear them on the table and seats. Just as I was about to go tell my manager what was happening, she stood up and rushed to the front where customers are supposed to pay. She then continued to rant to the manager about my poor service, cleaning job, attitude, etc. She then demanded he make it up to her daughter for getting injured by giving her a free stuffed animal and giving them their meal free. In the end, the manager gave them the 20% off and a free toy. With them gone I was finally able to pull out the nook table and properly clean underneath.)