I work in healthcare on the night shift. There’s a department store near the hospital I work in that has some really good sales going and they open right around when I get off shift. I don’t have to come back in tonight so I figure I’ll shop before heading home.

I’m wearing navy blue scrub pants that can look like slacks if you’re not looking closely, a white scrub top, and a blue vest with multiple pockets. Trust me; in my line of work, you can never have too many pockets. The store uniform is dark slacks, a white or blue shirt, and a blue work vest. I’m pretty sure you can see where this is going, but believe it or not, I had no clue.

In my defense, the unit I work in is an extremely high-stress environment in which not paying full attention truly can cost someone their life, so I end up spending twelve to fourteen straight hours on full alert while at work. Once I clock out, as anyone who knows me can tell you, my brain kind of goes into low power mode.

The store is mostly empty with just me, a few obviously retired people up shopping at this ungodly hour, and a handful of employees. I circle the store several times trying to find gifts and am stopped by several customers. I actually circle so many times that I know where most things are. 

Customer #1: “Excuse me, miss? Where are the little girls’ pajamas?”

Me: “I just saw those. Head down this row to the left until you get to the [diapers], and they’re right behind them.”

Customer #1: “Thank you.”

Customer #2: “Excuse me, where are the gloves?”

Me: “Do you want snow gloves, leather gloves, or those little stretchy ones?”

Customer #2: “The stretchy type.”

Me: “Follow me. They’re this way but a little hard to find because they’re just hanging at the end of the jewelry section.”

Customer #2: “Why are these ones more expensive? They look the same?”

Me: “These ones are tech gloves. You can put them on and still use a touch screen like this.”

I put on a glove and demonstrate with my phone.

Customer #2: “Oh, I see! Thanks!”

I go around a corner and see an octogenarian looking at two similar comforters with a confused expression. She spots me and smiles and waves me over. 

Customer #3: “Excuse me, miss. Can you tell me if these are on sale?”

She’s standing right next to the sale sign, but the print on it is so small even I can barely read it. 

Me: “The item number on the blue one is listed on the sale sign but not this green one.”

Customer #3: “Oh, I just know my grandson would like the green better, but I guess the blue is nice, too.”

Me: “Well, I just saw a manager hanging around the toy department; if you ask nicely they might give you the sale price on the green one.”

Customer #3: “You think so?”

Me: “Can’t hurt to ask.”

Customer #3: “Thank you, I will!”

I realize I’ve been in the store for over an hour and have been stopped by just about every other customer in the store. I finally meander over to check out and see [Customer #1] in front of me checking out, [Customer #2] talking to someone on the phone while heading out the door, and [Customer #3] talking to a manager at the customer service counter.

As I get in line behind [Customer #1], he looks over at me.

Customer #1: “Oh, doing a little shopping on your own? Are you on break?”

Me: *Still oblivious* “Oh no, I’m off the clock for the day.”

Customer #1: “Well, enjoy the rest of your day.”

Me: “Thanks! You, too!”

He leaves and I step up to put my items on the counter and see the actual employee looking at me funny. Finally, he looks closely at me and asks for my badge. Without thinking, I reach into my pocket and pull out my hospital ID. He blinks.

Employee: “You don’t work here.”

I just shake my head no, put my ID away, and keep unloading my cart. I’m just aware enough to realize that the employee looks very confused. Then, [Customer #2] stops to call out, “Thanks again,” while waving at me as they head out the door and the actual employee looks even more confused.

As I’m loading the last of my items, I hear [Customer #3] call out:

Customer #3: “Oh, miss! Look, there she is. Miss!”

I look over and wave at her as she points me out to a very confused-looking manager behind the customer service desk.

Customer #3: “Look, they gave me the green one at clearance price!”

I smiled at her and gave her a thumbs-up. I paid for my purchases and left with the actual employee who checked me out and the manager from behind the service counter watching me all the way out the door with the most befuddled looks on their faces.

I went home, slept for nine hours, and was in the middle of having breakfast/dinner when I finally realized I had been mistaken for a store employee and helped several people before thoroughly confusing two real employees while checking out.

If everyone hadn’t been so polite when asking for help, I might have figured it out earlier… or not. It’s really hard to think when you’re on low power mode.

Me: “Hello, and thank you for calling [Library], how can I help you?”

Patron: “I just tried to call the local government switchboard and no one was picking up; they said they were closed. What’s happening?”

Me: “Well, we’re a part of the local government, but I really have no control over their switchboard. I know they’re closed for lunch between noon and one o’clock, so maybe try to call back after that?”

Patron: “No, I called the number and the voice said that they were closed. I don’t know what’s happening!”

Me: “All right, if you hold for a moment, I’ll try to call the switchboard and see if I can figure out what’s going on.”

I put her on hold and call the switchboard. Of course, I get sent directly to voicemail.

Voicemail: “Welcome to [Local Government]. The switchboard is closed for lunch between noon and one o’clock. Please call back later.”

I hang up and get back to my patron.

Me: “Hello, ma’am? I just tried to call the switchboard and they are closed for lunch right now, just like they said in the voice message. Try to call back after one o’clock and they’ll help you.”

Patron: “And how was I supposed to know that? You really should do something about it!”

She hung up and I was left wondering exactly how I was supposed to stop the lone telephone operator at the switchboard from going to lunch.

Related:
Voicemail Fail, Part 4
Voicemail Fail, Part 3
Voicemail Fail, Part 2
Voicemail Fail

I work for a huge company that operates in a variety of fields, including running hotels. I, however, work at a law office. The phone rings and I answer.

Me: “[My Name] at [Law Office].”

Customer: “Hi, I would like to book a standard room with a queen-sized bed for the upcoming weekend.”

Me: “I’m afraid you have the wrong number. This is a law office.”

Customer: “No! I’m looking at the Internet and this is the number!”

Me: “Not to worry. It’s a common mistake. We are a part of [Company Group], as are the hotels you are probably looking for. The phone numbers are quite similar. Have a nice—”

Customer: “You’re not going to hang up, are you?! What kind of customer service is this? Why, I never!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I just can’t help you any further. You need to call the hotel to book a room. Bye.”

I hang up, but the phone rings again almost immediately.

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “How dare you hang up on me?! I need to book this room now. I’m going to the wedding of [Person #1] and [Person #2]. They can have only ten people attending because of the health restrictions and I am one of the chosen ones!”

Apparently, the wedding is for some celebrities, as she assumes I would know the names. I’ve never heard of these people but am also honored to speak with “the chosen one.” For some reason, I start to feel a little sorry for her. She is annoying and demanding sure, but she’s also clearly confused.

Me: “Okay. Let me see what I can do for you.”

I go to the website of the hotel chain.

Me: “Which of our hotels would be the best for you? We have six in total in the central area of Helsinki.”

Customer: “The one I called, obviously!”

Me: “We have a shared booking number. Please, just state the name of the hotel.”

Customer: “Well, actually, I’m not sure which one would be the best. Can you recommend the nicest for me?”

We spend about twenty minutes on the phone comparing the hotels and she finally chooses one. I go to the booking section of the website, get her details, and book a standard room with a queen-sized bed for her.

Me: “…and we are all done. I hope you have a wonderful stay at [Hotel] and hopefully all goes well at the wedding.”

Customer: “Thank you so much! Sorry I was rude in the beginning! I’m just so nervous to be one of the chosen for such an event. Sorry again. Have a nice day.”

Me: “Not a problem at all. Bye!”

I go to the gas station and pull up at one of the pumps. It’s morning, and the gas station is empty. I get out of my car, run my card at the pump, select my fuel type, and put the nozzle in the gas tank. It clicks but nothing happens. The pump is clearly not running. I check the pump to make sure I actually selected the fuel type; yes, I did select the fuel type I wanted since that one is showing the price, whereas the other two are no longer showing the price. I try again; nothing comes out. I check to make sure my credit card was read by the machine; the screen does not indicate anything is wrong. I try to get the pump started a few more times, each time checking both the fuel screen and the payment screen to see if I missed a step. There is no sign indicating that the pump is out of order. Finally deciding that the problem may be the attendant failing to activate the pump, I finally go inside.

The attendant is standing at the counter, looking at me. Considering that I am the only customer at the station and the pump I used is in her direct line of vision, I am wondering why she would not activate the pump.

Me: “Hi, pump two appears to not be working, and I checked everything—”

Attendant: “Yes, there was a sign on there before, but someone took it down. It only works on Premium.”

There is a long pause after she speaks. I stare at her, waiting for her to offer further assistance. I am incredibly confused as to why she would not replace the sign or put a bag over the pump. By all appearances, she seems to have literally NOTHING to do, and there were no cars around when I pulled in. In the past, I’ve even had attendants alert me over the intercom if something was wrong with my pump or the card reader as I was using it. This particular attendant makes absolutely no move to help, and her response does not offer a solution, like suggesting that I move to a different pump.

Me: “Um… are all the pumps like that?”

Attendant: “You can move to pump four if you want to use Regular.”

I sputtered a bit because I was frustrated and trying very hard not to take it out on her, even though I felt like she did nothing to prevent the situation from happening and seemed to not be interested in helping further. I just walked out of the gas station, moved my car, and tried again with pump four, which works perfectly.

I kept looking at the broken pump; the attendant was not coming out with a sign. I went to my car to make my own sign since I felt like she was going to let this happen to everyone who came to that pump. However, the second I was done making my sign, she came out with a sign and put it on the pump. We both made eye contact for a long moment before she turned around and went back inside. I just got back in my car and drove to work, making a mental note to never to go to that gas station if I could avoid it.

I am trying to find regular work after being laid off due to the health crisis. I have a seasonal job through the holidays, but that is only about six weeks of work. Once my contract ends, I decide to use a little bit of the money I made to buy hair dye and dye my hair red; I want it a bit darker but it ends up about the color of Princess Ariel’s hair, but shoulder-length.

After going through FOUR phone interviews spread out over two months, I finally get an in-person interview. I meet the interviewer, she gets me a visitor badge, and we head to her office. After some small talk about traffic and the weather, we sit down in her office. As soon as I sit down, she starts with:

Interviewer: “So, your hair is a problem. It needs to be a natural color.”

Me: “Yeah, I thought that might be the case, but it’s no problem. I can cut it down to my roots. I’ve had short hair before so I know I like it.”

Interviewer: “Oh, I’d feel bad if we made you cut it. You can also dye over it.”

Me: “Yeah, I can’t really dye over this, but it’s okay; I’ve had short hair before.”

We talk for a few minutes about my work experience and such, and she brings it up again.

Interviewer: “I feel bad for making you cut your hair if you get the job, but it’s the policy for no unnatural colors. I feel bad that you can’t dye over it.”

Me: “It’s really okay. I’ve had short hair before. I can even show you a picture if you want.”

Interviewer: “No, that’s not necessary. I just feel bad you have to cut it.”

I reassured her AGAIN that it was fine. We talked about me some more and she brought it up a THIRD TIME. This time, I actually unlocked my phone and started looking through my pictures, but she stopped me and said it was fine, but she just felt so bad I had to cut it. We took a tour of the facilities and she brought it up a FOURTH TIME. I didn’t know what else to say at this point, so I just sympathized with her for feeling bad for making me cut my hair. Needless to say, I didn’t get the job.