Unfiltered Story #108206

, , , | Unfiltered | April 2, 2018

(I work in a small bulk grocery/restaurant supply store that has ‘Food Service’ in its name. This is key to the story as with most retail establishments we greet customers on the phone with the full name of the store.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [store name]. This is [My Name]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Hi. I was in y’alls store the other day trying to make an appointment with one of your representatives and I had to leave before we could get anything set up. Is there any way I can schedule something over the phone?”

(Despite us being a grocery store, this question isn’t too out of the ordinary as we do have sales reps that make appointments with potential customers to set up truck deliveries. I’m assuming that’s what this is about.

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I can pass along your information to a manager and we’ll get that taken care of. What was this appointment regarding?”

Customer: “Well, I dropped my iPhone 6 the other day and now it won’t charge when I plug it in. My contract is up next month and—”

(I don’t hear the rest of the woman’s spiel as I have to turn away from the receiver to keep from laughing. One of my coworkers standing nearby can tell I’m trying not to lose it and is giving me an inquisitive look. I manage to compose myself just as the customer is done ranting.)

Me: “Uh, ma’am, I’m sorry but you have a wrong number. We’re [store name], not [wireless carrier].”

Customer: “Who?”

Me: “[Store name], ma’am.”

Customer: “Oh, sorry.” *click*

(I hang up the phone and burst out laughing.)

Coworker: What the hell was that about?

Me: Some woman apparently thought we could fix her iPhone…Seriously, did she not hear me say [Store Name] during that introduction? What are we going to do? Add an app that turns her phone into a condiment dispenser?

Want It To Excess

, , , , , | Working | February 19, 2018

(It’s early in the morning but I see a [Fast Food Place], and I get hungry for my favorite ice cream dessert, a chocolate-dipped cone, and go inside.)

Me: “A medium, chocolate-dipped, vanilla cone, please.”

Employee: *goes to stir the chocolate used for dipping* “This hasn’t been turned on long; it might not be ready yet, but I’ll give it a try.

(The employee dips the cone in and pulls it out with a MASSIVE chocolate coating, much more of than I’ve ever seen before. I immediately fantasize about biting into such incredibly thick chocolate.)

Employee: “I don’t think this will work.”

(They turn the cone upside down over the chocolate warmer and shake it to remove excess chocolate. But, the weight of the chocolate causes the whole ice cream top to break off from the cone and fall into the chocolate. I feel a shock of disappointment.)

Employee: “I’ll try that again.”

(The employee starts to make another cone, and I feel encouraged. They dip it in the chocolate and it comes out, again, with MASSIVE chocolate coating, and they start to gently shake excess chocolate off.)

Me: “That’s okay like that.”

Employee: “I need to get the excess off.”

Me: “I’m okay with it.”

Employee: “But I need to get the excess off.”

Me: “Really, it’s no problem like that.”

Employee: “But the excess chocolate needs to come off.”

Me: “Really, I don’t mind. I’ll take it like that.”

(One final shake, and the ice cream and chocolate coating break off and fall into the chocolate.)

Employee: “Sorry. It’s just not hot enough yet. If you come back later we can make it for you.”

(I know I’m too old to care about an ice cream cone, but it felt like a tiny part of me died that morning.)

You Can’t Rebrand Stupid

, , , , , | Right | November 5, 2017

(I work in a bulk grocery store that caters mostly to the foodservice and restaurant industry. Our company has recently undergone a “rebranding” and, as such, a lot of our product packaging has been changed. The following happens after a customer inquires about one of those items.)

Customer: “Excuse me, sir? Do you all still carry the already-made mashed potatoes in the six-pound tubs?”

Me: “Sure do! They’re right over here.”

(I escort her to the product and explain to her that it’s now packaged differently.)

Customer: “Oh, that’s not what I’m looking for. Do you have the ones in the tubs?”

Me: “No, ma’am. They’ve changed to a new packaging, so they’re now in these five-pound pouches instead of the tubs. It’s still the same product, though.”

Customer: *after looking the product over* “Hmm… Well, do you have any tubs left over in the back?”

Me: “I’m afraid not. The changeover happened about six months ago, so the tubs are long gone. The pouches are all we have anymore.”

Customer: *looks the product over even more before handing it back to me* “Well, thanks, but no. I’ll come back some other time and see if you have more tubs.”

Me: *face-palm*

Eat Your Own Words

, , , , | Related | August 17, 2017

(My mom, my grandmother, and I are having dinner. I’m in my teens and still eating a lot. I grab another pork chop from the center of the table.)

Mom: “Just because it’s there doesn’t mean you have to eat it.”

(Later on, Mom examines the juice she’s drinking.)

Mom: “This juice isn’t what I was expecting. I don’t really like it.”

Grandma: “So why do you keep drinking it?”

Mom: “I don’t know. It’s sitting there and I just forget and take another sip.”

Me: “Just because it’s there doesn’t mean you have to drink it.”

Mom: *glares at me*

Good Advice Is Poison To His Ears

, , , , | Friendly | July 13, 2017

(Every few months or so, our troop has to clean out and organize the trailer containing our camp supplies. Some poison ivy has started growing at the back of the trailer, but it’s out of the way.)

Friend: “I’m gonna try and clear out that poison ivy.”

Scoutmaster: “You don’t need to do that. It’s out of the way, and it’s best to have a professional deal with it.”

Me: “Yeah, and you don’t want to end up catching poison ivy… again!”

Friend: “I have gloves and clippers. I’m not gonna touch it.”

Scoutmaster: “That doesn’t matter. You can still catch it if it gets on your clothes.”

Friend: “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

(Whenever he gets his mind set on things like this, it’s almost impossible to try and talk him out of it.)

Me: *sigh* “Your funeral.”

(He managed to clear out the poison ivy, while I tried to stay away from him. After we’re back home, I noticed I’m starting to breakout. I called him up to yell at him only for his mother to inform me that he was far worse. He ended up missing school for a couple of days because it got all over his face, causing his eyes to swell shut.)