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Somebody Plays The Fool, Everytime

, , , , | Right | August 5, 2008

(Our phone number is one digit off from a doctor’s office, so we get calls for them all the time.)

Me: “Hello?”

Lady: “Is this Dr. [Name]’s office?”

Me: “No, ma’am. I’m sorry, but you have the wrong number.”

Lady: “That’s impossible! Oh, wait, I know what this is… This is some kind of April Fools’ joke!”

Me: “No, ma’am. I can assure you that it is not.”

Lady: “Yeah, uh-huh. You’re good, but I would like to make an appointment and I will not take no for an answer.”

Me: *sigh* “How is three-thirty?”

Lady: “Wonderful! See you scamps then.” *click*

Me: *to my mom* “She told me I was playing an April Fools’ joke on her… in July.”


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The Coddling Stops Here

, , , | Right | July 21, 2008

(I’m at a customer’s house to try to repair a desk…)

Me: “Well, it can’t be repaired, so I’ll have to order a new desktop. It could be a couple of weeks.”

Customer: “So you’re taking this one with you right?”

Me: “No, I can’t fit it in my vehicle.”

Customer: “So you’ll be back for it then?”

Me: “No, we don’t do delivery; henceforth, we don’t do pickups, either.”

Customer: “But I bought it from your store!”

Me: “…and you took it home from my store.”

Customer: “Yeah, and it barely fit in my SUV!”

Me: “But it did fit, and you took it home with you.”

Customer: “Well, you’re going to need to pick it up. I’m not bringing it all the way back.”

Me: “Stay with me here: you bought it, picked it up, took it to your home and discovered it had a problem. Now you want to disavow all responsibility? That isn’t how it works. If you got a blender home and it didn’t work, would you call the store and tell them to come to pick it up?”

Customer: “…”

Me: “You’re remodeling your home, not paying me to do it. Don’t forget what that Y stands for in DIY.”

Customer: *sheepishly* “…can you help me put it in my car?”

Talk To The Click

, , , | Right | July 6, 2008

(Having moved, I got a new phone number which previously belonged to a retail store in Clermont-Ferrand. I had already had a few calls for that store, so I knew the drill.)

Woman: “Hello, is this [Store]? I would like to know until when you are open.”

Me: “I’m sorry, you dialed a wrong number. [Store] doesn’t have this number anymore. I’m pretty sure they closed.”

Woman: “That’s not my problem! You didn’t answer my question. When do they close?”

Me: “No, seriously, you’re calling me at home here. I’m sure that if you look in the yellow pa–”

Woman: “Now look here, young man! I don’t have all day. Do you live in Clermont-Ferrand?”

Me: “Well, actually I do, but–”

Woman: “THEN TELL ME WHEN [STORE] CLOSES! GO LOOK IT UP OR SOMETHING!”

Me: “Seriously?”

Woman: *calmly* “Yes.”

Me: “I’m hanging up now.”

Woman: “WHAT? DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE TALKING TO–”

Me: *click*

Someone Needs Sensitivity Training

, , , | Right | May 16, 2008

(I’m at home on Christmas Day with my family, eating dinner. Our number is similar to a floral shop in our town, so we’re constantly getting calls from customers.)

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “WHERE ARE MY FLOWERS?! I ORDERED MY FLOWERS FOR NOON ON CHRISTMAS DAY AND I DON’T HAVE THEM YET! WHY CAN’T YOU PEOPLE EVER DELIVER MY FLOWERS RIGHT?! LAST YEAR, I…”

(I predict a whole novel’s worth of stories, so I figure I’ll cut in.)

Me: “Sir! This isn’t the floral shop; you have the wrong number. This is [my number] and you just interrupted our Christmas dinner.”

Caller: “WELL, F*** YOUR CHRISTMAS DINNER!” *click*


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