DO NOT REMOVE PHONE FROM YOUR EAR – LIKE EVER

, , , , , | Right | June 18, 2018

(It’s a slow night and I’m the cashier at [National Drug Store Chain]. A woman comes in and walks around for a few minutes on her phone. She eventually comes to the checkout counter with cat litter and a cream-filled chocolate egg. She’s still on the phone.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, that’s $9.79.”

(Still on the phone, not paying attention, she swipes her credit card. The credit card terminal beeps, alerting me that her card is equipped with the chip thing.)

Me: “Go ahead and insert the chip for me.”

(It should be noted for the non-Americans that the chip-reader is a new-fangled thing over here. I know it’s been around for decades elsewhere, but here it’s only been around for a few months and most people still can’t figure it out.)

Customer: *still on phone, inserts chip* “Yeah, I’m here at [Rival National Drugstore Chain across the street] getting kitty litter and chocolate.”

(She is clearly not paying attention to the credit card terminal’s dire warning of “DO NOT REMOVE CARD,” so she removes her card. A man is now standing behind her in line and the computer is not responding, thanks to her idiocy.)

Me: *loudly, so the other customer knows what happened* “Yeah, you removed the card too early, so I have to reboot the computer and wait for the manager to sign me into the other register.” *on intercom* “[Manager] to the front, please.”

(The manager is busy upstairs in the stockroom, so it takes him a solid three minutes to come to the front.)

Customer: *to her phone* “This is unbelievable! The friggin’ cashier at [Rival Drugstore] can’t figure out how to ring me up for these two little things. I’ve been standing here forever.” *she wanders around*

(The manager finally shows up, and I sign in and check out the man behind her in line, since the woman is a good fifteen feet away.)

Me: *loud enough for the woman on the phone to hear* “I’m so sorry for the wait, sir, but some people don’t know how to read stuff like, ‘DO NOT REMOVE YOUR CARD.’”

(The customer was STILL on her phone, but very quietly paid and slunk out.)

Might Have To Come Back Anyway For Stress

, , , | Healthy | June 16, 2018

(I work at the main information desk of a hospital. A fast-food delivery man comes inside with a bag of food.)

Delivery Man: “Is this the front desk?”

Me: “Yes, it is!”

Delivery Man: “Great. I’ve got an order for [Customer]. Their instructions said to meet them at the front desk, and they just got a text saying I’m here. I’m going to wait for them to come down, okay?”

Me: “That’s fine.”

(Several minutes go by. No one comes down. The delivery man begins to get irritated.)

Delivery Man: “You’re sure this is the front desk?”

Me: “Yes, sir. There are other desks in [departments], but this is the main, front information desk.”

Delivery Man: “Well, why isn’t [Customer] here?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know. Do you know if they’re a patient or a visitor?”

(The delivery man is now on his phone and not paying attention to me.)

Delivery Man: “I just don’t understand! My instructions say to meet [Name] at the front desk of [Brand] Inn!”

Me: “I’m sorry, did you say the [Brand] Inn?”

Delivery Man: “Yeah.”

Me: “That’s a hotel.”

Delivery Man: “Yeah.”

Me: “This is a hospital.”

(He looks around, apparently noticing the “TO EMERGENCY ROOM” sign, the pharmacy, and the several rows of wheelchairs around my desk for the very first time.)

Delivery Man: “CRAP!”

(He runs out of the lobby, leaving the drinks from the meal behind. He returns about five minutes later, grabs them, and runs out without saying anything. About two hours later, he returns with another order.)

Delivery Man: *sheepishly* “I’m in the right place this time. I checked.”

Me: “That’s good!”

Delivery Man: “Is [Man] here?”

(I look around. There are no men in the lobby.)

Me: “Sorry, I guess not.”

Delivery Man: “What?! My instructions say [Man] is waiting in the Women and Infants Services lobby! He’s supposed to already be here!”

Me: “Well… The Women and Infants Services lobby is down that hallway to the right, actually. This is the front lobby—”

Delivery Man: “So I’m in the wrong spot again?”

Me: “Well, the wrong department—”

Delivery Man: “G**d*** it! I thought this job would be easy!”

(He stormed out of the lobby and stomped off to the correct department. At least this time he remembered his drinks!)

No Chicken Shall Bite On The Day Of Rest

, , , , | Right | June 15, 2018

(It is a Sunday afternoon, and the restaurant that I work at is right next to a fast food place which is well-known for being closed on Sundays. I’m working the drive-thru station when a woman pulls up and starts ordering multiple high-priced items.)

Me: “What else can I get for you today?”

Woman: “An order of chicken bites.”

(I turn and shoot my manager a look, as she also has a headset on and is hearing the entire conversation.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but we don’t carry chicken bites.”

Woman: “I want an order of your eight-piece chicken bites.”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t have chicken bites. We have only have chicken strips. We do have jalapeño bites, though, that come in an eight-count.”

Woman: “I want chicken bites.”

(At this point, my manager uses her headset to join the conversation. She repeats what I already told the woman and lists off a couple other menu items that the woman may be trying to order.)

Woman: “I was just here last week, and I got the chicken bites.”

Manager: “Ma’am, we have never carried chicken bites. We serve chicken tenders and chicken sandwiches, but not chicken bites or nuggets.”

Woman: “Cancel my order; I thought this was [Fast Food Place next door]!”

(I voided out her entire order, and she drove past the window to get to the parking lot for the other restaurant. From where I was, I could see her pull up to the front of the restaurant and realize that it was closed. She then came back through the drive-thru of my restaurant and ordered the same things she had just had me void off.)

A Large Number Of Number Calls

, , , , | Right | June 15, 2018

(I own a used auto parts store, primarily operating off of eBay. On the top of every listing in the “Condition” area, there is a disclaimer telling the customer that the only way to get the correct unit is if they match their part number off their unit with the one I am selling. There is another disclaimer in the “Description” area. There is another disclaimer on the very bottom in an area marked “Compatibility,” and there is a giant button on the right of the screen saying, “Will This Unit Fit My Car,” which takes you to a page telling you that you have to match the part number in order to make sure the part is correct for your car. I get this phone call more than once a day:)

Me: “Hello, [Store].”

Caller: “Yes, I see your listing you have on eBay for [part].”

Me: “Okay.”

Caller: “I want to know if it will match [Car].”

Me: “Does the part number match with the number off your original unit?”

Caller: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Well, that will be your first step; you need to match it up in order to make sure it will fit your car.”

Caller: “What I have is a [year, Make, and Model].”

Me: “Sure, but you still have to match the number. This unit might be for a car with different options than yours.”

Caller: “Mine is a [transmission option] with [trim].”

Me: “You still have to match the number to know if it will work.”

Caller: “Well, my VIN is [a thousand letters and numbers].”

Me: “You would have to match the number on the part.”

Caller: “Which number is that?”

Me: “The manufacturer’s part number… of the part.”

Caller: “And where is that located?”

Me: “On the part in your car that you’re looking to replace.”

Caller: “So, this part here you’re selling online will not match my car?”

Me: “It might, or it might not. The only way to know would be to match the number.”

Caller: *incredulously* “All righty… Bye-bye.” *click*

(MORE… THAN… ONCE… A DAY.)

From Jersey Shore To Shore

, , , , | Right | June 15, 2018

Me: “Hello, [overseas US Military Hotel]; how can I direct your call?”

Caller: “Oh, you speak English.”

Me: “Yes, this is an American military hotel you are calling.”

Caller: “Wow, your English is really good!”

Me: “Yeah, I’m from New Jersey.”

Caller: “You don’t even have an accent!”

Me: “…”

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