(I am an assistant manager for a comfort footwear company.)

Customer: *over the phone* “Yes, I would like to exchange my [Brand]s for a different pair. I can’t remember what they’re called, and I don’t quite remember when I bought them. I know you have records of this, though; look it up for me!”

(I go to look up her records, but our system has been down all day. Our physical records only go back two months, and I cannot find her name or order.)

Me: “Unfortunately, I cannot find your records in my store, as they only go back so far, and I would be happy to look them up in my system, but it’s been acting up all day and I cannot access it. Can you please tell me anything you remember about your boots so I can see if they are still available to order or if I have them in my store?”

Customer: “Why is your system down?”

Me: “I don’t know. We have been having terrible weather; perhaps—”

Customer: “You guys need to fix it! My boots were brown.”

Me: “Okay… Anything else? Many of our boots are brown.”

(We hardly have any boots in this brand left, anyhow, and I am almost positive we don’t have her style left. She keeps giving me one-word answers, all the time pointedly sighing about how affected she is.)

Customer: “I don’t know why this has to be difficult… I’ve got the shoe box right next to me with the name of the shoe.”

Me: *face palms* “That’s very helpful! What is the name of the shoe?”

(Her shoe has been sold out in our store for at least a month and is no longer available to order in her size in any color. I tell her this, being apologetic and recognizing her frustration.)

Customer: “When are you going to get more? I need new ones! What am I going to do?”

Me: “Since they are all sold out, you may be able to find a replacement on the brand’s general website, or check our other stores in the hopes that one has come back. Do you mind if I ask why you’d like the exchange? Is the shoe damaged?”

Customer: “The suede is two different colors on the boots! I can see it! The right one is lighter than the left one! Everyone says they can’t see it but they’re just so different!”

(I’ve recently joined a book club, and last month a book I needed was checked out of the library, so I had to purchase it. As soon as I find out the book for this month, I use the library’s website to place a hold on the book so I can pick it up before someone else checks it out. I get to the library two days later — the hold is still valid — and don’t see my book on the shelf with the other held items. I go and talk to a library aide.)

Me: “Excuse me. I placed a hold on a book, and I don’t see it on the hold shelves.”

Aide: “Oh, the book might not be here yet.”

Me: “I don’t understand; I checked the library website and it said you had one in stock.”

Aide: “We might, but that might not be the one the computer is using for the hold.”

Me: “I’m not understanding.”

Aide: “When a hold is requested, the computer picks a random library for the book to come from. It might not be from this library.” *checks the computer* “Yeah, it looks like your book is coming from [town 45 minutes away].”

Me: “But you have the book here.”

Aide: “Yes, but your book is coming from the other library.”

Me: “Okay… Can I just check out the one you have here, then, and cancel my other hold?”

(Luckily, I was able to do that. It seems like a really poor system for a library group.)

(My boyfriend says that his parents will be in town for a brief visit in two weeks and have expressed an interest in meeting me. We decide that a quiet dinner at my home would be best, which I don’t mind, as I enjoy playing host. As I’m trying to plan the menu, I keep sending my boyfriend recipe ideas and asking him about his parents’ preferences.)

Me: “Is there any food your parents particularly like or dislike? Do they like spicy food or prefer to keep it mild? Are there any foods they’re allergic to? Do they have any sort of dietary restrictions I should know about?”

Boyfriend: “I’m sure anything you pick out will be wonderful and they’ll love it.”

Me: “Yes, but I also want to be considerate of their tastes.”

Boyfriend: “You’re overthinking it. You’re an awesome cook, and they’ll love whatever you make for them.”

(Realizing I’m not going to get any sort of help, I plan what I think to be a well-rounded menu complete with salad, an appetizer that contains shellfish, a main course featuring beef tenderloin, and a dessert that contains chocolate. Fast forward to the fateful evening; food-wise, everything is coming out looking delicious. I meet the parents, and while they seem to respond favorably to me, I notice between the two of them they’ve barely touched their food. I don’t want to call attention to this fact, but I’m worried something is wrong. They end up excusing themselves early, asking my boyfriend to take them back to his home. He quickly sneaks in a kiss on the way out, saying he’ll call. An hour later he calls.)

Me: “So, is everything all right? Your parents didn’t seem to like the anything I made for them and were wanting to get out of here pretty quickly.”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, the food was a bust for them. We’re at [Nearby Restaurant] right now and they’re getting something to eat. I excused myself to the bathroom to call you really quick.”

Me: “Did I do something wrong?”

Boyfriend: “I thought your food was delicious.” *sigh* “It’s just that… Well, my father doesn’t eat any type of salad except potato salad. My mother is a pescetarian, meaning she’ll eat fish, but not meat, and the only beef my father will eat is ground beef. Not to mention the only types of side dishes he’ll eat are either pasta, potatoes, or biscuits, not vegetables like you made. Oh, and my mother is allergic to chocolate.”

Me: “…”

Boyfriend: “…”

Me: *annoyed* “And you didn’t think any of this information was important enough to tell me when I was planning the menu? I asked you about these things and was told, ‘whatever I make is fine.’”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, I f***** up, didn’t I?”

Me: “Big time.”

(And that’s the story of how I first met — and starved — my in-laws. Since I’ve been with their son, they’ve come to love the dishes I make, as long as I keep their preferences and dietary restrictions in mind.)

Related:
A Recipe For Disaster, Part 6
A Recipe For Disaster, Part 5
A Recipe For Disaster, Part 4
A Recipe For Disaster, Part 3
A Recipe For Disaster, Part 2

(My mother is a wonderful, energetic person who loves helping others. Unfortunately, she also has a tendency to take on way too much and to make things far more difficult than they need to be, while refusing to acknowledge she does this. When I become engaged, and the wedding planning begins, she constantly begs for me to give her things to do. At one point, I tell her I’m making the flower arrangements by hand out of fake flowers, and that my soon-to-be mother-in-law and sister-in-law have offered to help with them whenever I need them. My mother becomes so excited and keeps insisting that we should come visit her house — five hours away — and do the flowers together there. I tell her it’s a great idea, if everyone has a free weekend and doesn’t mind the drive. I ask her to handle coordinating dates with the others where we can all get together. Predictably:)

Mom: “You need to ask the others when they are free and get back to me, and I’ll see when I’m free also, so we can plan a flower-power weekend!”

Me: “Mom, I asked you to do that; don’t you have their numbers? Ask them yourself. It’s a little weird for me to ask them when they’re available and then relay the information back to you. You already have the dates I’m free, and I don’t have time right now to figure out scheduling with everyone. I’m crazy busy doing overtime at work, and wedding stuff when I’m finally home with [Fiancé].”

Mom: “Well, can’t you just ask them and let me know, anyway?”

Me: “No. I asked you to do it; I already said I don’t have time. You wanted to help; this is how you can help. Please, just do it yourself.”

Mom: “Fine. But it would be way easier for me if you just told me when they were free, also!”

(And… you guessed it, the meeting never happens, because my mom never contacts them. I show her how to do group conversations via text and Facebook, even go so far as to set them up for her, and also give her their emails to help her coordinate it, but she never does. I refuse to do it for her as I am so busy and don’t want to hold her hand constantly through what should be an easy process. I eventually HAVE to get the flowers done, so I invite my in-laws to my apartment during a spare weekend we all have, instead of driving hours to my mom’s house. My mom finally responds to my group text invite, after the weekend has passed and she didn’t show. She tells me she was “getting to it” and is mad I “took her job away from her,” and she demands that I now give her other jobs to do, instead. So, I give her a small list of easy things to do, thinking that maybe she just got anxiety about not knowing my future in-laws. I give her this list five months before the wedding. I don’t hear anything from her about the list except, “I’m working on it.” Two months before the wedding:)

Me: “Hi! How’s that list coming? I can’t wait to see your dress!”

Mom: “Oh, I haven’t gotten a dress yet. I want to lose a few more pounds.”

Me: “Oh… Well, do you have one in mind at least? The wedding is really soon, and you need to get one early.”

Mom: “Nope, I haven’t really looked yet.”

Me: “Oh, too busy with the list? I’m sorry, maybe I should’ve given you a smaller one—“

Mom: “No! You didn’t give me enough to do! What else can I do to help?! I want to help!”

Me: “Wow! You finished the whole list? Can you send me pictures? I want to know how it all looks!”

Mom: “Well, I didn’t have a chance to do [item #1] yet.”

Me: “That’s okay; it’s the biggest project I gave you. Do you have it mostly set up? I bet [Aunt] can help if you need extra hands—“

Mom: “No, I haven’t started it at all yet. Or [Item #2 or #3 or #4].”

Me: *long pause* “You haven’t done any of them?”

Mom: “Not yet! I haven’t had time! So, what else can I help with?”

Me: “…”

(Understandably, I was furious that she hadn’t done a thing yet, but was telling me to give her more to do. I quickly called my dad and told him how upset I was and what was going on. Somehow, he got her to realize how little time was left, and she did get it all done! But not without giving me way more anxiety and stress than I needed to have!)

(I work in a medical clinic.)

Me: “If you could fill out this CT form for me, please.”

Patient: “I’ve done this before.”

Me: “Lovely. You should know all the answers, then.”