I have just graduated but don’t have a job lined up yet, so my dad encourages me to apply for benefits in the interim. It’s worth noting that I have partial hearing loss. I also have a very clearly Scottish surname although my voice is very English. I call up and the woman who answers has a Scottish accent from the same area as my family. She asks for my name.

Me: “Of course, it’s [My Name], and I should let you know I’m a little bit deaf, so I’m sorry if I make you repeat yourself a little.”

Benefits Agent: “This should take about ten minutes. First…” *Very fast question I don’t catch*

Me: “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

Benefits Agent: *Patronisingly slow* “When… did… your… last… employment… end?”

Me: “Oh, four years ago. I’ve just graduated from university.”

Benefits Agent: *Very fast and mumbling something*

Me: “I’m so sorry, I didn’t get that.”

Benefits Agent: *Louder and even slower* “What… date… and… year?”

This continues for the next five or so questions. I ask her to slow down slightly, but she always asks really quickly and mumbled first and then loudly and slowly the second time. After the sixth question…

Me: “I really am sorry. Could you please repeat that?”

Benefits Agent: “No.”

And the line cuts. I call back, get a man with a similar accent, and explain what just happened.

Benefits Agent #2: “Oh, dear. Let me have a look at your account… My colleague has left a note here saying that you were rude and mocking about her accent.”

Me: “What? Not at all. I explained to her that I was a wee bit deaf at the beginning, and she continued to speak very quietly and quickly. Then, she was quite rude whenever I asked her to repeat the question. My family is from [Scottish Town] and [Other Scottish Town], so the accent is definitely not the issue.”

Benefits Agent #2: “Hmm, I see. I’ll make a note of that and flag the call for review. We’ll pick up where you left off, though, and I do tend to talk fast. so please tell me to slow down if I’m too speedy.”

The following however many questions took as much time as the six with the previous call handler, and I didn’t have to ask him to repeat a single question. I don’t know if the woman was just having a bad day or what action was taken, but years later, I also worked in a call centre and used both sides of that experience to give the best customer service I could.

Related:
Questionable Behavior, Part 3
Questionable Behavior, Part 2
Questionable Behavior

Customer: “Can I get the Sunday paper?”

Me: “It’s Saturday night, sir. The Sunday paper comes out tomorrow morning.”

Customer: “Oh, but I wanted to see it now. I will be busy tomorrow.”

Me: “Sorry, sir, there’s nothing I can do.”

Customer: “Do you have any spares in the back?”

Me: “No… sir. I didn’t sell out; I haven’t received any because it literally doesn’t exist yet. They’ll come out tomorrow, on Sunday, because it’s the Sunday paper.”

Customer: “Oh. Is that why they call it that?”

Me: “Pretty much.”

Customer: “Well, that’s stupid. What if I wanted to read it today?”

Me: “They’re not time travelers, sir.”

Customer: “Well, they should figure it out! It’s very inconvenient!”

One of my biggest pet peeves is being told to do something that I am already doing. My second biggest pet peeve is being cut off when I am trying to talk. My at-the-time girlfriend did it CONSTANTLY, and it pissed me off to no end.

One day, I am dealing with customer service for a certain delivery company that delivers both food and people.

Me: “Hi. I recently placed a wrong order, which I cancelled, followed by the correct order. I have not yet been refunded. How much longer will it be?”

Company: “We do not issue refunds after two days.”

Me: “I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear. I am not asking for a refund for my second order; that one was fine, no complaints. I am asking about the first cancelled order. I just need to know how much longer it will take for the refund to be processed?”

Company: “Yes, we do not issue refunds after two days.”

Me: “I’m not sure you understand. I cancelled the order within seconds of placing it. The order was never made, never delivered, never happened.”

Company: “Yes. Out of fairness to our restaurant partners, we do not issue refunds after two days. In the future, you should contact us immediately if you want a refund.”

Just then, my girlfriend comes into my apartment. We both live in the same building and have keys to each other’s units, and we’re both used to just coming over when we want.

Me: “So, I’m talking with [Company] customer service, and they’re saying they don’t do refunds—”

Girlfriend: “Just tell them you’re not talking about the second order, you’re talking about—”

Me: “Do not tell me to do what I am already doing!”

Girlfriend: “Just tell them you’re not talking about—”

Me: “Do not tell me to do what I am already doing!”

Girlfriend: “Just tell them—”

Me: “Do not tell me to do what I am already doing!“

Girlfriend: “Just let me talk, just let me talk…”

So, I pause. I let her talk on the off chance that she is going to say something — literally ANYTHING — that is not exactly what I know she is going to say.

Girlfriend: “Just tell them that you’re not talking about the second order, you’re talking about the first—”

Me: *Pointing at the door* “Leave.”

Girlfriend: “But I—”

Me: “Leave.”

Girlfriend: “I just—”

Me: “Leave.“

She made an exasperated sound and finally left. Before she arrived, I was mildly frustrated. After she left, I was so mad I was SHAKING.

She later refused to apologize, even after I spelled out exactly how she had crossed my boundaries while I was literally BEGGING her not to. In fact, she expected an apology from ME. The kicker? SHE is the one that made me cancel the order because she changed her mind after the order was placed!

I am working the closing shift at my café that’s located in a mall. My café is well known for doughnuts, but we also serve specialty coffee: cortados, cup sets, flat whites, etc. We don’t have whipped cream, syrups, etc.

Our doughnuts (and other pastries) are made fresh every morning and driven to the various cafés for the company in the city.

My location closes at 9:00 pm. We’ve been sold out of doughnuts since 3:00 pm or so, and we have a big laminated sign we put on the case when we run out that says this.

It is 8:40 pm.

Customer: “Hey! Are [Café] doughnuts still a thing?”

Me: “Absolutely! Unfortunately, we’re sold out for the day, but we do normally have them.”

Customer: “Okay… what flavours do you have?”

Me: “We have a ton!”

We literally have some twenty-plus flavours and then another eight or so that are gluten-free.

Customer: “Do you have descriptions or anything?”

Me: “If you head onto the [Café] website, you’ll see pictures and descriptions of every flavour.”

He steps back with presumably his girlfriend, and they start looking at the website on their phone. I don’t think too much about it, figuring they just want to see their options for next time. Keep in mind I’m standing at the till, which is directly beside the big, empty display case.

Customer: “Do you have a Boston cream?”

Me: “Usually, yeah! But unfortunately, we’re out of doughnuts for the evening.”

At this moment, I realize the sign has fallen off the front of the case, and because they’re still looking at their phone, I step around the counter to put the sign back up. You know, that one that says we’re all out of doughnuts.

A minute or two passes, and the guy steps forward… and tries to order three different flavours.

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry but unfortunately, we’re out of doughnuts for the evening.”

Customer: “You can’t make more?!”

Me: “…no. We get them delivered fresh every morning. I’m sorry.”

Customer: “That was a waste of time!”

I told this man and his girlfriend three separate times we were out, standing beside a sign that said we were (after I fixed it), and he still had the audacity to get mad at me.

My mother-in-law always insists that Mother’s Day isn’t a big deal and then gets upset when we don’t plan anything for her. The last time we went out for her, we planned a meal at a steakhouse.

Now, [Mother-In-Law] and I do not get along; she often pushes people’s buttons to see how they will react and then gets upset when they get upset. You know, the perpetual victim. I push back and refuse to bend to her pressures.

As the meal started, she ordered an alcoholic drink with fruit pieces in it. The fruit was honestly lacking — half a cherry, a piece of orange, and a chunk of strawberry the size of a dime. She was clearly unhappy, so she told (not asked) the waitress to get her more. In the meantime, she saw that my beer had a slice of orange dropped in it. Instead of asking me for the orange, she reached across the table, stuck her fingers in my beer, and took it.

I stared at her.

Mother-In-Law: “What? I wanted more fruit. Were you going to eat it?”

Me: “Yes, and it’s so gross to reach into someone else’s drink with your bare hands.”

Husband: “We can get you a new beer. Mom, please keep your fingers to yourself.”

Mother-In-Law: “She’s the one being rude.”

Me: “Are you—”

Husband: “I will handle this.”

Mother-In-Law: “If it’s such a big deal, I’ll drink the beer.”

She nodded to my husband as she reached across again and took the beer.

Mother-In-Law: “Obviously you’re not bothered by my other genes being in your space.”

For the rest of the meal, [Mother-In-Law] continued to try to steal from my plate specifically. At one point, she nearly got a fork in her fingers because she was trying to grab the piece of steak I had just cut.

When it came time to pay, [Mother-In-Law] spoke up.

Mother-In-Law: “This is my dinner, so someone else can cover my meal.”

Husband: *To the waitress* “We’ll buy her food, but she is buying the first beer my wife had.”

Mother-In-Law: “Why?!”

Husband: “Because you stuck your fingers in it and you drank it.”

Mother-In-Law: “Yes, but—”

Husband: “So you are paying for it.”

Mother-In-Law: “I’m not paying for anything.”

Husband: “You are. And this is the last meal we will have with you. If you’re going to act feral and childish, we will no longer be in contact.”

My husband handed the waitress enough cash for our meals and drinks (minus the first beer) and a generous tip, and we left. His brother called later to say that [Mother-In-Law] had not only pitched a fit about paying for the extra fruit for her own drink, but she also caused a scene over paying for the beer. Everyone else at the table agreed that they saw her stick her finger in it and then drink it, so she was forced to pay or risk police involvement.

She later posted online about how grateful she was for her wonderful children — everyone except my husband.