One of my younger coworkers is in sales. He’s a decent guy but has a massive ego, to the point of being delusional. He has just “landed a massive sale for the company.” I know that the senior guy did all the work and [Junior Sales Guy] just got the signature to something they already agreed to.

[Junior Sales Guy] wants to throw this big party that night. Because it’s a Wednesday, no one wants to go, so he starts offering free drinks, etc. I get guilt-tripped into going, so I plan to have a drink then sneak off.

I turn up about half an hour late and find a couple of the guys from work, but not [Junior Sales Guy]. I stick around for an hour, but with work the next day and the star of the show not being there, we all head home.

The next morning, the senior sales guy comes around, looking frantic.

Senior Sales: “Has anyone seen [Junior Sales Guy]?”

Coworker: “No, I hear he was out last night.”

Me: “I hope he’s all right; he never made it to the pub.”

Coworker: *Laughs* “You didn’t hear? He was already so drunk he couldn’t get in! He went off to some house party.”

Senior Sales: *Swearing* “That idiot. I let him do a bit of customer work and it goes straight to his head. He knows we have a meeting with [Client]. I need those files!”

A few loud phone calls and about an hour later, a taxi pulled up, and [Junior Sales Guy] staggered out looking sorry for himself. He managed to get the documents needed, and by the noise coming from the office, the chip on his shoulder was firmly addressed.

I work in a call centre on the social media team for a furniture company that also sells other items in its stores, such as plates. We get some pretty ridiculous stuff through sometimes, but this is the one that I remember the most.

Customer: “I have one of your plates; it broke.”

I give my standard greeting.

Me: “Can I have a photo of the plate and a photo of your receipt so I can look into this?”

The customer sends the photos.

Me: “Hey, [Manager], can you take a look at this?”

The photo shows a blue plate with a black patch and a massive crack. This isn’t something that has happened on its own. I go back to the customer. 

Me: “Hi, [Customer], can I please ask how the plate broke?”

Customer: “I was using it to put coal on.”

Me: *Internally* “Um… coal… It’s a plate. You seriously thought that would be a good idea?”

Customer: “Also, when the plate cracked, it burned my sofa, so I’ll need you to reimburse me for the sofa.”

The customer sends us photos of the sofa.

We then have a long, drawn-out conversation about how the plate isn’t FOR coal, so we won’t be paying her because she did something like this. She is basically arguing that we don’t specifically state not to put coal on the plates. I explain that this particular plate — as per the package — can only withstand about 50°C (122°F) heat and coal is WAY hotter than that when smouldering.

She doesn’t respond for a couple of days so I figure it is done with. But then I go into the office and a member of the team that deals with letters speaks to me. 

Employee: “Do you have anything from [Customer]?”

Me: “Yeah, but please don’t give her anything; it was misuse.”

They ended up sending her a £150 gift card.

I am with my boyfriend at a chain restaurant where you make your order at the till and pay up front. My boyfriend always orders the same thing and I have gone up to put in our usual order.

When our food arrives, my meal is correct but my boyfriend’s is not. I check my receipt and realise that they have taken my order wrong; they have given us a new meal on their menu I’m not familiar with. I figure that I should have checked my order at the till, and even small arguments really stress me out, so I really don’t want to make a fuss. I turn to the server who took my order as he walks by our table.

Me: “Hi, sorry, I asked for the [correct meal] but you must have misheard me because I realise is on the receipt… but I should have checked it at the time, so I’ll pay for it. Can I please come up and order [correct meal]?”

Server: “No, this is the one you asked for.”

Me: “Um… no… I actually didn’t even know that this was on the menu, but I get that it’s loud in here so I understand that you probably didn’t hear me properly.”

Server: “You asked for .”

I am getting stressed already because I’m not sure why he’s arguing with me when this was specifically what I was trying to avoid.

Me: “No, look, I’ll pay for the order. It was my fault for not checking the receipt; I just want to order the correct meal.”

Server: “This is the one you ordered.”

I’m freaking out slightly because I don’t understand how else to explain myself, or why this guy won’t let me get my boyfriend’s food. My boyfriend seems as much at a loss as I am, so I decide to just ignore this guy and go and try to order from another server, although he is standing directly in my way to the tills. I stand up.

Me: *Voice raised and kind of squeaky from stress* “Look, I just want to go and order the right meal!”

The server is suddenly in de-escalation mode, relaxing his posture and smiling at me, speaking in a calming voice.

Server: “Whoa, whoa, caaaaalm down. No need to make a scene! I’ll go get [correct meal] for you. It’s all right, it’s all right.”

The manager came over a few minutes later to check that everything was okay and they ended up not charging us for the wrong meal, but years later I still think about this often, partially because I’m embarrassed at my own inability to deal with the slightest hint of conflict, but also because I’m baffled as to how that guy not only misheard my order, but apparently also misheard me explaining several times that I was prepared to accept the fault for it and pay for the replacement meal.

I keep an old pay-as-you-go mobile phone at home which I use to maintain a social media tool and for banking, because my bank, like most, sells telephone numbers to marketing lists for profit because they’re scum. Nobody that I care for uses that number, so I know that whenever it rings, the caller is a salesperson or a scammer.

My phone rings and, out of boredom, I pick up and answer in a very frail, old person’s voice.

Me: “Helloooooo… [Fake First and Surname] speaking.”

Scammer: “Good day, Mr. [Fake Surname], this is John Smith from the Internal Revenue Service. Were you aware that you have a significant amount of unpaid taxes?”

Me: “Pardon me… Who did you want to talk to? I’m not sure that they’re here.”

Scammer: “I wanted to talk to you, Mr. [Fake Surname], about your unpaid taxes. Now, really, sir, you need to sort this out or you could go to prison! You’re in very serious trouble.”

Me: “Oh, no, no… There’s—” *shifty voice* “—no Mr. [Fake Surname] here. You must have the wrong number.”

Scammer: “Sir, you answered the phone with your name. This is childish; you are definitely you. Now, this is a serious matter and you need to address it.”

Me: *In a harsh voice* “Well, you got me, you b*****d. You found me out! Well, you’ll never take me alive! COME GET ME, YOU PIGS! COME GET ME! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEEEEEEEEEEEEDOMMMMM!”

Scammer: “Sir, sir, stop shouting at me! We’re coming to get you! You’re going to jail! This call is being recorded and will be used as evidence against you! NOW, BEHAVE AND SETTLE YOUR ACCOUNTS, OR ELSE!”

Me: “I’m armed! I AM ARMED AND DANGEROUS! YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!!!”

This goes on for a while until, finally, the scammer hangs up. With a raw throat, I put down the phone with a happy sigh, only to hear a wheezing noise behind me.

Wife: “What the actual f*** was that about?”

The scammer never called back. Not that it matters. I’m not allowed to answer the phone anymore.

This story is part of our Best Of March 2021 roundup!

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My company booked a hotel room for a work convention I have to attend. I get lucky and it is a pretty nice place, better than I would normally book myself. Unfortunately, it is one mess-up after the next: missing booking, wrong room, room unclean, and delay after delay. Eventually, I have to leave the hotel just to get away from sitting in the lobby for the hour it is taking to get the room sorted and the billing confirmed.

I do eventually get my room; after all that, it isn’t even that clean. I end up cleaning the bathroom and picking up litter in the room. I see that they have put a bunch of flowers on the bed, clearly as an apology, but at this point it feels like an empty gesture. As a man in his thirties traveling on his own, and with severe hay fever, I don’t really want or need them. They eventually end up in the bin so I can sleep. 

The issues carry on through my stay, despite many attempts to resolve them. I have a terrible stay. After a few days, the convention is over and I am keen to get away. I drop my keys off and check that the bill is okay.

I see the same receptionist I have dealt with many times on this visit.

Receptionist: “Okay, so room 304. Oh, I see.”

Me: “Is there a problem?”

Receptionist: “I have a note that there was a problem with your room cleanliness. Did this get resolved to your satisfaction?”

Me: “Yeah, it was okay, I guess.”

Receptionist: “It’s just that I see housekeeping delivered some flowers to your room, and they were a little… surprised to see them just… thrown away.”

Me: “Do I look like a guy who wants flowers?”

Receptionist: “Well, no, but still—”

Me: “What was I supposed to do with them, exactly? There was no vase, and I have a three-hour drive home.”

Receptionist: “But still, the housekeeping felt—”

Me: “I’m sorry, but no one was concerned about the many mistakes with my room service, the missing toiletries that I had to end up buying myself, the AC that didn’t work, or the repeated noise I complained about. But some flowers get put in the bin and that’s a priority?”

Receptionist: “Well, no, but—”

Me: “Are we finished here?”

Receptionist: “Would you like to sign up for our rewards program?”

Me: “No, thank you. I don’t think I will be back.”

I told my company to remove the hotel from the list, which they did. I still cannot believe a hotel that expensive was so backward in customer support.