B-oyster-ious Behavior

, , , | Right | April 27, 2018

(I work in an Irish pub that is located in a great location, barring one thing: we’re right down the street from an oyster bar. We have the name of our pub — strikingly dissimilar to the name of the oyster bar — plastered in giant letters across the front door, on either side of the door, and above the door. At least four times an hour, we get people who walk in, sit down, and order oysters, at which point I have to inform them that, indeed, their kindergarten teachers have failed them. A woman and her several preteen children come in and insist that they have a reservation.)

Me: “Hi. Welcome to [Pub]! How many?”

Customer: “We have a reservation.”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t take reservations here at [Pub].”

Customer: “Oh? Then why did your manager inform me otherwise?”

Me: “I’m so sorry, ma’am. He didn’t tell me know you were coming. Let me grab him.”

(Knowing full well she isn’t looking for our pub, considering she’s dressed in her “finery,” I find my manager.)

Manager: “Hi! Welcome to [Pub]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Your—” *sniffs condescendingly* “—underling here told me that you don’t take reservations.”

Manager: “That’s correct, ma’am. Did you read the sign on the door?”

(The woman is flabbergasted.)

Customer: “How dare you? Of course I read it.”

Manager: “Right. Would you mind taking a look at it again, to humor me?”

(The woman scoffs and saunters towards the door muttering about oysters. She stops dead in her tracks.)

Customer: “This isn’t the oyster bar?

Manager: “No, ma’am. This is a pub.”

(The woman muttered something about fools and ingrates, and some kind of insult to my intelligence, and then proceeded to trip on her way out of our pub. Karma. Sucks, doesn’t it?)

Laptop Flop Meets Military Intelligence

, , , , | Working | April 26, 2018

(I am in the army, where I am working as the only computer and networking tech. This means supporting over two hundred end-users all alone. A brand-new lieutenant walks into my office on a particularly busy day.)

Lieutenant: “I need a brand-new laptop, now!”

Me: “Excuse me, sir?”

Lieutenant: “I said I need a brand-new laptop. Time now!”

Me: “Okay, sir. What exactly is going on with the one you were issued?”

(I just issued them a laptop that morning.)

Lieutenant: “The one you gave me is too old. It doesn’t even connect to the Internet, and I need a new one to work.”

(Cue the feeling that they’re doing something stupid.)

Me: “Well, sir, give me a few minutes, as I am working on the Commander’s laptop and it is my current priority.”


(Deep breath.)

Me: “All right, sir. Before I can, I need to properly diagnose your system at your workstation. If you’ll show me your desk…”

(After a short walk down the hall to another office where several officers and NCOs are working, the lieutenant shows me his laptop and I immediately find the problem. At this unit, all Wi-Fi is disabled, so the only way to connect to the Internet is via a hard line. In this case, the line is not connected to his laptop. Holding up the disconnected cable, I turn to the lieutenant.)

Me: “Sir, you need to plug this in for the Internet to work… as I explained this morning when I issued this laptop to you.”

(I dropped the cable on his desk and walked out back to my office. I could hear the other officers and NCOs laughing all the down the hall.)

Checked Out A Long Time Ago

, , , , , | Right | April 26, 2018

(I’m a librarian, working at a college library’s reference desk. This happens in 2008.)

Patron: “Where’d the lending library go?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Patron: “You used to have a lending library: a cart with books to take and read on the honor system.”

Me: “That sounds like our entire library.”

Patron: “No, you could take a book without checking it out, then bring it back later. Where’s the cart? Did you move it?”

Me: “I’ve been here for two years, and I don’t think we’ve had anything like that in my time here. When did you last use it?”

Patron: “1987.”

Commission Commiserations

, , , , | Right | April 25, 2018

(I work at a hotel in Canada.)

Customer: “Hi! I’d like to rent a room for this evening, checking out the day after tomorrow.”

Me: “No problem. Do you want a room with one bed or two?”

Customer: “First of all, what are your rates?”

Me: “It is $105 for the room with one bed, or $119 for the room with two beds.”

Customer: “On [American Travel Site] they have the rooms advertised at $89 for the one bed and $102 for the room with two beds. Can you match that price?”

Me: “I’m afraid not, sir. Those are the rates of that company, and in order to get those rates, you have to pay up front and the room is non-refundable and non-cancellable, meaning if something happens and you can’t come, you lose your money. I can bring the price down a little. I can do $99 for the room with one bed or $109 for the room with two, but I can’t go any lower than that.”

Customer: “Well, then, I’ll just book it online and you guys can pay the commission, then.”

Me: “That’s your choice, sir. Those prices are still on the table if you call back.”

(He hangs up, but about two hours later he calls back, furious.)

Customer: “Yeah, I just booked that room online, and I need to cancel it and get my money back. Those idiots charged me $150! The room is supposed to be $101 plus tax. Now, they tell me that their rates are listed in American funds, so with the conversion I’m paying more than I would have if I booked with you. That’s dishonest business practice. Anyway, I need you to refund my card, cancel the room, and rebook me at the rate you offered, please.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but like I explained earlier, those rooms are prepaid and non-cancellable. Even if it were refundable, I don’t have your money to give back to you. [Company] takes the payments, and then sends us a prepaid credit card to charge the room costs to. Any refund would have to come from them, but like I said, they don’t refund them.”

Customer: “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Me: “No, sir, I wish I were. That’s how they make their money. They don’t have hotels to maintain. They take your money, give us your reservation details, then share the money with us in the form of a reduced room rate. You may have paid $150, but after taxes we’re barely making $90 off this room.”

Customer: “Unbelievable. No wonder they make so much money; that’s a scam!”

Me: “Anyhow, if you still wish to stay two nights like you initially wanted, I can give you a good rate on the second night.”

Customer: “Seriously?! They said you were sold out tomorrow!”

Me: “Really? Well, I’m standing here looking at a list of unsold rooms, and I’m pretty sure we’re not.”

Customer: *laughing* “I guess I should have shut up and just took that rate from you, huh?”

Me: “Well, live and learn, I guess, right? I’ll just add the extra night at $109; your room is ready whenever you are.”

Customer: “Thanks, hun, you’re the best.”

(I’m so glad he didn’t take it out on me.)

Replace Chicken Place

, , , | Right | April 24, 2018

(I work at a fried chicken and taco chain. I am working drive-thru on a pretty slow evening. A car comes up to the box.)

Me: “Welcome to [Store]. This is [My Name]. What can I get for you?”

Woman: “My boyfriend said that he placed an order here, and I want to know if it is ready yet.”

Me: “Sure! Give me one second and I’ll check with my manager.”

(I check with my manager but he has no call-in orders at all.)

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, but it seems that there’s no orders placed for anyone at this time.”

Woman: “Are you sure? I’m sure it was. My boyfriend told me!”

Me: “Are you sure he placed it here?”

Woman: “Yes! This is [Other Fried Chicken Place], right?”

Me: “No, ma’am, this is [Store]. [Other Fried Chicken Place] is located right down the road to the left.”

Woman: “Oh, thank you!”

(She drives off, and I explain what happened to my manager. We share a laugh, and a few minutes later I have a customer on the line again. I give my customary spiel.)

Same Woman: “Are you sure you’re not [Other Fried Chicken Place]?”

Me: *holding in laughter* “Yes, ma’am. We’re [Store].”

Woman: “Oh. Okay!”

(She drives off. I burst into laughter and my manager asks me what’s up. I explain that it’s the same woman again.)

Manager: “Don’t we have the name on the side of the building? And a sign?”

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