Fix The Google! Fix All Of The Google!

, , , , | Right | December 6, 2018

(I am a scheduler at a busy medical clinic.)

Me: “Good afternoon. This is [My Name]. Thank you for calling [Clinic]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Is this [Doctor]’s office?”

Me: “Yes. Do you need to make an appointment?”

Caller: “How much are your light boxes?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Caller: “For light therapy! I Googled light boxes, and [Doctor]’s name came up!”

Me: “We’re a medical clinic. We don’t sell light boxes.”

Caller: “Do you know where I can get one?”

Me: “No.”

Caller: “Well, you need to fix Google, then!”

(I’m pretty sure the doctor in question isn’t even one known for light box therapy!)

Take That Comeback Straight To The Bank

, , , , , | Right | October 26, 2018

(I work at the service desk at a moderately-sized grocery chain. We offer many services, including check cashing and money orders. I have an older woman approach me asking for a money order. She hands me some fifties; our policy is that we need to check fifties and higher to make sure they’re not counterfeit. The woman doesn’t like this and gets very insecure.)

Customer: “I can’t believe you’re doing this! I just came here from the bank!”

Me: *as politely as possible* “Ma’am, it’s Sunday. The banks are closed.”

(Her face turned red and she was silent for the rest of the transaction. She had no reason to be insecure, either; all of her money was real. I printed her money order and she went on her way.)

Some Body Agrees

, , , , , | Right | April 9, 2018

(Our service desk is undergoing much needed renovations. One of the new things being built for us is a small closet to store extra cartons of cigarettes so we don’t have to run in back so often when we run out of a certain brand. The construction is very loud, and some of our customers are visibly upset, and I’m starting to get frustrated, too, since it’s making it difficult for me to communicate. After a while, a little old lady in her 80s approaches me.)

Customer: “Excuse me, miss. What are you building back there?”

Me: “I apologize about the noise; we’re building extra storage for cigarettes.”

Customer: “Oh, I thought you were building a place to hide all the bodies of the rude customers!”

Me: *laughs* “Oh, ma’am, I wish!”

Customer: *smiles* “Keep up the good work, [My Name]!”

(Her encouragement lifted my spirits for the rest of my shift despite the noise. It’s nice that some people can be understanding.)

Don’t Know What They’ve Been Eating On That Ranch

, , , , | Right | January 4, 2018

(A woman and her teenage daughter approach the order counter.)

Me: “Hello, what can I get for you today?”

Mother: “I’ll have the Caesar salad.” *to her daughter* “What will you have, honey?”

Daughter: “What’s on the Chicken Bacon Ranch?”

Me: “Um, chicken… bacon… and ranch?”

(The mother burst into laughter as her daughter turned bright red.)

Managed To Re-Coup Their Business

, , , , , | Right | January 4, 2018

(Almost every Sunday a large family comes into the mall to eat lunch together in the food court. Five of these people frequent our restaurant. They spend a lot of money and are decently behaved, but they are always demanding, and the old man among them always likes to reach into our container of potato chips with his bare hands. We have developed methods to deal with them and keep them out of things they shouldn’t be touching for sanitary reasons, so luckily the family has become less of a dreaded Sunday chore. I’m working the cash register for this particular visit.)

Me: “Hello, I see you’re having the full salad with soup today? Anything to drink?”

Old Man’s Middle Aged Son: “No, thank you. Could you punch these coupons for me, though?” *he hands me three punch coupons, all of them with a varying number of punches, and rattles off what the rest of his family is having*

Me: “I can certainly punch these for you once the order is complete, but I’m not supposed to punch them until everything is paid for.”

Old Man’s Middle Aged Son: “What? You expect me to walk all the way to my table, and then all the way back up here to get my coupons back? That’s just stupid!”

(The coupon policy is in place mostly because sometimes people’s cards won’t go through after we punch the card, so then we have to give the punch card back to them with a free punch, basically. I know the old man, who usually pays, has never had such a problem or pays with cash. As the supervisor on duty I could probably make the exception, but the son is rude so I decide to be difficult.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but that’s just our policy.”

(The son continues to act like a spoiled child despite his age, when one of the women in the group, presumable his mother based on her age, speaks up.)

Mother: “What is he angry about?”

Me: “I can’t punch his coupons until the order is complete and paid, so he’s angry with me because he has to walk back and get his coupons.”

Mother: “Oh, for cripes sake! [Son], we can bring your d*** coupons back to the table!”

(The son walks away in a huff as the rest of his family completes their order with no problems. The old man approaches the cash register, and after I’ve repeated the order to him he hands me money.)

Old Man: “You all did a very good job. I’m sorry he behaved that way.”

Me: “That’s okay. I hope he has a better day.”

(The man ended up giving us a $10 tip, and the family, minus their rude son, still came back every Sunday)

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