The Menu Has Mushroom For Improvement

, , , , , | Right | July 17, 2018

(I am a duty manager at a five-hotel near Soho, helping at the bar and restaurant when needed. I see a table has finished their main course.)

Me: “How was your meal?”

Guest #1: “Excellent.”

Guest #2: “I didn’t like my dish.”

Me: “Aw, really sorry about that. What was wrong? Would you like something else?”

Guest #2: “It tasted too much of rice and mushrooms.”

Guest #1: “You should have thought of that before ordering the wild mushrooms risotto.”

Me: “Um… Dessert?”


Strolling Through The Poison

, , , | Right | July 17, 2018

(I work at the local hardware store in the garden department. It is during one of our spring sales events where some of our weed killers are on sale, when a customer walks up pushing a stroller with a rather young child.)

Me: “Hi, how are you doing? Can I help you find something?”

(I am near the fertilizer and weed killer aisle, which really stinks.)

Customer: “I don’t want to expose my kid to that stuff, so can you tell me where your five-dollar [Pesticide] is?”

(I nod understandingly and show her where it is.)

Me: “You realize that this stuff is highly toxic, and you can’t have your kid or pets on the area for a minimum of three hours?”

Customer: “I’ll take four gallons.”

(She then grabs a box of four, put it in the bottom of her stroller and walks away.)

Not The Ingredients For Success

, , , , , | Right | July 17, 2018

(I am working the lunch shift at a small bakery and cafe that also serves some different types of salads. The salads are displayed in bowls on the counter, but they don’t have signs. A middle-aged lady approaches the counter.)

Customer: “What is this salad?”

Me: “This one is chicken, corn, and kale, and next to it we have a kale with grana cheese and red onion.”

(I proceed to tell her about the rest of the salads. I understand that first-timers can be confused by our lack of signage, and I have no problem running through the descriptions for them.)

Customer: *staring intently at the two kale salads* “So… What’s the difference between them?”

Me: “Uh…”

Customer: “Is the difference just the ingredients?”

Me: *polite, deadpan customer service voice* “Yes, ma’am, the difference is the ingredients.”

Need Proof That They Have A Brain

, , , | Right | July 16, 2018

(I work as a chat support agent. In order for me to see anything on an account, I need certain information from the customer, which they usually provide when starting the chat. On occasion I get someone who doesn’t provide it, and won’t provide it when asked, but this has to be the worst reason ever.)

Me: “Thank you for contacting chat support! How can I help you?”

Customer: “You guys double-billed me! I need you to fix this!”

Me: “All right, if you can give me your account information, I can pull it up to see what is going on.”

Customer: “I don’t have it.” *sends a screenshot* “Here’s proof. Fix it.”

(The screenshot is a single order confirmation, cropped so it doesn’t even list what the order was for, doesn’t show an order number, and is basically no help at all.)

Me: “I’ll need the information for the account so I can pull it up. I’m not able to see anything about this or make any changes on the account without it.”

Customer: “I’ve sent proof; now fix it!”

(This goes back and forth for a while. I’ve sent them instructions for finding the information multiple times, and explained that I can’t see anything and that the screenshot doesn’t help. Finally they let me know why they can’t get it.)

Customer: “I can’t do that; I’m driving to an appointment right now. I’ve provided proof, and I need you to fix this!”

Me: “…”

(She stopped responding shortly after. I like to think she realized how stupid it was to be typing and driving at the same time. Or maybe Darwin did his job.)

Going To Need Some Shots After This Screenshot

, , , , , | Working | July 16, 2018

(I provide IT support for a real estate company that covers a large part of the southeast of England. One day I am providing support for a colleague when the following happens.)

Me: “Can you let me know the error message you’re getting on the screen?”

(My colleague is unable to describe the error message.)

Me: “Okay, if you can send me a screenshot of the error, I think I know the problem.”

(My colleague sent me a screenshot that consisted of the following: a print screen of the error, pasted into Word so it was shrunk portrait, printed out, scanned, and saved as a .tif file. The file was then attached to an email and sent to me. The colleague is a lovely person but really struggles when it comes to common sense.)

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