Unfiltered Story #138445

, , | Unfiltered | January 29, 2019

(I am on the floor stocking, currently folding white/gray/black tank tops and making piles on the shelves. A woman with headphones in approaches the display. She looks at my piles, looks at me, looks at my unfolded stock, looks at the white tank top I am folding as we speak -)

Headphone Lady: Do you guys have any plain, white tank tops? I can’t seem to find any anywhere…

(She seemed so incredibly shocked when I showed her the display – Literally less than 5 inches away from where she was standing.)

It Just Got Personal (Items)

, , , , | Right | January 28, 2019

(I work customer service for a repo company, and often have to direct customers on how to come in to retrieve their personal items from inside their car after repossession.)

Me: “[Company], this is [My Name].”

Customer: “Yeah, y’all have my car and I need to get my stuff.”

Me: “Okay, can I have your name?”

Customer: “[Customer].”

Me: “Okay, it looks like your fee will be [fee], and we’re full today but can schedule you for an appointment any day this week between nine and three.”

Customer: “Are you kidding me? I have to work!”

Me: “Well, those are our times.” *reluctantly, but I want to be accommodating* “I might be able to come in on Saturday if you want to set an appointment then.”

Customer: “Yes!”

(I set the appointment for 10:00 am that Saturday and give her my cell number so she can call me, as the office phones turn off on weekends. She has some issue with learning we clean out the car ourselves, but I get off the phone with little problem. On Saturday, I come into work at 9:30 to wait for the customer. My boss is also there doing some extra work, and I’m glad not to be there by myself. I’m even gladder he’s there as 10:00 am comes and goes. It’s past 10:30 by the time I call the customer back.)

Customer: *sounding like she’s in the car* “Hello?”

Me: *relieved because I think she’s on her way* “Hello, Mrs. [Customer]? This is [My Name] from [Company]. We had an appointment this morning. Are you on your way?

Customer: “Uh, I’m not gonna be in town until like 3:00 or 4:00. I’ll just stop by then.

Me: “Ma’am… we made an appointment for 10:00 am.”

Customer: “Well, I live in [Town 20-30 minutes away] and I have things to do in [Adjacent Town], so I’ll just come in when I’m done.”

Me: “Ma’am. No one is going to be here. I came in this morning specifically for our appointment. I’m not going to be here all day.”

Customer: *suddenly yelling* “The f*** kind of towing company is this?! You need to be open 24 hours a day! I have things to do!”

(She begins ranting and raving at a high volume about my not being accommodating, the fees she has to pay, and that it’s illegal for us to touch her things when we repo her car. I’m unable to get a word in edgewise, and she’s been going on for several minutes and I’m in tears by the time my boss edges into my office and gestures for the phone.)

Boss: “Ma’am. Ma’am. Ma’am! Ma’am, my employee came in on her day off to try to accommodate your schedule. If you’re not here, you’ll have to get another appointment.”

(I can hear her yelling over the phone.)

Boss: “The state of Georgia requires us to remove personal items from a car the moment it enters our lot. If you’re not going to listen, then goodbye.” *he hangs up* “And that’s why I don’t work with people on weekends.”

(My boss and his wife were nice enough to take me for breakfast after I’d calmed down, and the woman’s number called my phone several times more that day. I finally answered at around 8:00 pm if only to tell her to stop calling, and it ended up being her sister on the line to apologize for her behavior! The woman ended up scheduling another time to get her stuff a week later, and she came and went without a fuss!)

Not Really Applying Themselves To The Application

, , , , , , | Working | January 25, 2019

Applicant: “Hey, do you guys have any job applications?”

Me: “Yeah, sure. Hold on.”

(I pull an application and a pen out from behind the concierge desk, and he takes it over to the corner and begins to fill it out. After a few minutes he calls me over.)

Applicant: “Hey, can you help me with this?”

Me: “I guess. What do you need?”

Applicant: “I’m trying to figure out what it’s asking me here.”

(He then points to the section of the application labeled “Employment History.”)

Me: “Seriously? They just want you to list down the previous places where you used to work.”

Applicant: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

(I then spend the next five minutes walking him through that section of the application, where to write down where his previous job was, how long he worked there, etc. Thankfully, it is a slow day, so I don’t have to worry about customers. When he finally finishes the application, I take it up to the manager’s office.)

Me: “I should warn you about this guy. He seems easily confused. He didn’t understand the employment history section, and I had to hold his hand through the whole thing.”

Manager: *looks at the application* “Oh, yeah. I remember this guy. I interviewed him a few months ago. Yeah, you’re right. He is easily confused.”

Me: “Wait… He’s filled this out before?!”

On A Staple Diet Of Disbelief And Entitlement

, , , , | Learning | January 24, 2019

(This is my first week working at an office on campus at a well-known university. Students frequently come in and ask to use our stapler, but we are told not to let them borrow it.)

Student: “Hey do you guys have a stapler I can borrow?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t, but if you go downstairs to the student help desk, you can find one.”

Student: “Isn’t this the dean’s office?”

Me: “Yes, it is.”

Student: “So, I know you have a stapler that I can borrow. It’ll be like two seconds.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

(The student scans my desk and begins bouncing from one foot to the other.)

Student: “So I really have to go downstairs?”

Me: “If you want your paper stapled, you will.”

(After a few more seconds, he finally catches the elevator to go downstairs. A few minutes later he walks by, waving his stapled paper at me. My coworker walks in.)

Me: “He really did all of that to still go downstairs.”

Coworker: “Oh, you’ll get used to it.”

Neil Versus The Guacamole

, , , , , | Working | January 14, 2019

(I’ve just met up with my parents at a locally-owned Mexican restaurant for lunch. It’s a town favorite, and whereas I might go once a month or so, my parents tend to go at least once every week or two. We are sitting in a booth next to the kitchen doors. After getting chips and salsa, my mother and I agree to split an appetizer of guacamole dip.)

Mom: *dipping a chip into the bowl, making small talk* “Hmm. The guacamole is kind of chunky today.”

Me: “Yeah, it seems like half the bowl is just avocado chunks. It’s usually a bit smoother.”

(We hadn’t realized that our waitress was standing near the door, and she pops out.)

Waitress: “You guys okay? Would you like me to get you some new guacamole?”

Both Of Us: “Oh, no, its fine. It still tastes great! A few chunks never hurt anyone.”

(The waitress takes our order. When she comes back, she starts setting our food in front of us. She sets down a plate in front of my dad.)

Dad: “Oh, sorry, I asked for hard tacos.”

(The waitress looks down at my dad’s lunch special, loaded down with beef, lettuce, tomato, sour cream, pico, etc. Sure enough, they’re soft tortillas.)

Waitress: “You’re right; you did. Sorry about that. I’ll get it fixed for you.”

(She sets the plate aside and begins to set my plate down: a couple of chicken tacos, with just cheese and lettuce.)

Me: “Whoops. These are hard tacos. I asked for the soft. Sorry.”

Waitress: *as a light goes off in her head* “Oh! I see what happened! I’ll get these fixed for you guys!”

(My dad and I thank her, and she turns to the kitchen. As she pushes the door open:)

Waitress: *loudly* “NEIL! C’MON!” *disappears*

(A few minutes later, I see her start to come back out with two new dishes. Just as the door starts to shut behind her, she looks down, swivels on her heel, and marches right back into the kitchen.)


(We eventually got our correct dishes. I’m not sure what was going on, but I hope Neil’s day got better.)

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