(I am trying to pull out of a side road into the main road. It always takes a while to pull out here and I am getting frustrated. I have a friend in the car and am venting to her. My window is open as it is both warm and sunny — very unusual for Ireland.)

Me: *as a blue car comes from the right* “Maybe after this blue guy. Oh, here’s a red guy, and a black guy. Maybe after this red guy. Oh, no, here comes another black guy.”

Me: “…”

Me: “I hope that actual black guy walking towards us didn’t hear that.”

(I work at an airline.)

Caller: “How much to fly return with you to Bangladesh in two weeks?”

Me: *checking* “I see that neither we, nor our partner airlines, travel there, but [other airlines] do. I can provide you with their contact numbers—“

Caller: “What I asked you was, ‘How much will you charge me for a return ticket to travel there?’ I didn’t ask for you to fob me off onto someone else. Answer my question, please.”

Me: “Sorry about that. On what date do you intend to travel there, when would you intend to return, and in what class would you prefer to travel?”

(He gives the details; the price is around €4,000 in economy class before the various taxes and charges, which is the maximum allowed by law and the only fare that head office has programmed into our system. I wince in anticipation of his reaction to the news.)

Caller: “What? Why is it so insanely expensive?”

Me: “It’s the highest price in economy class for that route and time that’s allowed by law. [My Airline] doesn’t offer any discounts or reductions to travel on other airlines that aren’t our partners, much less to destinations where we don’t go. If you were to contact the airlines that do fly there, they’d probably have prices closer to what you were expecting, since they compete for passengers on that route.”

Caller: “That’s ridiculous! You should be ashamed of yourselves for charging such a rate. It’s no way to do business!”

Me: “I don’t claim that it is good, sir, merely that it is so. Shall I get those other airlines’ numbers for you?”

Caller: *frustrated growl or snarl, followed by a click as he hangs up*

(I’m working at the till in a bookies. Customers write bets on paper with carbon copy and we stamp them in the till when they pay. We keep the original and they keep the copy. After each race, the manager marks up the winners and files them so the counter staff can find them when the customer brings up the winning docket. We have computers to check all results and odds, etc. One of our regulars is a complete gambling addict and is constantly trying to scam us. She bets on the dog races every morning. For this type of race, people typically bet on the trap number rather than the dog name; a bet that just says “three €2” is a perfectly valid bet for €2 on the dog in trap three winning the next race after the till timestamp. This customer keeps all her old dockets, and if trap three wins in a different race later on, she will try to pass it off as a winning docket, so we have to double-check everything she does. One day she decides to try a new scam. She hands me docket for trap number five. I look through the winning dockets; it’s not there. I call up the results.)

Me: “This isn’t a winner.”

Customer: “It is; number three.”

Me: “This says number five.”

Customer: *shouting* “It’s number three.”

Me: “That’s number five.”

(By this stage the manager has found her original docket and brings it over. It clearly says “five.” The manager holds the docket up to the glass.)

Manager: “What does that say? What does it say?”

Customer: “That’s how I write my threes!”

Manager: “Get out; you’re barred!”

(I work in a call centre that’s open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. We’ve just experienced a huge snow storm, which is completely out of the ordinary for Ireland, and the call centre had to close for two days. When we reopen, it is incredibly busy, and customers are furious at how long it is taking to get through. Then, I get this lady.)

Me: “Hello, you’re through to customer services. This is [My Name] speaking. Apologies for the long wait, and thank you for holding. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Hi! How are you?”

Me: “I’m good, thank you. How are you?”

Customer: “Oh, don’t worry about me. You’re obviously very busy today.”

Me: “Yes, I do apologise about that. We’re just experiencing a backlog after being closed because of the snow. I can log a complaint for you, if you wish?”

Customer: “Oh no, no, no. I used to work in a call centre myself. Tell me, what’s your target handling time for calls?”

Me: *confused* “Um, five minutes?”

Customer: “Okay, so I’ve been speaking to you for just under a minute. That means I can continue to talk to you for four minutes without ruining your stats.”

Me: “Okay. And what can I help you with today?”

Customer: “Oh, nothing at all. I just know how awful the customers must be treating you today, so I wanted to ring and have a friendly chat so your day isn’t all bad. I’m ringing the call centres of any suppliers I use and doing the same thing. You shouldn’t be shouted at all day because it snowed.”

(She genuinely had no query, and just filled the next few minutes with idle chit-chat. She just wanted at least one person to get a nice call on what was an otherwise awful day. We were so busy that she must have waited nearly an hour just to be nice to someone for five minutes!)

(I’m midway through my pregnancy and have been putting off getting the whooping cough vaccine, so I call my doctor to schedule an appointment.)

Me: “Hi. I was wondering if I could book an appointment for the whooping cough vaccination?”

Receptionist: “What’s your name and date of birth?”

Me: “That’s [My Name] and [date].”

Receptionist: “It says here you’re 22 weeks.”

Me: “Yep.”

Receptionist: “Then, no, you can’t have an appointment.”

Me: “Um, right. Is there any reason why not?”

Receptionist: “The vaccine is only available from 26 weeks.”

Me: “Oh, right. I thought [Doctor] said I could get it from 16 weeks. I must have misheard. It’s okay, though, I can wait another four weeks.”

Receptionist: “Let me check with the doctor. Hold the line.”

(Pause.)

Receptionist: *sarcastically* “Well, I guess the doctor just knows more than me, huh? Clearly I’m just a receptionist, so I wouldn’t know anything. Apparently you can get it from 16 weeks.”

Me: “So, can I book an appointment?”

Receptionist: “At 11 on Monday.”

Me: “That’s perfect. Thank you.”

Receptionist: “The vaccine isn’t free, you know.”

(Most health care is free while pregnant in Ireland, but things like vaccines aren’t.)

Me: “Yep, that’s fine. I have no issue paying.”

Receptionist: “Good, because you have to pay. You’re not getting it free.”

Me: “I know.”

Receptionist: “Because it’s not free. You have to pay.”

Me: *Pause* “Is there anything else you need from me?”

Receptionist: “No, but when you come in for the appointment you have to pay.”

Me: “Okay, bye now.”