Four A Few Dollars More

, , , , , | Right | September 14, 2017

(I am an assistant manager. We are located in a suburb, and our clientele tends to be on the affluent side. It is not common for us to have clients from the city branches come out to our area. A customer approaches the counter and asks to withdraw money. I am standing nearby and overhear the conversation, though I am waiting on the phone and cannot interject.)

Customer: “I want to withdraw money, but I have nothing in the account.”

Teller: “Let me look it up… You are correct. We cannot do a withdrawal, because the balance is currently at zero.”

Customer: “It’s just $4! You can withdraw $4!”

Teller: “I am sorry, ma’am, I cannot do a withdrawal if it will take the account negative.”

Customer: “You don’t understand! I drove all around the city looking for these lamps and [Small Chain Store] has them! I’ve already spent $20 in gas going back and forth from the city! They’ll only hold them for one day! I can’t drive back out! It’s just $4!”

(The customer continues to ramble on over how she thought she enough money, but only needs $4 to get the set, and she really needs both lamps.)

Customer: “Well, ask someone else! Get your supervisor! My social security check comes in every month to this bank, you’ll have the money tonight!”

(I have returned to my desk to resume my phone call, but I am directly in front of the teller line. The teller approaches the closest supervisor, and he confirms that they cannot do the transaction, and returns to the customer he is helping.)

Customer: “This is why I hate this bank! You’re awful, horrible people! You have no customer service!”

(The customer has interrupted the supervisor and his customer, making the second customer step away from the window and cover her information and money.)

Supervisor: “Ma’am, we can’t take an account negative. If the money isn’t in the account, there is nothing we can give you.”

Customer: “I see the money there in your drawer! You have it! You just won’t give it to me!”

Supervisor: “So, what you’re saying is you want me to either steal from the bank or give you the money from my own wallet.”

Customer: “Yes! It’s just $4! You can take it from my social security deposit. It comes tonight!”

Supervisor: “We can’t help you until it is in your account. Come back tomorrow.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous! I want to see the manager!”

(I have finished up my phone call at this point, and I know it will inevitably fall upon me to handle the customer, as the branch manager had his own customer. The customer storms into my office and reiterates her lamp story. I look up the account.)

Me: “Well, ma’am, unless you would like to apply for a loan or get a credit card…”

Customer: “Fine! Give me a loan for f******* $4!”

Me: “Unfortunately, neither the loan nor the Visa would be approved today. Additionally, for loans originating in the branch, it’s a $99 fee, so you’ll probably want to reconsider coming back tomorrow.”

Customer: “THIS IS RIDICULOUS! YOU ARE AN AWFUL PERSON! HOW DO YOU LIVE WITH YOURSELF EVERYDAY?! IT’S PEOPLE LIKE YOU AND PLACES LIKE THIS BANK THAT’RE RUINING OUR SOCIETY! ALL I F******* WANT IS FOUR F******* DOLLARS AND YOU WON’T GIVE IT TO ME!”

(Customer #2, the one who was interrupted earlier, runs up, slams down a $5 bill, then runs to her car.)

Customer: *looking surprised, tries to catch the other woman before running back and jabbing her finger in my face* “You see THAT?! That’s a good person! Not like YOU!

(The customer leaves and I am left in utter shock at the entire situation. My coworker walks over to me.)

Coworker: “You know, you’re going to turn on the TV next week and find yourself on that show ‘What Would You Do’ or whatever it is.”

Me: “Yeah, maybe…”

Supervisor: “It’s Friday. Her social security won’t be in until Sunday night, at the earliest.”

(And that was when I knew I needed to get out of retail banking.)

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The Bill Of Wrongs

, , , , , , | Right | September 13, 2017

(We’re a small 60 seat cafe with extremely high turnover; from eight am until midday we can seat and serve 300 guests.)

Customer: “Hi, I’ve got a booking for [Name].”

Me: “Right, your party of 17 is right over here.”

Customer: “Oh, what about the kids?”

Me: “Kids?”

Customer: “Yes, we booked for 17 adults, but we’ve got our kids. You’re going to need to find some seats.”

Me: “How many?”

Customer: “There will be 42 of us.”

Me: “Dude, that’s half the restaurant. We have bookings all day; if there are 42 of you, we can’t accommodate you.”

Customer: “That’s okay, the kids can just play and sit on their parents laps.”

Me: “Sure, fine, your table is right here.”

(This party trashes the cafe; the bathroom looks like a rugby team has been practicing in there. There is food from one end of the place to the other. The kids have drawn on the walls behind their parents’ table. Disaster. We lose 200 customers on this day, and we’re looking at a five-figure black hole of turnover, plus the repair bill. The worst part happens after they’ve finished.)

Customer: “Okay, so I had two poached eggs, toast, bacon, and two flat whites. Can you split that out of the bill please?”

(At this stage the bill is in four-digit territory, and I want these people out.)

Me: “Sorry, sir, we don’t split bills; here’s a calculator and a copy of your receipt.”

(The bill is 1.5 meters long.)

Customer: “Oh, no, we’re all going to pay separately. Otherwise, we’ll just leave; this is terrible service.”

Me: “You’re welcome to leave, sir. I’ll call the police now, and have them come down and arrest your party for theft of service, and vandalism for what your kids have done to my venue.”

Customer: “Maybe we’ll just pay.”

Me: “Thank you, sir.”

(It took this mob another 20 minutes of yelling and fighting with each other to sort out the bill. They tried to give it to me four times; each time it was short and got sent back. No tip. No apology.)

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Mismanaged Your Time

, , , , , | Working | September 13, 2017

(One summer, I do an internship at a popular independent radio station. We have gotten an interview with the lead singer of a reasonably popular British rock band. However, the band’s manager is a bit of a pain to deal with, and has a tonne of demands in regards to content that he is always changing. The DJ tells me this is the norm in this business, but this guy is just obnoxious. Each time he calls, he acts like he is doing us the world’s biggest favour. Not long before the interview, he calls the umpteenth time.)

Band Manager: “Now, listen here. [Singer] has a VERY busy day today, and you cannot keep him on the line a minute longer than necessary. Got it?”

Me: “Oh, yes, there’s nothing to worry about. [DJ] should be done in under 15 minutes.”

Band Manager: “There are to be no personal question about him or the band; is that clear?! He isn’t here to answer silly questions”

Me: “Don’t worry; we have a bunch of questions about the new album coming out, and that’s all we’re concerned with.”

Band Manager: “Make sure you do.”

(With that, he just hangs up. The interview goes very well, and the singer seems pleased with the questions the DJ asks about the new album.)

DJ: “Thanks so much for joining us, [Singer]; I hear today’s a busy one for you.”

Singer: “Oh, not really. I’ve been just chilling and playing [Video Game] today. I’ll probably stroll down to [Bakery] in a bit. Easy day.” *chuckles*

(The DJ and I were both fighting hard not laugh at this point, since this guy basically revealed his manager was lying. We could imagine the embarrassed look on the manager’s face when he said that. That was the only time we had this band on our show; we think the manager was too embarrassed after that one.)

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You’re Painting Yourself Into A Corner

, , , , | Right | September 12, 2017

(Sometimes a can of paint is mixed incorrectly, thus creating the wrong color. When this happens, the gallon or quart is marked down to a lower price, significantly less than the original price, and labelled as a mis-tint.)

Customer: *walks to register with quart of mis-tint paint* “I have to tell you…”

Me: “Okay…”

Customer: “I don’t need all this paint. I just need a little bit of it. Like, only a small amount.”

Me: “Okay…”

Customer: “…so, can you open this and just give me that much?”

Me: “Um… No. I can’t open a fresh quart of paint and remove a portion of the contents.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t need the whole thing!”

Me: “Well, I can’t take some out then put it back on the shelf.”

Customer: “Fine. Then just charge me for how much I’m going to use.”

Me: “So, you want me to charge you for ONLY the amount you’re going to use, but GIVE you the entire quart?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Then take out what I need.”

Me: “Why don’t you buy the entire quart? It’s only $5.00 when it used to be $22.00. That’s a great buy.”

Customer: “Because! I don’t need the entire thing!”

Me: “This is a mis-tint, it’s marked down to less than half the cost.”

Customer: “No! It’s not a mis-tint! The person in your paint department is an a**-hole and doesn’t know how to mix paint.”

Me: “I’ll be sure to let him know that.”
Customer: “Y’know what? Forget it. I don’t want it.” *buys only a soda then leaves*

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The Sauce Of All Your Complaining

, , , , | Right | September 11, 2017

(I work at a fried chicken restaurant during my holidays. The owner is my aunt, so I go there to help out whenever I can. We have a particular item that’s those drink and snack combos where there’s a drink in a cup and a small bowl of fried chicken on top. There is a kind of sweet-chili sauce drizzled on top. There’s a clear picture of it on our menu, and you can clearly see what the product is about. One particular day, a customer orders that product.)

Me: “Good afternoon, ma’am! What can I get you today?”

Customer: *points at the picture on our menu*

Me: “Okay, that will be the [item]. What drink would you like to go with it?”

Customer: “[Beverage]. And I would like [other item] and [other item] as well.”

Me: “Okay, that will be [price].”

(The food is served, and I am tidying the counter when the woman storms up to me.)

Customer: “Excuse me?! I did not want chili sauce on this, please change it.”

Me: *shocked as this has never happened before* “Sorry, ma’am, but we are unable to change it for you, as you did not tell me beforehand that you did not want the sauce on it. The menu clearly states that there will be chili sauce on it, so we assumed you wanted it.”

Customer: “That’s ridiculous! I don’t care; I want an exchange.”

(Since I do not know how to deal with this, I go and ask my aunt if it can be exchanged. Since, as I said, we have never encountered such situations before, my aunt gives me a sort of incredulous and helpless smile when I tell her about the situation. Sort of the kind where you are like, “Oh man, what are we going to do?”)

Aunt: *to customer* “Sorry ma’am, but we are unable to—”

Customer: “Do you find this funny?!”

Aunt: “What—”

Customer: “You were laughing at me. Do you find this situation funny to you?!”

(My aunt might have given the helpless smile, but it most definitely wasn’t laughing.)

Aunt: “Sorry for the confusion, but I was not laughing at you, merely smiling because we have never encountered such a situation before—”

Customer: “So, you think it’s funny? What if I had a chili sauce allergy? Are you going to take responsibility for this?”

Me: “Ma’am, it is clearly stated here what the product contains. You will be served that particular product, as it is shown, unless you request special arrangements. It is not our fault, and we are not obliged to exchange it for yo—”

Customer: “This is f****** ridiculous. I’m going to complain. Complain that you are not giving me an exchange. I’ll probably die eating this, and you are all going to have this on your conscience. And you find this funny?!”

Me: “Look, ma’am—”

(At this point, my aunt stopped me and offered the unreasonable customer an exchange. The customer continued to complain and spew profanities for the remaining time she was eating in our restaurant. The kicker? She was also eating some other chicken set that had the exact same sauce that was on the product she made such a fuss over!)

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