(I work in admin in the head office for a high street retailer, and am based in the reception area alongside our receptionist. Recently, the company has expanded slightly and hired a marketing executive; however, as she has no specific “department” to join, she has been allocated a desk in reception with us. The only downside is that due to the way our switchboard works, if both the receptionist and myself are on the phone, reception calls will go through to her phone. It is worth noting that she has never worked in a retail environment before. The receptionist and I are on calls when the marketing phone rings.)

Coworker: *answering phone hesitantly* “Hello, [Coworker] speaking. Sorry? Yes, sorry this is [Retailer]… I’m sorry, could you explain that again?”

(By this point both the receptionist and I have finished our calls and are gesturing to her to see if she needs assistance.)

Coworker: “I’m really sorry. I’m not sure I’m the best person to speak to; would you be okay if I transferred you to my colleague?” *listens for what seems like a lifetime to the caller’s explanation* “Oh… So would you like to speak to our accounts team?” *listens again* “Oh. Okay, well like I said, I can put you through to one of my colleagues who would be able to help.” *listens again– from where I am sat I can hear the caller raising their voice, but cannot make out what is being said* “Right, I understand, but I can’t help without putting you through to someone…. Okay, I’m sorry, too. Bye.”

(She hangs up and looks at us both nervously.)

Me: “Who was that?”

Coworker: “A customer who bought a suit from the [Scottish City] store. He wants a refund for it because it’s ripped at the seams, but he doesn’t want to return it. He didn’t want to be transferred to anyone because he didn’t want to be on hold, but I didn’t know what else I could do for him.”

Me: “Well, the [Scottish City] branch closed over a year ago.”

Receptionist: “And we don’t sell suits.”

Coworker: *looking really confused* “So… if the store never sold that item and isn’t even there anymore, why is he calling us for a refund?”

Receptionist: *snorts* “Welcome to retail, [Coworker]. Just wait for Christmas.”

Coworker: *excitedly* “Oh, I love Christmas!”

Me: “Not anymore, you won’t!”

(My friend used to work as a guard on trains before the UK’s railways were privatised. This story takes place at King’s Cross Station. Because the doors on old “slam-door” trains could be opened while the train was still moving, a passenger is getting off the train while it is still moving, and he inevitably trips and falls flat on his face.)

Passenger: “Ow! My f****** leg!”

Friend: “Are you all right, sir? You had a nasty fall there.”

Passenger: “Get away! Now I’ll be late for my dinner!”

Friend: “I’m sorry, sir, but you shouldn’t step onto the platform until the train has completely stopped. Now, would you like some help?”

Passenger: “NO! Go do your job and make some more people late, why don’t you? That’s all you and your f****** Thatcher-cronies do all day!”

Friend: “Calm down, sir. I’ll get some help.”

Passenger: “No, you f****** idiot, just go away!”

Friend: “I can’t just leave you here on the platform.”

Passenger: “Oh, Jesus, let me be.”

Other Passenger: “It’s your own bloody fault you broke your leg; you’re making all of us late now! Let the guard get back in the train so we can get to where we want to go!”

(The troublesome passenger limped to the nearest bench on the platform and sat down. My friend thanked the other passenger for sticking up for him soon after.)

(I work at a care home. It is my day off when I get a phone call from my manager:)

Manager: “You’re an hour and a half late for work.”

Me: “It’s my day off.”

Manager: “No, it’s not. We switched it with tomorrow. We changed it on the rota in the staff room; didn’t you look?”

Me: “I checked the rota before I left yesterday; it hadn’t changed.”

Manager: “No, we changed it. We changed the rota at nine pm yesterday. You should have known, and now we’ve not been able to cover some of your clients, so people are still in bed; you need to be here to get them up.”

Me: “I left at eight; why did no one ring me earlier if that’s the case?”

Manager: “Erm…” *long pause* “Say, do you think you could do us a huge favour and come into work right now? We’ll give you tomorrow off, instead.”

(I have been dropping my friend off at her house after school for the past few days. She normally walks, but because of the hot weather, I offered to pick her up since it’s on the way. Today, in school, she comes up to me.)

Friend: “Hey, [My Name]?”

Me: “Yeah?”

Friend: “I just wanted to thank you for dropping me off everyday. Your mom, too. Thank you guys so much!”

Me: “It’s no problem, really! Don’t worry about it.”

(I am from Delhi, in North India, and speak fluent Hindi like the rest of my family. My friend is Korean.)

Friend: “Can you teach me some Hindi?”

Me: *slightly taken aback* “Um, sure. But why?”

Friend: “How do you say, ‘Thank you very much’?”

Me: *gets it* “Oh! It’s, ‘bahut shukriya’.”

Friend: “Bahut shukriya?”

Me: “Yeah!”

(Later during the day:)

Friend: “Wait, [My Name]!”

Me: “Mmhm?”

Friend: “What was it again? Hobo shukriya?”

Me: *laughs* “What? No! It’s, ‘bahut shukriya’.”

Friend: “Oh, right!”

(In the car:)

Friend: *getting out* “Oh, [My Name]’s mom! By the way, buttock shukriya!”

(My mom was extremely confused while my friend beamed proudly at her AMAZING Hindi. I drop off another friend — my neighbor — as well, and she speaks fluent Hindi, too. We both laughed until we wheezed as we explained the situation to my bewildered mother. Soon we were all laughing and my friend apologised. Hey, at least she tried!)

(I am a teenager, working in a department store. One day I am on the shop floor with my mum, who has come to meet me on my lunch break. Due to a combination of the hot weather and having skipped breakfast, out of nowhere, I faint. My mum puts me in the recovery position and some of my colleagues start to come over to see if I’m okay. Amidst the commotion, a customer comes over, sees my uniform, and bends over to where I am LYING ON THE FLOOR.)

Customer: “Excuse me. What time do you close today?”

Me: *too woozy and shocked to think of another response* “4:30.”

(The customer walked off without even a thank-you.)

This story is part of the second Heatwave roundup!

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