This Will Be The Day That I Rye

, , , | Right | January 8, 2020

(I work at a bakery inside of a large grocery store, where we bake our breads from scratch every day. As a result, sometimes we don’t have all of our breads ready by the time the store opens.)

Customer: “I’m looking for some rye bread.”

Me: “I’m sorry, they haven’t been baked yet, but they’re the next breads to go in the oven. It’ll be about an hour before they’re baked and cool enough to put into a bag. If you have a lot of shopping to do, or live nearby, you’re welcome to come back then, or we can take an order for you today to make sure we have one ready for you the next time you come in.”

Customer: “I’ll be back.”

(Ten minutes later:)

Customer: “I’m back for my rye bread.”

Me: *checks the clock* “Sorry if I wasn’t clear before, ma’am. The rye bread has just gone into the oven now, so it will be almost an hour, about fifty minutes, until it’s done baking and has cooled down enough to bag or slice for you.”

Customer: *sighs and walks off*

(Finally, the customer comes back when the rye bread is ready.)

Me: “Welcome back, ma’am! All our rye bread is ready. Which kind did you want?”

Customer: “Which one is fresher?”

Me: *losing my patience* “They’re all still warm.”

Customer: “Well, what kinds do you have?”

Me: “We have it with or without caraway seeds in both regular and deli-style.”

Customer: “Deli-style with seeds.”

Me: “Great! Did you want that sliced?”

Customer: “Yes! This is an awful lot of questions for a loaf of bread!”

(I sliced her bread and was happy to send her on her way. Maybe next time, she could try not to blame the person behind the counter for her total inability to listen and get the concept that if she doesn’t know exactly what she wants, she’s going to get asked questions until we can figure it out. I won’t hold my breath.)

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Not Ready For Some Hot Sales

, , , | Right | January 7, 2020

Me: “Hello, how may I help you?”

Customer: “Gimme some nachos with cheese.”

Me: “I’m sorry, we just made a fresh batch of cheese, and it’s not hot yet.”

Customer: “Oh. Well, then, gimme a Frito pie with just cheese.”

Me: “We just made a fresh batch of cheese, and it’s not hot yet.”

Customer: “Oh. Well… can I get cheese on some fries?”

Me: “Cheese isn’t hot yet.”

Customer: “D***.” *walks away*

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They Have Been Complaining Of Late

, , , , | Right | January 6, 2020

(I work at a store that is known for its customer service. I am working at the customer service counter and it is ten minutes before my very long shift is about to end. An elderly lady storms up to the counter carrying a statement for our store credit card.)

Me: “How can I help you? Do you have a payment?”

Customer: “I have a complaint. I paid this bill the day it was due and I was charged a late fee.”

Me: “Okay, I will tell you there isn’t anything that we can do in the store. We don’t have the power to change anything about your charge card. There should be a phone number on your statement that you can call. I understand that they are really good about taking care of these things.”

Customer: “I have never had this happen before, I have never paid a bill late, and if this does not get taken care of, I will never come back here again.”

Me: “I’m sorry for the inconvenience; I know this is very frustrating. Please call that number and let them know what happened. We have a phone down here that you can use if you would like.”

Customer: “I don’t want to call right now. I want to know why it happened and get the charge removed.”

Me: “May I see your statement? The phone number is right here and I see that you have a receipt from paying in the store. I don’t understand why it was late because it should have posted immediately.” *looks closer at the receipt and the statement* “Ma’am, I see here that your bill was due on the 22nd—”

Customer: “YES! I PAID IT THAT DAY AND THEY CHARGED ME A LATE FEE!”

Me: “Well, according to your receipt, you made the payment on the 25th.”

(The customer snatches paper out of my hands and glares at it.)

Me: “I would still call that number and see if anything can be done, especially since this is the first time this has happened.”

Customer: “I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! I WILL BE TAKING MY BUSINESS ELSEWHERE IF THIS DOESN’T GET RESOLVED, AND I SPEND A LOT OF MONEY HERE!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I understand that it is frustrating. Please call that number as soon as possible and ask them if there is anything they can do. Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

Customer: “I need to make this return.”

(I process the return quickly and credit her account. I have remained pleasant throughout the interaction, despite her attitude.)

Me: “Here is your receipt of the return. Again, I am sorry for the inconvenience with your payment. Have a nice day.”

Customer: *glares at me and leaves without saying anything*

Coworker: “You ready to go home?”

Me: “Yes, please.”

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Time To Make A Clean Break For It  

, , , , | Working | January 6, 2020

(My friend is doing some work for another window cleaner who is recovering from an operation. She has recruited me to help her with his jobs so that she has time for hers. It’s around 7:45 am. We have cleaned the outside windows of a store and a staff member now arrives meaning that we can get the insides done in time for them to open at 8:00.)

Me: “Good morning.”

Staff Member: “Good morning.”

(She unlocks the door and we attempt to follow her in.)

Staff Member: “You’ll have to wait.”

(Assuming that she has to turn off an alarm, we wait a few moments and then open the door again.)

Staff Member: “No, you can’t come in. We’re not open yet.”

Me: *looking at our high-visibility shirts, buckets of water, and poles to reassure myself* “Um, we’re not here to shop.”

Staff Member: “Oh, I’m sorry! Hey, do you have water there?”

Friend: “Yes…?”

Staff Member: “Because there’s a mark on the outside wall that I can’t get off. I think it’s wee. Could you clean that while you’re here?”

Both Of Us: “…”

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Scrub That From Your Memory

, , , , | Right | January 6, 2020

(I’m a nursing student in my brightly-colored scrubs visiting the supermarket, getting snacks for my overnight clinical time. The uniform here is a blue polo and pants, and I’m in a very obviously different color head to toe, with an ID plainly labeled “Student.” As I’m speed-walking up this aisle, a very tall man stops me with his hand on my shoulder.)

Customer: “Excuse me, where are your protein bars?”

Me: “I don’t work here.” *immediately tries to keep going*

Customer: “Um, sorry if you’re off the clock or something, but is it seriously that hard to tell me where protein bars are, really quick?”

(His wife taps him on the shoulder and quietly tries to tell him I’m not an employee, but he grabs her hand and throws it off of him. His wife gives me a woeful look.)

Me: *firmly* “I do not work here! These are scrubs. I’m trying to go to the hospital right now!”

Customer: “Look, seriously, just tell me where the protein bars are! It’s ten seconds of your life, and you could already have told me where they were and been on your way if you hadn’t been so rude.”

(He’s not shouting but he’s getting in my face and blocking my way to the canned coffees, and he’s much bigger than me. It’s here that I promptly lost my s***.)

Me: “Are you stupid or something? I’m in bright [color] scrubs with a school patch, and I have a student ID on my chest—” *shoves it in his face* “—and a stethoscope around my neck! What part of what I’m wearing suggests to you that I work in a [Supermarket]? And what part of your behavior right now is at all acceptable for a grown adult? I DON’T WORK HERE! GET OUT OF MY WAY!”

(I’m almost shouting in sheer nervousness; this guy is a giant.)

Customer: *stares at me for a moment* “OH! There they are. I’m sorry, they’re right here!”

(He was actually staring past me, at the protein bars right behind me on the shelf. He instantly brightens and calms down.)

Customer: “Sorry, I really wasn’t paying attention; it’s been a long day. Have a good break!”

Me: *thinking* “You should visit your optometrist, you big, blind brat.”

(I had very little time so I just snagged my coffees and sped out. I’m in bright, solid-colored scrubs and I look very like a nurse; how do you mistake that for a grocery clerk?)

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