Data Error

, , , , , | Right | March 23, 2020

(I take escalated calls for a major cell phone provider.)

Customer: “I want to know exactly how much data five gigabytes gets me, and no one will help me!”

Me: “I understand you’re frustrated, but the term ‘gigabytes’ is a unit of measurement. There is no way to be more specific.”

Customer: “Yes, there is! I want to know exactly how much five gigabytes is — how much Internet it gives me.”

Me: “Are you asking in terms of time, or in terms of website size? Because that really depends on how you use it.”

Customer: “No, I want to know how much Internet it gives me. I ain’t telling you what I look up, you Asian b****!”

(I am not Asian, but whatever.)

Me: “Sir, you are along the equivalent of ‘If I buy a gallon of milk, how many sips will I get?’. I can tell you how many kilobytes—”

Customer: “I have a $500 bill, and I want that credited, since you don’t speak English, you foreign w****!”

(I’m an American.)

Me: “Sir, perhaps I don’t understand the question. What unit of measurement would you like me to use?”

Customer: “I don’t know. What do you measure data in?”

Me: “Are you serious with me right now?”

Customer: *hangs up*

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No Credit, No Sight, No Chance

, , , , | Right | March 23, 2020

(I’m an overnight gas station attendant. It is Friday night and we are slammed. A very drunk man comes up to the counter.)

Customer: “I need a carton of Camel filters.”

(I ring up the purchase and he pays with debit. It doesn’t work.)

Customer: “Here. You do it.”

(He hands me the card.)

Me: “Sir, this isn’t a real debit card. It’s one of the cardboard ones that come with wallets.”

Customer: “How is that my fault? I’m still getting those cigarettes. Can’t you see I’m blind?”

Me: “I… I’m sorry. Do you have another card you want to pay with?”

Customer: “H*** no. Look at me. I look like I got credit cards?”

(He then stumbled over to the ATM, tried his card, and passed out. He was my second police call of the night.)

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Here’s A Tip: DON’T

, , , , | Romantic | March 21, 2020

(I work at a coffee shop. There is one customer who, for the past two weeks, has been coming into the shop, ordering a coffee, putting a twenty in the tip jar, and just staring at me. He doesn’t blink, look away, or anything; he just stares at me with a creepy grin. He gives us a lot of tips and business, so my boss refuses to throw him out. 

I don’t usually work on weekends, and I take an extra day off to take my dog to the vet. When I return, my coworker immediately pulls me aside.)

Coworker: “Hey, [My Name], your boyfriend was looking for you earlier.”

Me: “I don’t have a boyfriend.” 

Coworker: “Sure, you do.” *winks* 

(I have a bad gut feeling about this, so I remain on alert, and ten minutes later, the creepy customer comes in, coming up to me and ordering his usual.)

Customer: “When are you going to go out with me?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t think this is appropriate. And would you please stop staring at me?” 

Customer: “Sorry, but you are so beautiful that I can’t help it.” 

(He starts making lewd jokes, and by now, my coworker has noticed, and so have a couple of customers sitting nearby.) 

Me: “Sir, I’ve asked you to stop. I’m not going to ask you again.” 

Customer: “Come on, you want me. If you didn’t, you would have kicked me out by now. Your boss and coworkers don’t mind.” 

Coworker: “Actually, I do. Sir, you are disturbing my coworker, me, and other customers. I regret telling you when she was supposed to come in. I’m sorry I didn’t realize how serious this was. Please leave, and don’t return, or the police will be called.”

(The customer leaves, grumbling, and the other customers, who are both men, come up and put money in the tip jar.) 

Customer #2: “If you hadn’t kicked him out, I would have. That was disturbing on so many levels.”

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They Say There Are No Stupid Questions, But…

, , , , , , | Working | March 20, 2020

(I’ve been dealing with morning sickness for weeks and my doctor’s office has sent me four reminders in two days this week to get blood work done, unrelated to the pregnancy. Today, I’m finally feeling well enough to go to the blood lab in the morning. It is a 30-minute drive to get there, and I’ve had to take a little time off work.)

Me: “Hello, I’m here for a blood draw.” *provides my name, date of birth, etc. as needed*

Blood Lab Front Desk: “Oh, we don’t have any record of this. Are you sure your doctor’s office sent it over?”

Me: “Yes, they’ve even sent me multiple reminders this week to come here.”

Blood Lab Front Desk: *confirms the name of my doctor* “No, there’s no record of this. Do you want me to call them?”

Me: “No, thank you. I’ll call them myself as I won’t have the time now to wait for them to send the order over and still do the draw.”

(So, I call the doctor’s office and explain the situation.)

Receptionist: “Well, we sent the order over. We faxed it.”

Me: “Okay, but they are saying they don’t have it, so they won’t do the draw. I’ve just driven for 30 minutes to do this and taken time off work. Now I don’t know when I’ll be able to do it again.”

Receptionist: “Um, well, we did fax it. Well, do you, like, um, want us to fax it again?”

Me: “Yes!”

(Inside I was thinking, “No! Please just continue to be as useless as you are right now.”)

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This Story Belongs On The Onion

, , , | Right | March 19, 2020

(I’m taking orders on drive-thru. We have a screen that shows what the customer has ordered so far.)

Customer: “Does [sandwich he ordered] come with onions?”

Me: “Yes, it does.”

Customer: “Could I have extra onions?”

Me: “All right.”

(I punch in “extra onion.”)

Customer: “I want extra onion.”

Me: “Okay.”

(I start spamming the “extra onion” button until finally the screen says “nine extra onion.”)

Customer: “I want extra onion.”

Me: “I got that already, sir.”

Customer: “Oh.”

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