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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A Model Piece Of Motivation

, , | Right | September 11, 2017

(A model and actress has designed a line of clothing for our store and, as such, there are posters of her around the store, including one very big one of her in her underwear near the lingerie aisle. I’m in the food hall, nowhere near this poster, when an older man approaches me.)

Customer: *with a slightly creepy smile* “Hello.”

Me: “Hello.” *pause* “Can I help you at all?”

Customer: “Yes. You have a big poster of a lady over in your clothing section. I’d like to buy it.”

Me: “Um, I’m not sure if that’s possible. I can check?”

Customer: “Please.”

(I call the manager and explain the situation. She comes down and deals with the customer while I resume my job. Afterwards, the man walks off, and the manager heads to the lift area where she bursts out laughing.)

Me: “So, what did you say?”

Manager: “He offered me £20 for it. I said it would be up for a couple of months and he gave me his number and told me to text him so he could come in.”

Me: “What did he want it for, or do I not want to know?”

Manager: “He runs a gym, and wanted to put it on the wall to ‘motivate’ his clients…”

(The funniest thing? Another man came in later the same day, also wanting to buy the poster! He was told it had already been “sold”…)

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Having A Grande Old Time

, , , | Right | September 11, 2017

Me: “Thank you for choosing your local [coffee shop]. What can I get started for you?”

Customer: *yelling* A grande vanilla latte!”

Me: “Okay, a grande van—”

Customer: *angrily* “I’m not done! I want that absolutely no foam, and with whipped cream!”

Me: “All righty, a gran—”

Customer: “I am not done! It has to have three honeys in it, with cinnamon and nutmeg!”

Me: “Would you like that sprinkled on top, or steamed into the milk?”

Customer: “On top! Steamed in is disgusting!”

Me: “You got it. A grande vanilla latte, with three honeys—”

Customer: *condescendingly* “I said, NO FOAM!”

Me: “Ma’am, I am repeating your entire drink order back to you to ensure that it is correct, and I was not finished. You have ordered a grande vanilla latte, with three honeys, no foam, with whipped cream, and cinnamon and nutmeg on top. Is that correct?”

Customer: “Yes!”

Me: “Perfect. Is there anything else I can get you?”

Customer: “A venti peach citrus infusion with no ice!”

Me: “Did you want—”

Customer: “Make sure there’s no ice! I’m not drinking it now!”

Me: “Did you want that sweet, or unsweet?”

Customer: “Sweet! It’s not worth drinking if it isn’t!”

Me: “Absolutely. Is there anything else I can get for you tonight?”

Customer: “No!”

Me: “Fantastic, we’ll see you at the window with your total.”

Customer: “Repeat my drinks again!” *haughtily* “I don’t think you got them right!”

Me: “It’ll be [total], around the corner!”

(She keeps demanding her drinks repeated, but my baristas and I ignore her. Finally, she pulls up to the window.)

Customer: “You need to remake my drinks! You wouldn’t repeat them, and you have them wrong!”

Me: “I have a grande vanilla latte, three honeys, absolutely no foam, with whip, cinnamon and nutmeg sprinkled on top, and a venti peach citrus infusion, sweetened, but with no ice, because you aren’t drinking it now. Are these the correct drinks?”

Customer: “That’s what I ordered, isn’t it?”

Me: “Then it will be [total].”

(She grumbles, pays, and receives her drinks.)

Customer: “This can’t be mine! There are no stickers!”

Me: “I made them as you ordered them, ma’am, before the stickers were printed. I hope you enjoy your drinks, and have a lovely evening.”

Customer: “I want to speak to your manager! You have been rude, and you made my drinks wrong!”

Me: *smiling sweetly, as my patience has finally paid off* “Ma’am, I AM the manager.”

(She goes completely white, and speeds away. Five minutes later, I get handed the phone by one of my baristas.)

Me: “This is [Name], how may I help you?”

Familiar Voice: “You’re the manager?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am?”

Customer: “You have a horrific barista in your drive through, claiming to be you! She was so rude! She kept interrupting, and she made my drinks wrong, and I want a refund and an apology!”

Me: “Did you have the grande vanilla latte, with three honeys, absolutely no foam, with whipped cream, cinnamon and nutmeg on top, with a venti peach citrus, sweetened, with no ice, because you aren’t drinking it now?”

Customer: *somehow still oblivious* “Yes! So, she told you about me! I want her fired for gossiping about customers!”

Me: “Actually, ma’am, that was me in the drive through, and I am the one who made your drinks to your exact specifications.”

Customer: “I asked for the manager, not the rude b**** in the drive through!”

Me: “Ma’am, that ‘rude b****’ is still me, and I am still the manager. Given that you have now escalated to verbal abuse, I will be putting in a report to corporate, and I am terminating this call.”

Customer: *starts screaming unintelligibly*

Me: *click*

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