My oldest cousin is eighteen years older than me, and her children are within ten years of my age.
I’m babysitting them one day when the youngest, about six years old at the time, pulls out his little collection of Lego he brought to play with.
Me: “Oh! Super cool! You’ve got Lego with you!”
He looks up at me like I’ve grown an extra head.
Cousin: “You know what Legos are?! But you’re old!”
Ouch, kid.
At one point during college, I worked as a Saturday delivery driver for a mini-chain of local auto parts delivery stores. I got the job because my father worked there for many years, and we’d known the owner for quite some time. After a few weeks of working there, plus my usual part-time job and classes, my give-a-f***-o-meter had broken.
One delivery stands out as notable.
Me: “Here are your items. Please check and sign the invoice.”
Customer: “Thanks. These took a long time to get here.”
Me: “Really? When did you order them?”
Customer: “Like three to five days ago. [Dad] took my order.”
Me: *Trying not to grin* “Oh, that guy? Yeah, I’ve dealt with him.”
Customer: “Yeah, he can be a pain.”
Me: “Let’s do something about it.”
I took out my cell phone and called my dad.
Me: “Hey, [Dad], I’m delivering to [Customer], and he says you’re slow at getting the order filled and that he made it several days ago.”
Dad: “Oh, he’s pulling that again? He put it in late last night, I saw it this morning, and he got added to the deliveries list.”
Me: *Loudly* “Oh, okay, thanks for the clarification.” *To the customer* “My dad says you put that one in last night.”
Customer: “Oh… I… Yeah, I guess I did.”
He never pulled that again.
Customer: “I don’t really like reading, and all these words. Do you have this book but, like, as a comic? I remember I liked comics as a kid.”
Me: “I don’t think they made that book as a comic, sir.”
Customer: “How do you know? Can’t you check?”
Me: “I’m pretty sure Trump: The Art Of The Deal hasn’t been turned into a graphic novel, sir.”
Customer: “That’s the problem with all you bookstores these days! You expect people to like reading!” *Storms out*
I was the only girl working at a family-owned hardware store. It was a quaint little place, and I got along with my coworkers. They looked out for me at times. One time, though, a coworker didn’t.
I was made to work the checkout every day (a story for another time), so I dealt with every single customer that ever came in. One day, an old guy came in who could’ve been my grandfather’s age. He came to check out.
Me: “Are you part of our rewards program, sir? And if not, would you like to join?”
During this interaction, two of my coworkers were with me. [Coworker #1] was at the register taking care of something next to me, but both guys heard what the customer said. This old man looked at me and said:
Customer: “Well, that depends. Is the reward a kiss from you? If not, I don’t want it.”
And then he burst out laughing.
I was eighteen working this job but looked fifteen half the time. (Good genes!) I was embarrassed and uncomfortable and turned to [Coworker #1] for help. But no, he started laughing and joked with the old guy about how red my face was turning.
The customer left, and I moved toward [Coworker #2] to help him with the job he was doing. [Coworker #1] left for another section of the store and [Coworker #2] turned to me.
Coworker #2: “Are you okay? That was uncomfortable. Do you mind if I step in if that happens again? [Coworker #1] didn’t help at all!”
I was so happy that at least someone realized I was uncomfortable. That was only one of many times that I wanted to quit working there.
My mom works in a customer service position that helps veterans and sometimes active-duty service members. She basically just directs them to websites, phone numbers, and resources they need to do certain things.
The funny thing is, my mom can be an entitled “the customer is always right” type (she’s the same mom from this story). She wholeheartedly believes that you should know every detail of your job and the product you sell even if it’s a part-time minimum-wage job that you’re working seasonally while still in high school.
Sometimes she isn’t a total nightmare to go places with, but sometimes it’s pretty funny when she just does not give a f*** about other people’s feelings and it’s not at the expense of some poor worker but rather another difficult person.
Mom receives a call from a man who claims to be a high-ranking officer. When she tells me this story, she doesn’t remember what his question was, but as is required, she must open a “case” for him before she can do anything, which includes receiving his first and last name and phone number in case the call gets disconnected.
Mom: “Thank you for calling [Customer Service]. How can I help you?”
Officer: “I just have a question I need you to look up for me about [subject]. I’m trying to prove something to my friend here.”
Mom: “Sure thing! I’ll have to start with your first or last name, and your phone number in case we get disconnected.”
Officer: “What? Why the h*** do you need that? I just need you to answer my question.”
Mom: “And I can very well do that for you. But I won’t be able to look anything up until I have your name and number.”
Officer: “That’s ridiculous! I just need you to look up [information] about [subject]! Why is that so hard?! You don’t need my name for that!”
Mom: “I won’t be able to—”
Officer: “Listen! I am an officer of [Military Branch]. I make more money in a week than you make in a year! You don’t need my name; you just need to tell me what I want to know!”
Mom: “I understand that, but I won’t be able to do anything without your name.”
Officer: “YOU DON’T NEED MY NAME TO LOOK SOMETHING UP FOR ME! I JUST NEED TO TELL MY FRIEND HERE THAT HE’S WRONG, BUT I DON’T HAVE THE INFORMATION ON HAND! I OUTRANK YOU; DO YOU REALIZE THAT? I CAN HAVE YOUR JOB IN MINUTES WITH A SINGLE PHONE CALL, AND—”
Cue more cursing, threats, and rank-waving. Eventually, the guy stops to take a breath.
Mom: “…Are you done?”
Officer: “YES!”
Mom: *Cheerfully* “Okay, I’m just gonna need your name first.”
Officer: *Click*
It is here my mom reveals to me that her training supervisor was listening on another line, considering this was just her second day on the job.
Supervisor: “Wow, you’re a lot better than I am… I would’ve hung up on him.”
Mom: “I thought it was funny.”
I’m not sure if this job will humble my mom or force her to live up to her own expectations of customer service. I guess we’ll see.
Related:
Mom On A Cold Tin Roof
