This One Will Zap Your Appetite

, , , , , | Working | March 30, 2019

My mum told me a story last week about when she was an employee, later a manager, at a big-name fast food restaurant.

At the time, one menu item was a ham and cheese toasted sandwich, but on a burger bun. They would premake a certain number at the start of each day, put them in cold storage, and heat one up each time one was ordered.

Regularly, if registers were busy or something else arose, they would leave the line of half-made burgers lying out, go help out, and then complete the burgers later.

Also regularly, they would get complaints of dead flies in burgers, usually about this specific menu item, rarely anything else.

Turns out, the kitchen had a bug zapper above the prep bench, so when staff would go help out for ten minutes, bugs would get zapped, fall into the half-made burgers, and as the line was made fast, just slapping ham and cheese on multiple burgers in a row, workers wouldn’t notice one dead fly on one random burger on a row of ten or twenty.

I’m happy this chain now makes food to order, and I can actually see my burger being made. And that the restaurant Mum worked at is now closed.

Picky Customers

, , | Right | March 27, 2019

(We had a system glitch overnight that meant that we took payments, but no orders were created, so we have to contact our customers to tell them and ask what they ordered, and manually create the orders for them. Most of them are very easy to sort, except for one. This customer has paid £201.)

Me: “So, if you could just tell us what you ordered, I will get your order on the system and we will get that sent out.”

Customer: “I have no idea what I ordered. Can you just pick some items for me and send those?”

(We carry over 5000 items; I really need some guidance on this.)

Me: “I can try. Could you tell me roughly what sort of thing you got?”

Customer: “I really don’t remember, sorry. Please just pick some things. I trust you.”

(I ran the customer through our basic categories and options. She eventually picked a category and item type. That narrowed down the selection to about 700 items, and again she told me to just pick some stuff for her. I told her I would make an order, email it to her, and wait for her to approve it before we put the item through. I ended up spending about forty minutes creating the order from our most popular items, as we had to make the order amount match as closely as possible to what was paid. She then eventually got back to us and told us that everything was wrong and that she wouldn’t have picked anything I have added, and she demanded a refund for wasting her time.)she

For Those Who Don’t Work, It Just Won’t Work

, , , , , , , | Working | March 27, 2019

The doctor office where I work has lost two front desk receptionists at the same time without a two-week notice. While we are looking for someone to replace both of them, there’s only two of us left to take on the workload of four. That leaves me stressed out until we find the replacement, since my workload has increased substantially.

One day during lunch, I go to a nearby convenience store to pick up some almonds for snacking. I stand at the cash register for a good three minutes, clearing my throat and looking around for somebody to check me out, because I’ve had a god-awful day already, and I really want to have that snack for those days when I can’t even get a lunch. Finally, a sulky woman comes to the front register and immediately complains, “I’m tired of working the register. You people should just stay home.” In a foul mood myself already, I make the statement that I can leave the items there for her to put up later, or she can just check me out, which is part of her job. She takes off her apron and tosses it down, saying, “I don’t even need this job.”

A week later, my office manager is conducting interviews and I see the same woman sitting in the lobby. My suspicions are confirmed when my manager meets with her for one of the front desk positions. After she has left, my manager comments that she is unsure about the candidate and I relate what happened at the convenience store. I also tell my manager, “Maybe she had a bad day, but if she is willing to quit like that, she will leave you in the lurch.”

My manager hired her, anyway, and when she found out how many patients we dealt with in one hour — 30, to her five customers per hour — she quit.

The Perils Of The Shared Inbox

, , , , | Working | March 26, 2019

(I have a coworker who is doing his job terribly. He has a permanent contract, so getting rid of him is not easy, according to my manager. If he doesn’t like doing a chore, he only does it half. He leaves important documents laying about — we have a clean desk policy — doesn’t lock his pc, leaves a heater unattended — fire risk — and even once didn’t close the door of the office building, allowing people to get in an out. One day, I enter the office and notice things lying about once more. While I clean up, my manager enters the building.)

Me: “Good morning, [Manager]. Let me ask. [Coworker] was last to leave yesterday?”

Manager: “How did you know?”

Me: “Well, he left the heater on and these documents… Could you put these documents away for me, please?”

Manager: “Sure!”

(My manager leaves and I set up shop for the day, starting thirty minutes late due to my coworker. I then start looking at the email in a shared inbox; all team members have access to this box. Due to a coincidental misclick, I accidentally click on “sent items” and I notice the top email.)

Email: *from [Coworker] to his private email address* “I will have to decide what to do about [Employee]. She is incredibly hot and I don’t want to lose her. But why does she want me to close? I really want to.”

(What follows next is a quite graphic description of what he wants to do with her in an exotic way. I don’t think the object of his affection is in any danger, but this is really, really too much info and absolutely inappropriate text for the workplace. I call my manager.)

Me: “Hey, [Manager], could you please take a look at the sent items in [shared box]? I’m seeing a rather… personal email from [Coworker], and I don’t really know what to do with this.”

Manager: “All right, what did he send?”

(At first my manager is humming, which he often does, but then he goes silent. I can’t even hear him breathe any more.)

Manager: “All right, [My Name], thank you for bringing this to my attention. I’ll take care of this, but please, don’t mention this to anyone, not even [Coworker].”

(I don’t know if anything will be done about this. My manager deleted or moved the email from the sent box, so no one else will read about it. I don’t mind keeping this silent, since it was most likely a mistake — sent through the wrong account — and it was personal, but boy, I did not want to know all that.)

I’d Like To Order Some Camel Back, And Some Straw To Break It

, , , , , | Working | March 25, 2019

(My family loves the food from a local Chinese place that delivers, although their customer service leaves something to be desired. Once they accidentally double-charged my credit card and refused a refund, only offering a credit to our account. That left a sour taste in my mouth, but since I have the credit, I decide to order again.)

Operator: “Okay, and your card number for the purchase?”

Me: “I should have a credit on my account from last time. Can you look?”

(After about a five-minute wait, they get back on the line.)

Operator: “Okay, it will be there in forty-five minutes.” *hangs up*

(An hour passes so I call to check on the order.)

Me: “Yes, I am just checking on the status of a delivery? It’s been about an hour since I called in.”

Operator: “Hold, please.”

(Another five minutes pass.)

Operator: “Yeah, it’s on its way.”

Me: “But I didn’t tell you my na—“ *clicks*

(Another thirty minutes passes, so I call to tell them never mind.)

Me: “Yes, it’s been an hour and a half, so I’d like to cancel my delivery.”

Operator: “Okay, what’s your name?”

(I tell them.)

Operator: “Hmm, I don’t see any orders placed under your name tonight.”

Me: *laughs incredulously* “Okay, why am I not surprised.”

Operator: “Do you want to place an order?”

Me: “No. No, I don’t. Goodbye.”

(It’s been a few months, and I think this was the straw that broke the camel’s back.)

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