You’re Oil, She’s Water

, , , , , | Right | October 14, 2017

(A customer is walking through the spice aisle, looking confused. She looks to be in her late twenties.)

Me: “Miss, can I help you?

Customer: “Yeah… What is this?” *she points to a bottle of olive oil*

Me: “That is olive oil, ma’am.”

Customer: “What does it do?”

Me: “It’s used for cooking, and used on pasta, or dips for bread.”

Customer: “You can cook with it?”

Me: “Yes, you can.”

Customer: “Oh. What is it made from?”

Me: “Olives, ma’am.”

Customer: “Oh… what are olives?”

Taking The Plunge To Customer Service

, , , , , | Right | October 13, 2017

(I work front desk at a hotel. We are very short-staffed and don’t have maintenance or housekeeping 24 hours a day, just one front desk during each shift. This week we have a quite a few softball teams staying with us, and we have already had problems with one of the mothers giving us a hard time. It’s late at night, and I’m the only one working when one of the parents calls down to the front desk.)

Me: “Front desk.”

Mom: “Yes, do you have housekeeping here 24 hours a day?”

Me: “No, I’m very sorry, ma’am, but we don’t.”

Mom: “Oh?! I’ve never heard of that before! At every other hotel we have stayed at, they have 24 hour housekeeping!”

Me: “I’m very sorry about this, ma’am.”

Mom: “Oh, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” *hangs up*

(About 10 or 20 minutes pass before the same room calls back down.)

Daughter: “We need a plunger.”

Me: “Okay, I just need someone to come down here and get it.”

(Our policy is that we aren’t allowed to leave the front desk unless it’s somewhere close by, like the pool area. Sometimes if we are slower, then we can run up to the room and drop stuff off, but since we are right around capacity, we have to stay by the desk to help guests.)

Daughter: “Okay.” *hangs up*

(The same room calls down not even five minutes later.)

Mom: *angrily* “What do you mean that we have to come down and get the plunger?! You already don’t have housekeeping 24 hours, and now you don’t have anyone in maintenance to come plunge our toilet?! This is ridiculous!”

Me: “I’m very sorry about this, ma’am, but I am the only one here, and I’m not allowed to leave the front desk.”

Mom: *sighs angrily* “Fine! I’ll send my husband down!” *click*

(I hope that is the last of it, but the phone rings again less than a minute later, and it’s still the same room.)

Dad: “What do you mean, I have to plunge my own toilet?! There is no way that is going to happen! You are going to come up here and plunge the toilet for me!”

Me: “I am very sorry, sir, but as I said before, I am unable to leave the desk.”

Dad: “This is ridiculous!” *click*

(I call up the GM of the hotel and tell him he has to get here because I am having issues with some guests, and as I am talking to him, the mom from the room comes up to me.)

Me: *moves the phone aside* “How can I help you?”

Mom: “I want to talk to your manager!”

Me: “I am on the phone with him right now, ma’am.”

Mom: “Give me the phone; I want to talk to him.”

(I tell my manager that the mom wants to talk to him, and he tells me to hand her the phone. As I stand there, I can hear the two of them arguing back and forth.)

Mom: *hands me the phone* “You talk. I can’t understand him at all!”

Me: *into the phone* “[Manager], it’s me. She said she can’t understand you.”

Manager: “I will be right there.” *click*

Me: *to the mom* “My manager says he will be right here.”

Mom: “Good, and I’m so sorry about this. I didn’t know it was you that I was talking to on the phone! You have been so nice to us since we’ve been here!”

(Note that I have been working since 3:00 pm and it’s about 10:00 pm right now.)

Me: *almost in tears* “It’s okay, ma’am. I understand.”

Mom: “Oh, no! Don’t cry! It’s not your fault! Here; give me the plunger and we can do it ourselves!”

(I go to the back to get the plunger, while still trying to hold back tears, then hand it to her.)

Mom: “I will be right back with it.”

(She leaves to go plunge her toilet. She and her husband come back down and the husband is pissed.)

Mom: “Give her the plunger back, dear.”

Dad: “No! I want this man to see what he expects us to do!” *raises the plunger like a bat and looks like he is going to swing at someone*

Manager: *rushes into the front desk area, going to get a plunger*

Me: “[Manager], they already did it. They are standing at the front desk wanting to talk to you.”

Manager: “Okay.” *walks to the front desk* “What seems to be the problem?”

Mom: “What’s the problem? You expect us to plunge our own toilet! When we come to a hotel, we expect to be completely taken care of and not have to worry about stuff like that!”

Manager: “Ma’am, you are renting a room from us. If you need a toilet plunged, we have it down here. You just have to come get it.”

Dad: “That’s not right!”

(At this point they were sitting there, arguing about how the manager should have more people on staff. It got so bad that when our security guard came in for the night, the husband got pissed off at him, too! The mom had to force her husband to go upstairs so he didn’t get arrested! That’s what you get for yelling at the front desk for no reason, you jerk!)

Dealing With Humans Is A Lottery

, , , , | Right | October 12, 2017

(I work at a stadium. Across the street is a small mom-and-pop bodega owned by a very nice family from India. I usually eat there because the food is good and cheap, and the location is convenient. On game days, they get slammed with drunk tailgaters walking over from the stadium. This exchange takes place one afternoon on my lunch break.)

Owner: “Hello. How are you today, and what may I get you?”

Me: “I am doing well, sir, and you? It looks like you guys are super busy, so I will just take a [pre-made sandwich]. Thank you!”

(As he hands me my lunch and rings me up, he hands me three lottery tickets.)

Me: “Oh, I don’t need these; I didn’t pay for them.”

Owner: “Take them as a gift, sir. You are literally the only person who has been polite and talked to me as a human being all d*** day!”

(See, kids? It pays to be polite!)

Can’t Sleep Through Bad Service

, , , , , | Working | October 3, 2017

(I’m at a restaurant with my husband and his parents, along with our six-week-old daughter. She is currently happily asleep in her carrier. We’ve been seated and are waiting for our waitress. The waitress arrives, calling everyone “honey” and “sweetie.”)

Waitress: “Oh, what a cute little baby! So quiet.”

Me: *proud* “Yeah, she’s six weeks old. She’s a pretty good baby!”

Waitress: “My kids were never quiet like this! Ain’t she gonna wake up?”

Me: “She just ate, so probably not…”

Waitress: “Maybe when your food comes out she’ll wake up!”

(She then went and got our drinks. She often came back to see if my daughter was still sleeping. When she brought our meals, she SLAMMED my plate down, then checked the carrier. At this point, it was evident that she was TRYING to wake the baby, who was still happily asleep. The kicker came when the waitress brought our bill and actually intentionally reached out and smacked the back of the carrier to try to wake her! The carrier was out of the way, and the waitress wasn’t just reaching for something and accidentally bumped it. Luckily, my daughter continued to sleep. We still tipped, but who insists on trying to wake a baby?! A manager would have been called over swiftly if she had woken up my daughter!)

Not Thinking Inside The Mailbox

, , , , , | Working | September 27, 2017

(I am standing in line at my local post office when I overhear this:)

Man: “There’s been a problem; I’ve put my mail on hold, but it’s still being delivered.”

Worker: *interrupting him* “Yes, your mail was delivered to your mailbox.”

Man: “My mail was put on hold because I don’t have a mailbox right now.”

Worker: “Well, you should have been issued a temporary city-given one.”

(In our city, if a mailbox is damaged, it will be replaced by the city.)

Man: “No, I don’t have a mailbox, temporary or not. And now I’m looking for a week’s’ worth of mail.”

Worker: “The mail was delivered to your mailbox!”

Man: “The mail that should have been on hold was delivered to the mailbox I don’t have.”

Worker: “I’m sure the delivery person was just trying to be nice!”

Man: “By delivering my held mail to a mailbox that’s not mine?”

(Throughout this entire conversation, the post office worker continued to walk in circles about the mail, which should have been held, being delivered to either a mailbox that didn’t exist or to the wrong one. No apologies were given, either, and no ETA was given on the missing mail.)

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