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Hot Under The Collar And No Way Out

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: joan_of_darq | November 27, 2022

I work the morning front desk shift at a long-term stay hotel on an island in the Pacific Northwest. Today, a guest encounter at first gave me anxiety, but then I got a good laugh when it was all over.

In the pass down from the night audit shift, I read that a guest had called down to report that the air conditioning wasn’t getting cold enough. The night audit employee offered to fix it — very easy button-pushing involved — and the guest declined service, yet the note said they were extremely upset. They were rewarded 10,000 member points, and [Employee] apologized profusely. So, it was clear we had an entitled jerk to deal with.

Later in the morning, this same guest called down and said their room was “too hot” (72°F) and they didn’t sleep at all. My manager happened to be the one to answer their call, and wow, did it escalate. When [Manager] offered to come up to the room and fix the air conditioning (again), I could hear the guest shouting over the phone.

Guest: “Absolutely not! I’m naked right now! Jesus Christ. How many times have I told you it’s too hot in here?!”

My manager turned bright red.

Manager: “Ma’am, you’ve given us no opportunity to fix this problem, and we are willing to award you more points for the complaint; however, we suggest you seek accommodation elsewhere if our hotel is not to your liking.”

The guest screamed something again and hung up.

A few hours passed, and I was ready for a fight when the problem guest came to the front desk to check out. She glared at me as I was printing her receipt and asked a series of confusing questions about where she had parked and how to take the closest exit there.

Guest: “As you can see I’ve injured my leg; there is a brace and there are pins in it. This pharmacy in your stupid town doesn’t have my medication, so I’m pissed off at the world. Also, I found two fleas in my room, and I don’t have a dog!”

I politely handed her the receipt and finally looked up to make eye contact and tell her goodbye. Her mask said — I swear to God — “Shut up, Karen,” in big white lettering.

I’m still not over the irony of it all.

Not So Book-Smart

, , , , | Right | November 20, 2022

Summer is weeding season at our library. In order to buy new books, we have to get rid of old ones that haven’t been in circulation for a while. Children’s books we give away for free to schools and preschools or just random children who happen to pass by. Books for adults are sold for a symbolic sum.

Our yearly book sale is popular and appreciated by most visitors, but there are always people who believe that every single library needs to have every single book ever written.

Customer: “Why are you selling off this book series? I remember reading them a few years back; they were so good.”

Me: “No one has checked them out in the past five years, and we need to make space so we can keep buying new books.”

Customer: “What if someone wants to read them?”

Me: “The national depot library has them, so we’ll just do an interlibrary loan.”

Customer: “I just don’t understand why you’re getting rid of perfectly good books.”

Me: “If you want to have them at hand, you’re very welcome to buy them. I’ll even let you have them for free if they mean that much to you.”

Customer: “But I don’t have space for that many books!”

Me: “Neither do we.”


, , , , , , | Right | October 30, 2022

My parents own a vegetable farm. I help harvest and I go to the produce market to sell. A customer is browsing our vegetables, smoking a cigarette as we’re outside.

Customer: “Are these all organic?”

Me: “Yes, totally organic.”

Customer: *Dragging on their cigarette* “I only eat organic stuff ’cause pesticides are bad for you.”

Me: “We don’t use pesticides, just regular fertilizer only.”

Customer: *Stubbing out the cigarette on the ground and getting out a new one* “Hmm, are you sure? Some fertilizers have those chemicals in them.”

Me: “Just good old organic fertilizer.”

Customer: *Lighting new cigarette* “Hmm, I don’t know. These vegetables don’t look all that organic.”

Me: “I can guarantee that these vegetables are about as organic as it’s possible to get.”

Customer: *Dragging a third of the cigarette in a single breath* “Hmm, I’ll think about it. Just worried about all those chemicals.”

They wandered off to another part of the market and I could finally breathe again.

For The Record, I’m Not Interested In Your Spiel

, , , , , , | Working | CREDIT: LOUDCO-HD | October 30, 2022

I recently received an unsolicited call from my bank to tell me about “exciting new account options,” which is bank-speak to sell me ones with higher service charges. Sorry, I seriously doubt anything having to do with bank accounts can be EXCITING!

Representative: “This call is being recorded for quality…” *And so on*

Me: “Good. I’m recording it, too.”

He didn’t like that.

Representative: “That’s not necessary. You can obtain a copy of my recording or a transcript by requesting it in writing and paying a nominal fee of [amount].”

Me: “If I record you myself, then it’s free and I have it immediately.”

Representative: “I can’t continue if you’re recording me.”

Me: “That’s okay by me. I didn’t ask for this call in the first place.”

That was the end of that. The funny thing is that I wasn’t actually going to record him — just f****** with you, bruh! But why is it okay for you to do it but not me?

To clarify, criminal law in Canada says that you can record a conversation as long as one of the parties consents. Therefore, if you are the one making the recording, you consented. However, you cannot secretly record two people talking in their home.

Sorry, Zen-Like Inner Peace Is A Chargeable Add-On

, , , , , , | Right | October 29, 2022

I work at a coffee shop at an international airport in Florida. There is a Chinese woman who serves as some sort of monk liaison, and she comes into the store bi-monthly; monks like caramel Frappuccino, FYI.

Every time she comes in, she orders an iced coffee with cream and sugar. After she pays, she goes to the pick-up counter, waits for the barista to hand off her drink, and demands that they add whip cream and caramel, which are add-ons and cost extra. It is a small thing, the whip and caramel, but it costs us money which causes our loss prevention officer to think we are stealing in a big-picture sense. It is a licensed store, so there is none of that free beverage stuff that other stores can get away with.

Once you have given someone who knows better something for free without any perceivable gratitude, a seed of resentment is planted. We all have resentment blooming in our bellies for this lady. Finally, one day, one of my baristas loses her cool a little and tells the woman:

Barista: “We all remember you when you come in, you know. I know you know that this is not free, and this is the last time that we are doing this for you without charging you.”

When the words come out of her mouth, I am slightly proud but cringe because I know what is going to happen next.

Customer: “I want to speak to the manager.”

That’s me!

She starts screaming at me because my barista “yelled” at her.

Me: “I’m sorry you feel mistreated; however, I was standing next to the barista and she didn’t raise her voice.”

Customer: *Starts screaming at me* “It is not nice to be yelled at! She yelled at me and that is rude! It is very rude to yell at people!”

As everyone within a thirty-foot radius stares at us, mouths agape, I respond the only way I can.

Me: “Yes, it is very rude to yell at people. Very, very rude to yell at people. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

This was a few months ago. She came in and asked for an iced coffee a couple of days ago. I opted to make it for her his time. When I was through, I handed it to her and she started to ask for something, but I looked her in her eyes with an unflinching gaze. She stopped, took her drink, and sat down.

While this woman is a total pain, I still don’t mind too much because waiting on monks is pretty cool.