Makes You Want To Take Medical Leave

, , , , , | Right | December 1, 2017

(Our manager is taken sick at work and we have to call an ambulance. As a result, we’re closing early. Although we’ve put signs up, no one reads them, so I am standing at the door asking people not to come inside. Our shop is in the same building as a bookshop, which is remaining open.)

Me: “Sorry, guys, we’re closing early today, due to our manager being unwell.”

Customer: “I just want a hot chocolate.”

Me: “Unfortunately, we’re closing, and all the machines are being turned off.”

(As she is launching into a rant, the ambulance pulls up and paramedics go inside.)

Customer: “But I want a hot chocolate! No one else sells this hot chocolate! Can’t you just pour out some you’ve already made?”

Me: “We don’t have any made up right now; everything has been cleared away.”

(She looks at the sign, which says the bookshop is remaining open.)

Customer: “Where is [Bookshop] then?”

Me: “It’s just next door.”

(She peers through the door at the displays.)

Customer: “Oh. I thought you were trying to help me find another cafe. The least you could do is put a sign up.”

(She walked away in a huff, and people kept coming to the door and asking why we were closed, even whilst they could see the paramedics inside!)

Runner Needs To Stop Running And Think

, , , , | Working | December 1, 2017

(I work at a family resort on the weekends as front desk lead. This happens to me starting at around 8:00 pm.)

Me: “Hello, we need a pack-and-play for room 547.”

Runner: “Okay, okay, one second.” *waits five seconds* “What did they want?”

Me: “A pack-and-play.”

Runner: “What’s that? Oh, a crib. Okay, and what room number?”

Me: “547.”

Runner: “All right, a crib to 457.”

Me: “No, it’s 547.”

Runner: “457?”

Me: “FIVE, FOUR, SEVEN.”

Runner: “Okay. I got it now.”

Me: “Thank you.”

(One hour later:)

Room 457: “Hello. Someone delivered this crib and we don’t need it.”

Coworker: “Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll let our runner know.” *calls runner* “Hello, 457 called and said they were delivered a rollaway and never ordered one.”

(I’m walking by as this happens, and I’m completely dumbstruck that he STILL delivered the item to 457.)

Runner: “Oh? They don’t want it anymore?”

Me: “He was supposed to deliver it to 547.”

Coworker: “It needs to go to 547. Okay, bye.”

(By this time, 547 has called to complain that their baby wants to sleep and their pack-and-play did not show up. A half hour later, they call back and we call the runner again.)

Runner: *calling from room 557* “Say, what room was that pack-and-thingy supposed to go to?”

Me: *dying inside* “FIVE… FOUR… SEVEN.”

Runner: “Okay.”

(I didn’t receive any more calls after that, so I assume they got it that time.)

Not Making Any Side Comments

, , , , , | Right | December 1, 2017

(The way our tills used to be set up, we had to ring in a side order before it would let us ring in the drink for any given combo. We are also trained to ask which side a customer would like. This particular day, I’m taking drive thru orders.)

Me: “Welcome to [Restaurant]. ow may I help you?”

Customer: “[Combo #1] with [drink], [Combo #6] with a large [drink]…”

Me: “I’m sorry, could you tell me what the sides are with those combos? I can’t ring anything else in before the sides.”

Customer: “Just whatever it comes with. Then a [Combo #2] with [drink] and a [Combo #5] with [drink]. You got all that?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t. I still need the side for the first combo in order to proceed with the others.”

Customer: “God, just give me whatever it normally comes with.”

Me: “We actually offer a few different options. We have [lists sides].”

Customer: “Yes, that’s fine.”

Me: “Sorry, but which one would you like? I still can’t get past your first combo without knowing; then I’ll still need it for the others as well.”

Customer: “FRIES. Your combos come with FRIES and that’s what I want.”

Me: “Thank you, but as I said, we offer several options, which is why I asked. I didn’t want to ring in the wrong items. Are the others going to be with fries as well, then?”

Customer: “YES! Why is it so hard for you to know what your own food comes with?”

(Sadly, this happens far too often…)

Listen To Yourself Not Listening!

, , , , , | Right | December 1, 2017

(We only have three staff on at this point in the evening. I’m the only cashier, and, as such, I’m working the front and drive-thru. I have just taken a couple orders in drive-thru and am now taking orders for the front counter. Halfway through taking a front order, my headset goes off. Note, the other two staff members are unable to help, as they are also busy.)

Me: “Welcome to [Restaurant], I’ll be with you in just one moment.”

Customer: *clearly not listening* “Can I please have a—”

Me: “I’m sorry; I’ll just be with you in one moment.”

(I turn the volume down so I can pay attention to the customer I’m already dealing with. I finish with them and go back to the drive-thru.)

Me: “Thank you for waiting. How may I help you?”

Customer: “…with a large fry. Did you get all that?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I didn’t. I was with another guest, but I’m free to take your order now.”

Customer: “Then why did you say you were going to take my order if you weren’t going to listen?”

Me: “With all due respect, I politely informed you that I’d be with you shortly, twice. But now that I’m free, I’ll be more than happy to take your order.”

Customer: “Well, I shouldn’t have to repeat myself. You should have been paying attention like you said you were.”

(She ended up repeating her order, but she wasn’t happy about it.)

We Love Faggots, But We Couldn’t Eat A Whole One

, , , | Working | December 1, 2017

(I am shopping with my husband. I am male.)

Customer: “Faggots.”

(I instinctively turn around at the word and see an elderly lady trying to get a worker’s attention. She’s standing in front of a freezer with pork faggots on the top shelf.)

Worker: “Miss, you cannot use that word! Please watch your language. It is upsetting to our customers.”

Customer: *pointing* “Faggots!”

Worker: “I will not ask you again!”

Customer: *grumbles*

Worker: “That’s it. I’m calling security.”

(The worker tries to grab her by the elbow. I separate from my husband and walk between them, opening the shelf and taking a box down.)

Customer: “Oh, thank you, dear.”

(She takes the box and shoves it in the worker’s face.)

Customer: “FAGGOTS!” *walks away*

(The worker walked away, red-faced. Admittedly, the customer could have worded her request better, but the worker could have at least tried to understand what she asking before jumping to conclusions.)

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