Finding That Book Is A Fantasy

, , , , | Right | August 7, 2018

(I work in a small library.)

Customer: “Where is your fantasy section?”

Me: “Are you looking for graphic novels or regular books?”

Customer: “Just show me the fantasy section.”

Me: “I’m sorry. We don’t have a separate section for fantasy; it will just be in general fiction.”

Customer: *looking exasperated* “I’m looking for a book I was reading a couple of years ago.”

Me: “Okay, I can look it up for you on the computer; what was it called?”

Customer: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Who was the author?”

Customer: “I can’t remember.”

Me: “Umm…”

Customer: “It was a fantasy book, and I’d know it if I saw the cover, so I need a fantasy section.”

Me: *thinking on my feet* “Can you give me an idea of the plot? I can ask a couple of colleagues if they can help.”

Customer: *yelling* “I don’t know. I just want to see the cover! Why don’t you have a fantasy section?”

Me: “Because this is small library run entirely by volunteers, and we don’t have space for one. Have you thought about going into the city centre library and asking there? Or looking in a bookshop?”

(The customer stomped off, muttering something about paying council tax for libraries. Don’t think she got the point about us all being unpaid volunteers.)

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Shampoo-Pooing All Over Your Service

, , , | Right | August 7, 2018

(I work in a hotel. It is around two am, and a man checks in. He seems okay, until I hand him his keys.)

Guest: *very demanding tone* “Now, listen to me. I want—” *grabs our business card and scribbles all over it* “—twelve shampoos, six towels, five bar soaps, one trash bag, four shower caps, five tissue boxes, four lotions, and five water bottles. All in the trash bag. And I want them now, to be sent to my room.” *thrusts business card at me*

(At this point, I’m wondering why he didn’t write it on the back of the card, since there’s printing on the front, but I hold my tongue.)

Me: “Okay, sir, I will tell the security guard to bring them to your room, since room service has ended.”

(He looks a little disappointed that I won’t be bringing it to his room — I’m a female — but he smirks and leaves for the elevator. I summon the guard and tell them what to bring and where, and he leaves. After a short while, the phone rings and it’s the demanding guest, very angry.)

Me: “Hello—”

Guest: “What is this?! I wanted the items to be put in the trash bag, not out!”

Me: “I’m sorry about that, sir. Let me ask the guard—”

Guest: “Go ahead! Ask! I’m not lying! Are kidding me right now?!”

(After confirming with the guard, I go back to the phone.)

Me: “Yes, the guard said that he didn’t put the items in the trash bag. Again, he and I apologize. Would you like it to be resent?”

Guest: *angrier* “DUH! I WANT IT ALL TO BE RESENT TO MY ROOM! ALL OF IT! ON THE DOUBLE!” *hangs up violently*

(I sent the guard to get another pack of items he wanted, and this time the guard put it in the bag like the guest wanted. The guest was all peaches and cream after that.)

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These Coupons Are All Pie In The Sky

, , , , , | Working | August 7, 2018

(My mom gets a coupon for a restaurant that states if you buy one entree you get the other free. It’s Wednesday, and my mom and I decide to use the coupon. As we walk in, we see several signs stating that they offer one free slice of pie to all customers on Wednesdays. We show our coupon to the waitress and order our meals. When we are both almost done with our entrees, the waitress comes back.)

Waitress: *without any explanation* “What slices of pie did you two want?”

Me: “We’ll just share a slice of the French silk pie.”

(My mother and I don’t like pie that much, but hey, it’s free. She brings it out, and after she walks away I notice there is some hard crusty food stuck to my fork. We use my mom’s fork, instead, and each take a bite and decide we don’t like it. The waitress comes back with the bill ,and we notice that one of the entrees wasn’t taken off.)

Mom: “Excuse me? One of the entrees should be free; we have a coupon.”

Waitress: “I can only apply one discount. You chose the free pie discount, instead.”

Mom: “What? You didn’t explain to us that if we ordered the pies we couldn’t use the discount. We thought that was something separate.”

Waitress: “Well, I’m sorry but you got the pie; there’s nothing I can do for you.”

Mom: “We wouldn’t have ordered the pie if we had known we couldn’t get the free entree. We both only took a bite!”

Waitress: “You’ll have to go up front and speak to the manager if you want to dispute your bill.”

(We go and explain the situation.)

Manager: “I’m sorry, but it says in the fine print of the coupon that it can not be used with any other discounts.”

Me: “We didn’t know the free pie was a discount; we thought it was just a weekly special.”

Mom: “We didn’t even like the pie. Can you please just comp us?”

Manager: “I’m sorry, but—”:

Me: “Look. The fork I was given had food on it. It wasn’t even clean. I didn’t want to make a fuss, but this is ridiculous. Can you please just take the pie off the bill and let us use the coupon?”

Manager: “All right, I’ll take it off the bill. Ma’am, I’m sorry you didn’t read the fine print, but I will not tolerate you making up lies about my staff to get what you want.”

Me: *speechless*

Mom: “Just let me pay for my entree. We won’t be coming back.”

(The manager silently fixed the bill, and my mom and I paid and left without another word. Now when my mom gets coupons for that restaurant in the mail they go straight in the garbage.)

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Cultural Mansplaining

, , , , | Right | August 7, 2018

(Four Caucasian customers enter the restaurant and get promptly seated. They are served immediately by the restaurant’s Chinese staff and place orders. One customer has spent some years in Beijing.)

Caucasian Customer: “…and white rice for everyone, please.”

(Moments later, when dishes are brought out:)

Chinese Server: “Here is a bowl of rice for you all.”

Caucasian Customer: “Uh, pardon me, but shouldn’t we each get a small bowl of rice rather than a giant bowl for us to share?”

Chinese Server: “I’m sorry, but our restaurant policy is for a large, shareable bowl for parties of three or more. However, I can go back and bring you guys each a separate bowl of rice, if you’d like.”

Caucasian Customer: “No. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just surprised that you guys don’t give separate bowls of rice by default.”

Chinese Server: “I’d be happy to—”

Caucasian Customer: “No, that’s okay. I just want you to know that it’s how rice is served in China.”

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Will Fedex Them The Medical Bill

, , , , , | Working | August 7, 2018

(As tech support for the office, I go into the server room one day and see two of the Uninterruptible Power Supply [UPS] units are showing battery condition warning lights. As these protect vital machines, I order two new batteries to be delivered overnight. UPS batteries are, in this case, sealed lead-acid units, weighing almost thirty pounds each. Next morning, I’m in reception, waiting for them, but someone calls with an urgent tech support issue. While I’m on the phone, a delivery driver walks in, and in almost a mime act, carefully places a deceptively small package on the counter.)

Delivery Driver: “These are UPS batteries, so be careful with them.”

Receptionist: “I don’t care what courier firm you’re from; there’s no special treatment here.”

(The driver was probably in a rush, so he didn’t stop to argue, but was on his way as soon as he was handed the signed delivery note. With a final, “Tsk!” the receptionist grabbed the plastic carrying handle on the package and pulled it off the counter. Her shriek as several pounds of plummeting battery nearly dislocated her shoulder was impressive.)

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