(A customer enters the flower shop with roses in his hands.)
Customer: “Hi. Can you make me a floral arrangement? I already bought the roses.”
Me: “Yes. It is going to cost $20.”
Customer: “Wait! Do I have to pay you?!”
(I work in a flower delivery company call center, in customer service. We take orders and send them out to local floral shops all over the country. I’m working in ‘order modification.’)
Me: “Thank you for calling. This is [My Name] speaking. Can I start by getting your name?”
Customer: “My name? Why do you need that?”
Me: “I need to identify who is calling and how to address you, but that’s okay. Can I have your recipient’s name?”
Customer: “Recipipant? What’s a recipipant?”
Me: “Well, ma’am, the RECIPIENT is who is getting the flowers. May I have their name?”
Customer: “Well… I don’t know what a recipient is but the delivery getter’s name is [Recipient]. I need you to change my order. I need you to change my name to spell it the correct way.”
Me: “Ma’am, I was able to find your order by the recipient’s name. I can change your spelling of your name for you. Can you tell me the correct spelling?”
Customer: “No. I will not tell you. You have no right to ask me things this personal. You can fix it yourself. Goodbye.” *hangs up*
Supervisor: “I didn’t know you were so intrusive and psychic. How do you get all the crazies?”
(A man has been visiting my flower shop every day for the past few weeks, and buying random flowers each time. I catch on quickly and start to flirt with him, but he is very shy and becomes quickly flustered. One day he comes in as usual, and we chat for a while.)
Me: *playfully* “Now, are you going to buy any flowers or do I have to kick you out to make room for real customers?”
Man: “Oh! Uh…”
(He turns red and looks around at the flowers. I pick out a couple of peonies.)
Me: “Here, buy these. You can give them to me when you pick me up for dinner tonight, around 6:30?”
Man: “O-Okay.”
(This year is our 20th wedding anniversary and our daughter just turned 17. Of course, there is always a vase of peonies in our home!)
(A very dapper customer dressed in a black three piece suit comes in, looking for a rose for his girlfriend. I show him a large, beautiful red rose.)
Me: “This one will last the longest.”
Customer: “That doesn’t matter much. She keeps them until they’re dead.”
Me: “Oh, well this one will look the prettiest for the longest.”
Customer: “No, I mean she wants them to die. She likes dead roses and decorates the house with them.”
Me: “…oh.”
(As we don’t sell dead flowers, he buys a rose and leaves. My coworker and I sing the Addams Family theme for the rest of the day.)
(Note: I am around six or seven years old, and I’m examining a rack of flowers for a bouquet for Mother’s Day. I need around fourteen dollars for the cheapest one.)
Me: “$9.00… $9.50… $9.75…”
(Another gentleman looking at flowers notices me.)
Gentleman: “Do you have enough?”
Me: “I’m not sure… is this enough?”
(I hand him my money, and he smiles, adding a few coins while I’m not looking.)
Gentleman: “It is now! You pick a nice one for your mum.”
(I thank him for ‘counting’ my money and pick a bouquet, then go up to the counter to pay.)
Cashier: “Alright sweetie, that’ll be [amount].”
Me: *hands her my change*
Cashier: “I’m sorry, but this isn’t quite enough. You’re a dollar off.”
Me: “Oh… I’m sorry.”
(As I start to leave, the cashier calls me back.)
Cashier: “Wait! Come back here, little lady!
(She pulls out a twenty from her pocket, pays for the flowers, and hands me back all my money.)
Cashier: “I think you’ve got it now. Here’s your change! Now, you wait here for a couple minutes. Once I’m done with the gentleman behind you, I’ll help you write out a nice card for your mum and we’ll wrap these flowers for you so she doesn’t see, okay?”
(My mum loved her flowers, and when I told her what happened she promptly went back and bought an expensive bouquet and some chocolates for the cashier that had helped me! Unfortunately we never saw the gentleman again to thank him.)
(Editor’s note: Not Always Related wishes you a Happy Mother’s Day!)
