Her Demands For Free Stuff Are Half-Baked

, , , , | Right | February 7, 2019

(I’m fairly new to my job and I have a lady come through the drive-thru one night at around eight. Our oven is broken, so we can’t make any baked potatoes without burning them into oblivion.)

Customer: “Hi. I’d like a chili cheese baked potato, please.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am. We don’t have any baked potatoes tonight; our oven is broken. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Can I get you something else?”

Customer: “No, I just want a baked potato. I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t have them right now. Our oven is malfunctioning.”

Customer: *holding up the other people in the drive-thru line* “Isn’t there another way you can make one?”

Me: “I don’t believe so. I’m sorry. Is there anything else you would like tonight?”

Customer: “You know what? Let me speak to the manager.”

(I call my manager over and he asks her to pull up to the second window. She does so, and he calmly explains to her, yet again, that we’re out of baked potatoes.)

Customer: *yelling* “You know what? Fine! But I want a coupon for a free baked potato!”

Manager: “Ma’am, we can’t do that. If we gave you a coupon, we would have to give every other person ordering here a coupon and we can’t do that. Besides, we don’t have any coupons for a free baked potato.”

Customer: “You don’t have to give anyone else one, just me! I’ve been waiting all day!”

Manager: “I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”

(The lady was yelling profanities, and my manager finally calmed her down enough to tell her to leave. She continued screaming, but eventually drove away. As I looked back to the rest of the crew, they were all laughing their heads off and mocking her. Not a fun way to start a job.)

Superheroes Are So Hot Right Now

, , , , , , | Related | January 25, 2019

(My family is English, but my younger brother married an American and moved to the States. Their kids talk really fast, and with their accents, I sometimes have no idea what they are saying. This is particularly true when they are younger. One of my visits is when my nephew is about six, and he is really into The Avengers. As soon as I arrive from the airport, he takes me into his room to show me his Avengers decor, including a wall decal.)

Nephew: *pointing* “This is Iron Man, and Captain America, and Hulk, and Hot Guy…”

Me: “Who is that?”

Nephew: “Hot Guy.”

Me: “Hot Guy?”

Nephew: “No. Hot Guy.”

Me: “Hot Guy?”

Nephew: “No! Hot Guy!”

(By this point, I am thoroughly confused and know that I am missing something. In my head, I am agreeing with him that the actor is indeed very good looking, but am struggling to get around the idea that a six-year-old boy recognises this.)

Me: “Say it again, but slower this time.”

Nephew: *very slowly, as if explaining something to an idiot* “Haaawwwwkeyyyyeeee.”

(In my defence, I was horribly jet-lagged.)

Not Demonstrating Acceptable Behavior

, , , , , , | Working | January 1, 2019

(At this time, I identify as a woman and have a high-pitched “customer service” voice. I have just gotten accepted for a job demonstrating a product for [Company A] at the store of [Company B]. The interview on Monday is over the phone, and the job is Saturday and Sunday, except for the first week where I will be trained on Friday. As a college student, I make it clear that I’m not available for any kind of communication between Tuesday and Thursday because I need to focus on classes. My interviewer, who is also my direct manager, agrees to this. Everything is going fine; I’ll see them on Friday. Or so I thought. Tuesday, I receive a text.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name], how are things? Don’t forget you need to bring [documents] on Friday if you didn’t submit them by email. I haven’t checked, lol.”

Me: “Please keep in mind, I am not available for any communication on Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday. I submitted [document] by email. We can talk more on Friday. Have a nice day.”

Manager: “Oh, I wanted you to actually train Wednesday.”

Me: “We never agreed to that. I specifically said I am not available. If you’re unhappy with my availability, I will be informing you now that I am prioritizing my class work over this job. If you want that priority changed, it’ll cost [higher price per hour], as that is the industry standard, above the wages you’re currently offering. I am including any text messages individually as one-hour charges each. Thanks for your understanding.”

Manager: “Jeez, it was just a joke. See you Friday!”

(Wednesday, the manager sends a series of about forty to fifty messages, all varying in tone from casual chatting to borderline sexual harassment, like asking me what I’m wearing and a few ranting about his ex. The final message is the important one.)

Manager: “So, are you still interested in the job or do I need to find someone more dedicated?”

(Pissed about his genuine disrespect of boundaries, and having PTSD flashbacks because of how his messages are similar to those sent to me by my abusive ex, I decide I’m done with his nonsense.)

Me: “I was still interested in the job. And I would have shown up on Friday and everything would have been fine. Everything you sent me could have been discussed on Friday as we had planned, and some of it shouldn’t have been sent at all. But now? No. I no longer want this job. You have shown me that you have no concept of boundaries, and demonstrated an inability to respect your employees. I don’t want to work for someone like you. I don’t get jobs to make friends. I do not and did not ever want to be your friend. I get jobs to make money. Learn to make friends in appropriate settings. I quit. Lose my number.”

Manager: *suddenly back-pedaling* “You can’t do this! We need you! Just take a joke! We already spent five grand securing the location at [Company B]! And you were the only qualified applicant! If you’re serious about this, you need to tell [Company A]’s owner why you’re pissing on his money!”

Me: “No, you can tell him how you threw away his money by being so unprofessional. In fact, show him our text messages. Good luck finding a new demonstration-lady with half as much experience as me, in this economy, for those wages.”

(He gets the hint and doesn’t reply. He tries to call on Thursday, but I ignore the calls, and my voicemail isn’t set up so he can’t yell at me that way. On Friday, I get a call from [Company A]’s owner and he asks me to, in my words, explain why I didn’t show up for training.)

Me: “Is [Manager]’s phone with the number [exact phone number] a company device or a personal device?”

[Company A]’s Owner: “It’s a company device. Why?”

Me: “Go to your account provider for the phone and pull up the text messages from Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Call back and tell me what you think happened.”

(I hang up on him because he’s wasting my time by not having done so in the first place. On Saturday, he calls again:)

[Company A]’s Owner: *nervous* “So, uh, about the issue this week. I just wanted to personally apologize. [Manager] was… totally out of line; don’t worry about a thing. We won’t charge you a penny if you don’t share those text messages.”

Me: *in the most passive-aggressive polite and cheer customer service voice I can manage* “That’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t owe you anything. The expense of training and location rentals is the burden of the business, not of the employee. What you’re attempting is blackmail. I’ll do whatever I want, and you’ll never contact me again unless you want the police involved, mmkay?”

(He hung up on me. I happened to go to [Company B] on personal business, and saw [Company A]’s demonstration booth set up but unmanned. It remained unmanned for three weeks, until another lady started working there. After a brief conversation, I found out that [Manager] was doing the same harassment to her, and she was going to quit after only two shifts because of it! The next employee to man the booth was a man, who was a Poe’s Law-subtype of sexist with a familiar voice. Thankfully he got banned from entering [Company B]’s premises after talking too much about the anatomy of female customers, and [Company A] hired someone much more decent.)

At Least The Wi-Fi Is Flowing Smoothly

, , , , , | Right | December 17, 2018

(I work for an ISP company.)

Me: “Hi, thank you for calling [ISP]. How can I help?”

Customer: “My water heater is not working!”

Me: “Oh, well I am sorry this is happening to you, but I fix Internet. I have no clue how to fix a water heater.”

Customer: “But I have kids and they can’t shower. I can’t take them to school if they are not clean, you know. I also have a bad hip and I just need my water heater fixed.”

Me: “I am sorry this is happening but I can only fix Internet and TV issues. I really have no clue how to fix water heaters.”

Customer: “Are you sure you are not the water heating people?”

Me: “Yup, I am pretty sure. Is there anything else that can help you with?”

Customer: “Well, you never fixed my water heater.”

(She hung up after that.)

Their Driving Is Nothing To Sneeze At

, , , , , , , | Romantic | December 8, 2018

(I have PTSD from being in a severe car accident as a child that resulted in a traumatic brain injury. I am mostly recovered and normal as an adult. I prefer to have my wife drive on days when my PTSD is acting up. There’s just this one thing: when she’s driving and sneezes, she grips the wheel with a death grip, shuts her eyes tight, and shakes the wheel side-to-side, making the whole vehicle move side-to-side on the road. This is brown-pants-level terrifying for me. She thinks I’m being a baby about it. We have a dumb fight over it, and then get over it. The next week her parents are in town. Her father is driving us somewhere and he’s driving way above the speed limit. Suddenly, he sneezes, and in doing so, grips and shakes the wheel violently, which causes the vehicle to suddenly merge into a different lane.)

Wife: *with terror in her eyes* “Sorry about last week. You were right.”

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