Unfiltered Story #137075

, , , | Unfiltered | January 21, 2019

(Suggested Title: Dead Men Tell No Tales But Still Fill Out the Long Form)

(As part of the 2000 Census, I was working on a team whose job was to handle Group Homes, Assisted Living, and similar places)

Census Taker: “Hello Ma’am. Our records show you didn’t send in your census form?”

Nice Elderly Lady: “My Husband sent ours in.”

(I politely not, wave over one of the Orderlies and ask)

Census Taker: “Is this lady’s husband also somewhere here, living somewhere else, or possibly deceased?”

Orderly: “Her Husband’s been dead for eight years.”

(I nod and go back into the room, pulling a short form from my folder, and putting a sticky on the long form assigned to her)

Census Taker: “My apologies, ma’am. It seems we had a clerical error and have lost the copy your husband sent in. Since he is away, could I please sit down with you and have you fill out this short form. It won’t take more then 5 minutes, and if you need, I can read the questions and you can just tell me the answers to fill in.”

Nice Elderly Lady: “Well, sure. That seems fine.”

Census Taker: “Thank you very much, ma’am.”

(Won’t bore you with the 5 minutes, but we filled her form out, I then confided with my supervisor and go permission to notate the husband was deceased on the form, and we then filed it. At the end of the day, I felt good that I had done my job, and not destroyed this nice lady’s happy world where her husband was still alive, filling out the long form, and promptly sending their census forms off. Not sure if this story really counts. She wasn’t right, but did it really matter that she wasn’t right? Plus her behavior wasn’t funny, nor outrageous, and sadly not even unusual.)

Unfiltered Story #136318

, , , | Unfiltered | January 9, 2019

(In late 1996, Houston split its area code coverage — customers with service at addresses inside Beltway 8 retained the original 713, and customers outside it had their numbers changed to the new 281 area code. In late 1999, I got a cellphone, and was assigned 713-XXX-XXXX — a number which had formerly been held by an oilfield services company which had its headquarters outside Beltway 8 and therefore had been moved to the 281 area code three years previously. I regularly got calls intended for them, and initially I was patient, assuming it was a carryover from old publications and the like and would taper off as people started using new directories and so on. I even had my voicemail set to a message that would tell people to try again with the correct area code and only leave a message if it was in fact me they were trying to reach, not that this stopped me from getting a message or two a week from someone who couldn’t be bothered to listen.

As time went on and the area code change became increasingly distant, I lost patience, but of course I also had a greater number of people to whom I had given my number who would have to be informed if I changed it. So I kept on, although I no longer bothered to be polite to people using a number that was more than 5 years out of date (especially if they started out being irate at me for not returning messages left on my voicemail that clearly told them they were wrong). One of the greatest calls, though, was one I got after I’d had the number for five years myself, which means it was EIGHT years after the company’s number had changed….)

Me: “Hello?” (Remember, this is my personal cell, not a business phone.)

Caller: “Uh, hello, is [name I don’t recognize] available, please?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone by that name.”

Caller: “Oh! Is this [oilfield services company]?”

Me: *facepalming* “Oh, them. Look, you want the same phone number, but the 281 area code instead of 713; they changed it when the new area code rolled out in 1996.”

Caller: “199— you mean, like eight years ago?”

Me: “Yep.”

Caller: “But [name] put this as his current work number, with [oilfield services company] as his current employer, on his application.”

Me: “Huh. Well, if whatever he’s applying for requires attention to detail, that might not be his strong suit. On the other hand, I guess he never calls in sick!”

Caller: *cracking up* “I guess not! Okay, so if I dial again with 281 instead of 713, I should get [oilfield services company]? Thanks for your help!”

(I’m sure she should have just signed off after I told her the correct area code and not disclosed what she did about the reason for the call, but it wouldn’t have been half as funny if she had!)

Rushing Into Irony

, , , , , | Right | December 19, 2018

(I am consistently one of the fastest cashiers, as the store tracks our scanning speeds. During a very busy Sunday afternoon the lines at the registers are long and I am checking customers out very quickly to try and get the lines down. A customer waiting in my line gets my attention.)

Customer #1: “Excuse me!  EXCUSE ME?!”

Me: *as I am quickly working on scanning the current customer’s groceries* “Yes, ma’am?”

Customer #1: “Can you hurry up?! I am in a rush here!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am! I am going as quickly as I can. I will be with you in just a moment.”

(I finish up with the customers in front of her and now it is her turn.)

Customer #1: *very rudely* “Make it quick, I have to get going!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.” *I scan her groceries as fast as I possibly can while she stands there watching me* “Okay, ma’am, your total today is [total].”

(At this point she sets her purse up on the counter and begins searching through it. Eventually she pulls out her checkbook and begins to write a check. She could have been filling out the check while I was scanning and bagging her groceries if she was in such a hurry. At this point her groceries are all bagged and ready and we are waiting on her as she SLOWLY fills out her personal check. It takes her longer to write the check than it took me to scan and bag her entire order. Finally she hands me the check.)

Me: *I process the payment; it goes through* “Thank you, ma’am. You have a good day!”

(As the lines are still long I immediately begin scanning the next customer’s groceries. The customer who was in a rush is still standing in the same location now writing in her checkbook, I assume balancing it. She takes so long to do so I have now scanned, bagged, and finished checking out the customer behind her. However, as it is busy and the registers are very close together, [Customer #2] is now waiting on the first customer to move out of the way so she can get her items and leave. I begin scanning yet the next customer’s groceries. As I am scanning….)

Customer #2: *patiently waits a few moments but clearly wants to get by [Customer #1] and leave* “Excuse me?”

Customer #1: *ignores her, continues to write in her checkbook*

([Customer #2] waits a few more moments and is getting more impatient to get by and leave. By this time I am just about done with [Customer #3].)

Customer #2: “EXCUSE ME?!”

Customer #1: *finally looks up* “WHAT?!”

Customer #2: “Can you move out of the way so we can get by?!”

Customer #1: *very angry and flustered* “FINE! Why is everyone always in such a d*** rush?!”

([Customer #3] and I looked at each other and started laughing as he had seen and heard all of this too. [Customer #1] gave us dirty looks and finally left, allowing [Customer #2] to get by.)

These Are Some Pie In The Sky Questions

, , , , | Right | December 16, 2018

(I work at a popular bakery that only makes pies. These are some of our regular complaints and questions.)

Customer #1: “Do you sell cakes, cookies, or anything besides pie?”

Customer #2: “Does the banana pie have bananas?” *or* “Why does the banana pie have bananas in it?”

Customer #3: “Why is the apple pie sweet?”

Customer #4: “Can I get a strawberry pie with no seeds?”

Customer #5: “What is the difference between a whole pie and a slice?”

Customer #6: “Do you make a pecan pie with no pecans?”

Customer #7: “Do you make a cherry pie with no cherries?”

Customer #8: “Why do I have to buy a whole slice of pie? You should just give me a free sample, the same size as a slice.”

Giving Them A Hard Pill To Swallow

, , , , | Right | December 8, 2018

(I work at a retail pharmacy. I get a call from a patient.)

Customer: “I just came by the drive-thru, and you f****** idiots screwed up my prescription. This is completely wrong!

(I apologize profusely and confirm the medication she was supposed to pick up.)

Me: “You certainly did pick up the correct medication for yourself. What exactly was wrong with it?”

Customer: “Last time I got ninety pills, and this time I only got thirty! What kind of business are you running here?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, that is a bit peculiar. Let me see why that was done.”

(I look up her prescription, which is a quantity of thirty with three refills.)

Me: “I see your doctor only prescribed a total of a hundred and twenty pills. On your preferences, you request ninety-day supplies. We did indeed fill it for ninety days previously, meaning only thirty were remaining on your prescription, which is what you received today. After this, you will need a new prescription from your doctor in order to get a ninety-day supply. I’m sorry for the confusion.”

Customer: “No f****** way. You guys f****** shorted me. I’m going over soon, and you guys had better give me my d*** pills. I know you offer that service, since y’all are f****** useless.”

Me: “Ma’am, we did not short you. You were meant to get thirty pills. You don’t have enough pills on your prescription to fill for ninety. I can send a refill request fax to your doctor, and perhaps she can approve for more. If it’s within seven days, we can reimburse you and get you ninety days when it’s approved.”

Customer: *scoffs* “Seriously?! What the f*** am I supposed to do without my medication?! I need this stuff to live. Just give me my f****** pills.”

(I am going around in circles, so I cut her off.)

Me: “No. I’m sorry, I cannot invent a new prescription and give you pills you do not have. You have no refills. Zero. You have thirty days’ worth you just picked up, and thirty entire days to get more. I can get you my pharmacy manager if you want a second opinion.”

(I put her on hold before she could protest or swear at me anymore, and the pharmacist who had been listening to her in disbelief picked up the call. The customer hung up, and we thankfully haven’t heard from her since.)