He Needs A Separate Bag For His Ego

, , , , , | Right | October 13, 2018

(I work at a store specializing in magazines and newspapers. We’re located near the business center of the city, so we get a lot of business people who tend to be haughty or dismissive. One such customer is a regular who usually comes early in the morning.)

Me: “Would you like a bag, sir?”

(The customer has earphones in, and neither looks at me nor answers. I speak a little louder, moving to catch his attention.)

Me: “Sir?”

(The customer takes his purchases and leaves without a word. A few days later, I see him again. My assistant manager is stocking gum packets near the register.)

Me: *suspecting it’ll be a repeat from the other day* “Would you like a bag, sir?”

(The customer still has earphones still in, and never looks at me or answers. My assistant manager notices there was no answer.)

Assistant Manager: “Sir, would you like a bag?”

Me: “Don’t bother, [Assistant Manager]. He never answers.”

(The customer leaves with his purchases, again never saying a word. Later that day, he returns, and flags a coworker, asking to see the manager.)

Customer: “Your clerk was very rude to me!”

Manager: “What happened?”

(The assistant manager spots the customer and comes over, giving her version of the event, as well.)

Manager: “The clerk did exactly what she had to do. You can’t come in here and act like you’re above everyone, ignore them, and then come back to complain when they don’t expect it. If you don’t show respect to my employees, you can buy your newspapers elsewhere.”

(The customer didn’t cause a scene — possibly because the manager was a tall, large man — but his attitude improved radically from then on. It was met with the courtesy and professionalism that had otherwise always been offered to him.)


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Why Is The Cashier Not A Trained Veterinarian?!

, , , , | Right | October 13, 2018

(I am working in a pet shop as a cashier. A flashy-looking woman, with her sunglasses still on, walks in and asks for assistance.)

Me: “Okay, well, I can get someone for you; but I need to stay at the register.”

Customer: “Well, I’m in a hurry; can you just help me?”

(I figure it’s decently slow, so I call for help and decide to assist her until someone arrives. The woman asks various questions about a flea and tick product, so I help narrow it down to the best quality for the cheapest price.)

Customer: “So, how does this product work? How long does it take? How much do I put on my dog?”

Me: “Well, how much does your dog weigh?”

(I want to narrow down the search a bit more.)

Customer: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Well, what kind of dog is it?”

Customer: “I don’t know!”

Me: “Well, we can look at the back of the box—”

Customer: “Well, can I just get someone else to help me? You obviously don’t know what you are talking about!”

Me: “Uh, okay.”

(I look down the main aisle and see a pet care associate, and ask her for help. As I walk away, I can hear the woman asking the associate why I work in pet store if I am that stupid.)

Associate: “Well, our knowledge is based purely on our own experience with animals and some minimal training; she also works at the register as a cashier.”

(Cashiers are also paid less BECAUSE they don’t have unlimited knowledge of animals!)

Customer: “Well, I guess so.”

(The woman came up later and acted like nothing ever happened. I checked her out and I had to be nice because that is my job. My associate came over later and handed me a care card, commending me for holding my tongue, telling me she, sadly, has had people call her worse.)


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You Are Expressly Forbidden To Express Yourself

, , , , | Working | October 13, 2018

(I am working on the express lane, which is fifteen items or less. A lady comes up with a ton of items. I politely tell her that this is the express lane of fifteen items or less. She just stares at me. I am not allowed to “make” anyone leave my line, so I start ringing up her items quickly as I have a line behind her. Her items quickly start to pile up on my smaller-than-average register, which is built for express orders only. The baggers and managers are all standing around, but won’t come help since I am on express and expected to bag my own. Finally, I finish with the lady and bag her groceries; she has a total of thirty-nine items according to the receipt.)

Me: “Have a nice day.”

Lady: “You are so rude!” *stomps off*

(The next day I get called into the office because I had a customer complaint. GUESS WHO FROM? The boss hands me the email she sent in. According to the lady, I scanned her items too fast and she couldn’t see all the prices on the computer, and I seemed angry that I didn’t have someone help me bag her items, and because of this she is never shopping there again. She says that I should have been smiling at all times, and that I needed to check slower so that she could see what I was charging her, since I was probably trying to charge her more.)

Manager: “Why were you so rude to this lady?”

Me: “I wasn’t. I checked her out fast, since she wouldn’t get out of the express line after I told her to, and I didn’t have a bagger, since you made a rule they can’t help on express, even though it wasn’t an express order. And the other manager wouldn’t help, either, even though items were piling up all over the place.”

Manager: “Oh! Well, next time call a bagger, and if they refuse call a manager. We shouldn’t have people with more than fifteen items in express, anyway.”

Me: “So, can I tell them to go to another line?”

Manager:No, that’s rude. We need to have good customer service.”

 

They’re Just One Massage Away From A Meltdown

, , , | Right | October 13, 2018

(I work at a massage clinic and spa where we employ several massage therapists who all set their own schedules. Some work plenty of hours, and others work much more limited time slots, which is why we encourage their clients to book out as far out in advance as possible so they can stay with their preferred therapist. A married couple has just been in, both of them very loyal to one particular therapist who only works weekends and is incredibly popular. Most people, when hearing that [Therapist] is booked out solid for two months, are understandably disappointed but are willing to try a different therapist in the meantime. This customer is not one of those people.)

Me: “It looks like [Therapist] isn’t available until [date two months from now].”

Customer: “What? Are you kidding me? That’s unacceptable!”

Me: “I’m sorry sir. If you’d like, I can put you and your husband on our cancellation list in case anything opens up. In the meantime, we could schedule you with someone else—”

Customer: “No! I refuse to let anyone except [Therapist] touch me! It’s ridiculous that I have to book out that far and have your membership take money from me when I can’t get appointments!”

Husband: *trying to calm his spouse* “We usually book out a couple months out because he’s busy. We let it slip the last few times.”

Customer: “That doesn’t matter! It’s bad customer service! If I ran my business like this, I wouldn’t be in business right now!”

Me: “If you’d like, sir, we could waive your next few payments so you don’t have to worry about your membership fees—”

Customer: *interrupting* “Stop trying to make me happy! You won’t! This is terrible customer service!”

Me: “I do apologize for the inconvenience—”

Customer: *interrupting me YET AGAIN* “It isn’t your fault! But this awful service!”

Me: *internally wondering why he’s yelling at me if this isn’t my fault*

(The customer finally leaves to go smoke. His husband approaches the counter looking embarrassed by the whole incident — as I try not to burst into tears — and books a few appointments out before leaving promptly. My coworker has witnessed the whole thing.)

Coworker: “What does he mean by ‘bad customer service’?! If [Therapist] is booked up that far in advance, it means he’s really good!”

This Bureaucracy Is Killing Me!

, , , , | Healthy | October 13, 2018

(I am working the night shift in a student team. One of our tasks is getting blood and stuff for the operating surgeons all around the hospital. This night a sixteen-year-old boy on a scooter has been hit by a car and is haemorrhaging profusely. I am called to get blood for the blood transfusion that needs to be done. However, due to the fact the boy is being reanimated while receiving a blood transfusion and an operation, there is no time to fill in a form. This is the conversation I have with the man at the blood lab:)

Me: “Hey, I don’t have a form, but I need blood for the sixteen-year-old patient that’s bleeding out downstairs.”

Blood Lab: “If you don’t have the form, you don’t get the blood.”

Me: “But they don’t have the time to fill in a form, as they are operating on him while giving a blood transfusion, and he was just reanimated.”

Blood Lab: “But you don’t have a form.”

Me: “Yes, I know, but the boy is dying.”

Blood Lab: “Well, it’s not my fault if he dies; come back when you have the form.”

(Sir, I know that you were technically right, but is a form more important than the life of a sixteen-year-old boy?!)


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