Book This One Under Lost Cause

, , , , | Right | January 15, 2020

(I’m a library director in a small town. Our library collection is joined up with many other libraries in our area, and we will regularly send our books to other locations for people to pick up. One day, I get a call from another library; their patron has borrowed one of our books and claims she returned it, but it’s not marked “returned” in the system. The other library asks me to make sure it didn’t somehow end up back at our library without being scanned in. I check, but it’s definitely not there. I tell the other library to renew it and ask the patron to keep looking, because usually when patrons think they returned something they find it a few weeks later under the passenger seat or whatever. A little while later the patron calls me, very annoyed.)

Patron: “I need to speak to someone about [Book] and someone who can actually help!”

Me: *already annoyed with her huffy tone* “Well, ma’am, I can help. What seems to be the problem?”

Patron: “I returned [Book] weeks ago and it’s still on my account! The stupid people at my library say it’s not there, so I thought I would have you look for it.”

Me: *even more annoyed at the insult to my friends at the other library* “Well, ma’am, I actually spoke to the staff at your library earlier today, and we have both looked for it and have not been able to find it.”

Patron: “Well, it’s those darn computers! They don’t scan right!”

(I take a moment to try to figure out what that has to do with anything, no luck.)

Me: “The computers have nothing to do with it at this point, ma’am; the physical book can’t be found at either library.”

Patron: *scoffs* “Well, what happens now?”

Me: “I have asked your library to renew the book, so you won’t be charged any fines while we all continue to look for the book. I recommend you look around your home and your car one more time, just to be sure.”

Patron: “I’m not looking anymore; I returned it! There must be something else that can be done!”

Me: “Did you have a suggestion?”

Patron: “Take the book off my account!”

Me: “I can’t take the book off your account until someone finds it.”

Patron: “Well, it’s not here so I don’t know what you want me to do!”

Me: *done with this conversation* “Well, it’s not here, so I don’t know what you want me to do.”

(She hung up on me. No one’s found the book yet, so guess who got charged a lost book fee?)

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Karen Is Coming And She’s Bringing Friends

, , , , | Right | January 15, 2020

(One Sunday lunch, we are running with six servers on the floor, which is a bit sparse, but we are managing. At 11:30, a group makes a call-ahead for twenty people at noon. The manager pulls one of the food runners to take the party in the party room so that I won’t lose a chunk of the main floor. By the time all these folks are seated, it is actually a party of thirty. They do not call to update the number in advance. They just all keep showing up, so we keep expanding their tables. There are eighteen adults, twelve kids. Now, twenty people can easily be taken by one server. Thirty’s a stretch, but can be done if the guests are kind and patient. Spoiler alert: they weren’t.)

Soccer Mom: *suddenly and without warning approaches behind me at the hospitality desk* “Excuse me. You need to get us another server.”

Me: *as I am VERY obviously trying to check in three separate parties that have just walked in* “I’m very sorry, ma’am. If you’ll give me a moment to check these folks in, I’d be happy to fetch my manager.”

Soccer Mom: “One server’s just not cutting it.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I’m very sorry. I’ll have the manager to you as soon as I am able.”

Soccer Mom: “We were here first! All these people should have to wait so that we can have another server.”

Me: “I’m so very sorry, ma’am, but until I can fetch the manager for you, I’m afraid I’m not powerful enough to fix it.”

(The soccer mom stands behind me and taps her foot loudly as I continue trying to help the folks that have walked in and witnessed her tantrum. Time passes. My manager and the thirty-top’s server are at the hospitality desk and struggling to split all the checks, as there have been MANY complications with the party. The soccer mom storms up to the hospitality desk.)

Manager: “I’m sorry, ma’am. We’re still working to sort everything out. I’m so sorry.”

Soccer Mom: “Y’know, you keep saying that, and it doesn’t fix anything! I don’t care if you’re sorry. We’ve been here for two hours. Our kids are playing hide-and-seek in the bathrooms because you can’t expect children to sit for two hours, and we have twelve of them. You have five minutes to fix this.”

(I am thinking 1. Go step on a copper d4. 2. Two hours for an unexpected party of THIRTY is not at all unreasonable. 3. As a matter of fact, I CAN expect children to sit still for two hours. I’ve seen it done. Did it myself often when I was young. 4. Turns out, YOU are the adults of the group, and YOU should actually make an effort to control the twelve children you decided to bring out. 5. You told us twenty people. The fact that you don’t seem to understand why bringing an unannounced extra ten shows me that you’ve never had to work a job like this. If you HAD ever worked customer service, perhaps you wouldn’t be such a rampaging bint. Five minutes later:)

Soccer Mom: *standing in the entrance to the kitchen, WELL past where guests should be, phone alarm and light blaring, BELLOWING at the managers across the kitchen* “IT’S BEEN FIVE MINUTES!”

(Y’know… I’m so happy that I’m me and not her. I only had to tolerate her for two hours. She has to BE her for her whole life… and that’s gotta just suck.)

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It’s Lactose-Free, Too!

, , , , | Right | January 15, 2020

Customer: *approaches the bar* “Hey, can I get a gluten-free lemonade, please?”

Me: *unfortunately pretty used to this now* “Ma’am, I can personally guarantee you that our lemonade does not contain gluten.”

Customer: “Oh, thank goodness. Gluten is just everywhere these days!”

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Send Them Sarah Palin’s Autobiography And Be Done With It

, , , , | Right | January 15, 2020

(I work in a bookstore, and I swear people think people who work in said stores are like Google. Here is one example.)

Me: *answering the phone* “Thank you for calling [Store]; how can I help you?”

Customer: “Hi, I’m looking for a book by an author.”

Me: “Who is the author?”

Customer: “I don’t know. She’s from Alaska. Can you tell me?”

Me: “No… Uh, what books has she written?”

Customer: “I don’t remember.”

Me: “Um, is there anything else you can tell me?”

Customer: “She’s from Alaska. Don’t you know her?”

Me: *bangs head on desk*

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Short Fry

, , , | Right | January 14, 2020

(I have just ordered a meal at the speaker of a fast food restaurant and was told to drive up to the window. This particular drive-thru is one of those one-window deals. There is only one car in front of me and, from where I’m sitting, the driver looks unhappy. Even with my window down, I can only really catch some of the conversation, as the restaurant is right next to a very busy street. There is a lot of hand movement and finger-pointing from the driver, as well as her holding her bag out of the window and shaking it. Also, after the bag shaking, the driver puts the bag on the seat next to her and rummages in it for almost a minute, while the cashier tries to get her attention. Eventually, a small fry is handed through the window to the driver. She snatches it, yells something, and drives off. I pull up to the window.)

Me: “What was that all about?”

Cashier: *obviously frazzled* “She yelled at me that we shortchanged her on her fries!

Me: “What, you forgot an order?”

Cashier: “No, the number of fries in her large fry!”

Me: “Was she counting them?!”

Cashier: “Yes!”

(I start laughing and get my order, which happens to be a burger.)

Me: “Before I go, how many seeds are on this bun?”

Cashier: “Don’t you dare!”

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