A Long-John Week

, , , , | Right | October 20, 2020

Our chief financial officer comes back from lunch and finds a voicemail on her direct line, originating from an unlisted number. She doesn’t deal with customers directly, so it’s a mystery how the caller even got the number. Each day, a new voicemail message appears, each time while she’s out of the office on her lunch break.

Monday: “Hi, this is John. My Internet isn’t working. Please give me a call.”

Tuesday: “Hi, this is John again. My Internet still isn’t working; please call me”

Wednesday: “Hi, John again! MY F****** INTERNET IS STILL DOWN. CALL ME.”

Thursday: “WHY WON’T YOU MORONS CALL ME BACK?! MY INTERNET IS STILL DOWN. CALL ME BACK! NOW!”

Friday: “What is WRONG WITH YOU?! CALL ME, CALL ME, CALL ME, CALL ME, CALL ME! I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS S***!”

Saturday: “YOU FIX MY INTERNET NOOOOW OR I’M GOING TO… AAAAAAARGH! JUST CALL ME BACK! NOW!”

Sunday: “Please fix my Internet… and please call me back.”

He never left his last name, phone number, address, account number, or any other remotely identifiable info, not even his first name after the initial few calls. We had hundreds of customers named John. He also never bothered to call our 1-800 help desk or customer service numbers, which were plastered all over the website, phonebook, Yellow Pages, and ads. We never did find who was calling.

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For A Talented Pianist, She Never Strikes The Right Tone

, , , | Right | October 20, 2020

I work as a concierge at an assisted living home where most of our residents have some form of dementia. Not all of them have it, though; some are here for other reasons, such as this woman who is here because she can’t properly administer her own medications or care for herself well due to physical medical issues. Her mind is fully intact. She is, however, quite self-entitled due to living a life of luxury in New York City as a concert pianist in her younger years.

Me: *Answering the phone* “[Home], this is [My Name], how can I—”

Resident: *Cuts me off* “I need to talk to the nurse! Now!”

Me: “Are you okay, [Resident]?”

Resident: “I’m fine. I need to talk to the nurse. Immediately.”

Me: “Is there something I can help you with?”

Resident: “No. The nurse. Now!”

Me: “I will tell [Nurse] that you would like to speak with her. Let me see if I can get her on the phone. Can I put you on hold for a moment?”

Resident: “Get her on the phone now.”

Me: “All right, [Resident]. Just a moment.”

I use the walkie and then the phone to try to get a hold of the nurse, who has more than seventy other patients to see to. The entire call, including me trying to get a hold of [Nurse], has taken less than four minutes. I go back to the resident, who is still on hold.

Resident:Finally! [Nurse]? I’ve been waiting on hold for an hour. This is unacceptable!”

Me: “It’s still [My Name], [Resident]. I was unable to get [Nurse] for you, but I will text her and let her know you would like to speak with her.”

Resident:I have been. On hold. For a d*** hour!

I drop into the same voice of superiority that she’s been using, albeit quieter.

Me: “Actually, as of this moment, it’s been four minutes and forty-five seconds according to my call timer.”

The resident is quiet for a moment and then speaks contritely.

Resident: “Just have her speak with me as soon as possible, please.” *Hangs up*

This woman is a trial. But I’ve found that using the same tone of voice she uses gets through to her. For the record, the nurse was able to see her within fifteen minutes of this. And what was the super urgent problem she had? She wanted her doctor’s phone number — something I could have easily helped her with, had she only asked.

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Very Bad Beer-havior, Part 2

, , , , | Right | October 20, 2020

One summer, the company decides to renovate our gas station, with extensive work being done on the outside of the building as well as inside, including new flooring and furniture for our sales floor. This means that we have to close the station for over a month.

On our floor, we have a little bit of everything, from food and drinks to cleaning supplies and hygiene products. During the renovation, everything will be removed from the sales floor, even the freezers.

Our storage space in the back is rather small and everything that does not fit in there will be stored in a container that will be outside for five weeks, without shade, during a hot summer, so the types of things we can put in there are quite limited.

A week before we close, we stop getting our merchandise delivery that normally comes twice a week and we discount many things that will expire soon after we will reopen in an effort to bring our stock down and avoid having to throw things away.

The plan for the reopening is that the furniture will be installed over the weekend, we will all come in and start stocking the shelves on Monday, and we will reopen with a fully stocked store the next evening after we stock our regular Tuesday delivery. But when the furniture is already installed by Friday morning, my managers decide on a change of plan: instead of all of us stocking on Monday, we will start Saturday and work in smaller groups. Since the computers are already running and we will be around anyway, we also open for customers with a limited service: they can get gas and all merchandise that is already on the floor, but nothing else.

I work Sunday morning. The night shift has already finished with the drink coolers, so I get started on the sweets. As many people don’t know we are already open, it’s slow, and even though we get much stocking done, many shelves and displays are still empty. Most customers are understanding and happy that we are already open. Around noon, a regular customer approaches me after checking the coolers.

Customer: “Hey, I can’t find the [Brand] beer!”

Me: “Oh, it’s in the first cooler, second shelf from the bottom.”

I show it to him.

Customer: “No, that’s the bottles. I want the cans! They are your buy-two offer this month!”

It’s the first of the month. I have not read the monthly offers yet as we have not hung up the advertisement posters and the register applies those offers automatically, but as we often have offers like that, I believe him. The spot in the cooler assigned to the [Brand] cans, however, is empty.

Me: “Yes, but as you can see, we are currently out of the cans. I am sorry, but we won’t get a delivery until Tuesday.”

Customer: “Then get me cans from the back!”

Me: “I am sorry, but I can only sell things that are out on the floor already. Also, the coolers are already stocked with all beverages we have right now. We just opened after being closed for over a month and our delivery won’t come until Tuesday, so we are short on some things.”

The customer glares at me, grabs some other cans of beer, and storms off to my coworker’s register. He slams the cans down and glares at him.

Customer: “I’ll have these cans. I wanted the [Brand] cans but you do not have them!”

His voice gets louder with every word and he keeps glaring at us. After he pays and leaves, my coworker turns to me.

Coworker: “What was that about?”

Me: “We don’t have any [Brand] cans right now.”

Coworker: “That’s it? We were closed for five weeks! We open three days early as a courtesy, which allows him to get beer today when almost everything is closed around town, and he kicks a fuss because we are missing one type of canned beer?”

Related:
Very Bad Beer-havior

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Wishing Mom Was As Shy As Her Daughter

, , , , | Learning | October 20, 2020

I teach bike camps to children as a summer job while I’m in high school. After my usual seven-hour shift, I also teach a private lesson to a three-year-old girl.

She is a bit timid, but no big deal; I get shy kids all the time! The mom comes up to me, and I start doing my usual introduction.

Mom: *Interjecting* “I want her to be able to ride without her training wheels by the end of the week so she can ride around our campsite alone.”

I explain that I don’t think that will be possible, as she is very young and shouldn’t be riding alone. She begrudgingly agrees.

Later, I am helping the girl to ride when her mom suddenly starts yelling at me. Keep in mind that her daughter is riding fine.

Mom: “MY DAUGHTER IS SCARED OF YOU! GO HIDE IN A BUSH!”

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am?”

Mom: “YOU HEARD ME! GO HIDE IN A BUSH AND SHE WILL BIKE BETTER!”

For the rest of the week, she insisted I hide for an hour while her daughter glided with her feet on the ground. I will never understand some people. What a waste of money!

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Making Multiple Meals Out Of It, Part 2

, , , , | Right | October 20, 2020

I am a supervisor at a local tourist spot as a food services supervisor, and we have a few different food outlets in the park. Near the very end of the day, a lady comes up to our fish and chips window.

Customer: “I want a four-piece chicken strip combo. I want it split four ways for my four children.

Coworker: “Sure! Since the combo just comes with small fries, that means each of those four portions will include just one chicken strip and a few fries.”

He repeats it a couple of times, but she impatiently tells him that is okay. You can probably see where this is going. When she comes to pick up her order, she is irate.

Customer: “I wanted each of those portions to have at least two strips and small fries!”

She wants all of this, even though she is only willing to pay the price of a single combo. She screams at my coworker, telling him he is incompetent and all kinds of things.

The fish and chips place is in a remote location from the main kitchen, so there is no manager there, just supervisors. She isn’t willing to pay more, though, and my coworker isn’t about to make her more chicken strips and fries for free, so finally he tells her:

Coworker: “This outlet is now closed and if you have any more issues you should take it up with the manager.”

The customer left and he closed the shutter, but then she came around to the side door of the building and screamed at him some more.

Even when they closed the door, she waited for them and followed them across the park when they walked back to the main kitchen… where they were able to meet up with the manager and she was asked to leave the park.

We don’t allow meal-splitting anymore. If customers want something split, we’ll give them plates and knives and they can do their own portions.

Related:
Making Multiple Meals Out Of It

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