Incompetence Calling On Line One

, , , , | Right | January 24, 2018

(My awesome boss is a very butch lesbian who’s very open about her sexuality and has a gender-neutral name. Our office helps students deal with their accounts. On our website’s “contact us” section, our office number is listed under my boss’s name without her title. Here’s how a third of our calls go:)

Caller: “Can I speak with Mr. [Boss]?”

Me: “Maybe I could help you instead. What are you having issues with?”

Caller: “I want to talk to Mr. [Boss]. I know him personally.”

Me: “She’s working on a project right now. Maybe if you tell me the problem, I can help you.”

(Most people will give in and let me or a coworker help them, but some persist.)

Caller: “I need to talk to [Boss]. If you don’t get him now, I’ll tell him later how incompetent you are.”

Me: *sigh* “Can I have your name and student ID?”

(The caller gives me the info.)

Me: “All right, I’m directing you to her line.”


Boss: “Hey, [My Name], why did you forward [Caller] to me? He couldn’t figure out how to submit the financial aid app.”

Me: *internal groaning*

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They’re Not The Brightest Light In The Place

, , , , , , | Right | January 24, 2018

(I work in a bicycle repair shop diagnosing issues. A customer and I are trying to work out the issue with his bike when an older woman pushes her way to the front of the line and starts screaming at me.)

Older Woman: “I can’t use your bloody bathroom! What’s wrong with this place?!”

(I say, “Excuse me,” to my current customer and turn to the woman.)

Me: “What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

Older Woman: “Your stupid lights in the bathroom are reversed.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Older Woman: “I go into the bathroom and the lights are on, and when I flip the switch, it goes dark!”

Me: “Are you sure–“

Older Woman: “I will stand here all day unless you fix it now!”

(I go into the bathroom and flip the switch off, so when she walks in, she’ll flip the light on. After going to the bathroom, she comes back to the desk, and once again interrupts the customer:)

Older Woman: “Here I was thinking you had to be bright to fix one of these bikes. But you don’t even know to get a proper light in the bathroom!”

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Ensuring The Next Generation Is Just As Entitled

, , , , , , | Right | January 24, 2018

(I work at an apartment complex and have had this job for a little less than a year. A great deal of my job consists of being b****ed at by entitled parents, residents, or both. I have received a phone call from a mom who is angry because her son cannot move in until the middle of the month. All new students cannot move in until this date, but are required to pay for the full month because their leases are in a lump sum that is divided into equal payments.)

Me: “Ma’am, we cannot let your son move in early because we would still be preparing his room on that day.”

Mom: “No! This is not okay! No one told my son that! We should have the first month prorated because he can’t move in.”

(The lease he signed and the paperwork he initialed reiterate these points before a customer is done. I’m also pretty confident my student staff members reminded the customer of this.)

Me: “Ma’am, we can’t accommodate that. We don’t prorate because his rate would be more expensive each month after if we did that. His lease acts similar to a loan. We loan him the space, and we take payment in 12 equal instalments.”

Mom: “No! That doesn’t make any sense. I want to speak to a manager!”

Me: “I am a manager.”

Mom: “Then not you. Where’s your boss?”

(My boss recently stepped out for lunch.)

Me: “I’m the manager here right now, and I can assure you that you will get the same response from my boss.”

Mom: “I want the corporate number! What is that?!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. Let me get that for you.”

(I give her the number.)

Mom: “What is your name? I want that, too!”

(I give her my name.)

Me: “Do you need help with anything else?”

Mom: “No!”

Me: “Okay, well, if you have any other questions, let us know. Have a good—”

Mom: “No! No! No!”

(She hung up on me. Gotta love parents and their entitled children.)

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You Have No Experiences Except This Bad One

, , , , , | Working | January 24, 2018

(I’ve been to a few job interviews so far and still can’t get my first job. I’m fresh out of high school.)

Manager: “On your application, it states that you have no job experience.”

Me: “That is correct. I’ve been focused on my school work.”

Manager: “Well, I don’t hire people who don’t have any experience as a server or cashier. I need you to have at least a year of experience.”

(I am too stunned to say anything. Why would you ask me to come here if you weren’t even going to give me a job?)

Manager: “I know I asked you to come here for a job interview, but that’s because I just want to see who you are.”

(He goes through the rest of the questions and I just internally scream.)

Manager: “Well, it was nice meeting you, [My Name]. Hopefully I will see an application from you again.”

(I never did apply there again.)

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Some Customer’s Entitlement Can Just Run You Down

, , , , , | Right | January 24, 2018

(The road to the car-park separates the outdoor section, where I work, from the indoor section. I am standing near the pedestrian crossing, helping a lady choose some plants, when her young child runs off towards the road just as a car is driving up to it. I honestly don’t remember what happens next, but suddenly, I am on the other side of the crossing with the child tucked under my arm and the bumper of the car almost touching my leg. The driver of the car is white-faced and staring at me in shock. The mother of the child catches up with me.)

Customer: “HOW DARE YOU?!”

Me: “Huh?”

Customer: “You could have hurt her, manhandling her like that! Put her down right now!”

(I realise I am still carrying the child. I put her down, and she starts to toddle off, so I hold her shoulder gently until the woman glares at me and I let go.)

Customer: “[Child], are you bruised? Are you okay?”

(The child just babbles and giggles; she obviously isn’t talking much yet. My boss turns up.)

Boss: “[My Name], are you okay?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Boss: “You go and take a break, for as long as you want. I’ll sort this out.” *to the customer* “I’m [My Name]’s manager. Can I help you, ma’am?”

(I heard her start to rant, so I legged it and had a warm drink to calm down. When I got back out, my boss had checked the camera footage. It showed the child running away, and me bursting into a sprint, scooping up the kid, and dashing for the other side of the crossing just inches ahead of the car. He told me she had wanted to press charges for “child abuse,” and he, a new father himself, had torn a strip off her and banned her from the centre. She did, indeed, send a letter of complaint to our head office, but my boss and the general manager backed me up, and she was once again told to get lost.)

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