Unfiltered Story #124529

, , , | Unfiltered | October 27, 2018

(I was working at a small call center for a mobile company specializing in overseas cellphone usage, we get a great deal of elderly people who do not understand cellphones, so I was used to explaining fairly elementary aspects of the hardware.)

Me: Thank you for calling [business], how can I help you?

Customer: You sent me a broken phone! I can’t get the d*** thing to turn on, I’ve tried everything! I need you to send me a new one!

Me: Okay, let’s start at the beginning first. Have you charged it?

Customer: It’s been charging all night and it even lights up but I still can’t get it to turn on!

Me: Do you have the phone with you? (yes) Okay, please try pressing and holding the “on” button for a few seconds, it has a red icon on it, just below the screen. It looks like a circle with a line coming down through the top. (I generally had to use ths description because people assume it’s the green “send” button, or else cannot identify either button at all.)

Customer: How do I press it?

Me: How…do you press a button?

Customer: Yes! I need to know how to get this thing on!

Me:…place your index finger or thumb on the button. Apply pressure.

Customer: It worked! How did you know that?!

Me: Just a hunch ma’am.

(I had to cover the mic to keep her from hearing my manager cracking up in the background.)

H2-Oh, My God, That’s A Lot Of Water

, , , , , , | Working | October 22, 2018

While going through security to board my flight, my bag was pulled from the x-ray machine for further inspection. The TSA agent proceeded to pull out not one, not two, but four fairly small water bottles, each well above three ounces, all filled. I was shocked, but then I remembered: I had recently taken another trip using this same bag where I was on the go a lot and had to drink lots of water. Since I tend to overpack and the bottles were at the bottom, I had simply forgotten they were there.

This would be unremarkable if not for one thing: this was the return flight of my current trip. Somehow, the staff at the other airport did not catch four water bottles on the x-ray! Needless to say, I was slightly concerned for the agents at the other airport.

Coding Isn’t A Game

, , , , , | Working | October 10, 2018

(I work as a producer for a video game publishing company. It’s very common for us to get applications from people trying to break into the industry, as I imagine it is for other publishers. We’re currently hiring for two programmer positions, both of which pay six figures a year because they have very steep skill requirements. We get an application from a young woman currently working part time as a cashier who has an impassioned cover letter talking about how she sees this job posting as her “big chance,” how she desperately wants to break into video games, etc. She has zero related skills — nothing about coding or anything whatsoever, just a bunch of part time jobs in every day work. Ordinarily I would send her a stock response about how we’re going with another candidate, but I feel for her because I literally once was that young woman trying to break into the industry over a decade ago, so I decide to call her and explain a bit more in detail so she doesn’t get discouraged. After I’ve explained why she isn’t a fit and provided some practical advice as to how she can get more experience at an entry level, she responds:)

Applicant: “Well, I do think I’m a fit.”

Me: “Unfortunately, you’ve told me yourself that you have no programming or any type of related experience. We were very clear about the requirements we need for this job because of the duties associated with it.”

Applicant: *in an irritable, haughty tone* “Well, I’m a fast learner.”

(One of the requirements we have is minimum five years experience.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but we can’t hand off this sort of sensitive work on that type of assurance.”

Applicant: *heavy sigh* “Well, I’m willing to entertain offers on the other position.”

(The other job listing had almost the exact same requirements. I turned her down, again, and she complained about my “unhelpfulness” and said she “would have thought I would have seen the value in being willing to work with someone as a teaching experience.” Talk about entitled! Sorry I wasn’t willing to handle off a ton of sensitive work to you that you ADMITTED you were unqualified to handle due to lacking the proper credentials and experience.)

No Pizza Is Worth Drunk Driving For

, , , , , , | Right | October 2, 2018

(I work at a family-run pizza shop on a busy Saturday night. The owner is helping to take calls and she receives one from a drunk customer complaining. She says she will wait for the customer to come to the store to talk to him. Five hours pass, and he is a no-show, so the owner heads home while we lock up. Ten minutes after she leaves, a car comes screeching into the parking lot and a man steps out. He almost immediately begins to berate our cashier as our remaining customers watch.)

Customer: “Where the f*** is that b****? She said she’d be here for me! G***d*** liar.”

(I step in to save our poor cashier, and I can smell the booze on him from across the counter. The cashier, meanwhile, is calling the cops to tell them about the man driving drunk.)

Me: “You must be [Customer]. She did wait for you, sir, but you told her you were on your way hours ago. She could not wait any longer for you, but I can help if you lower your voice for our other customers.”

Customer: “F*** you, you Nazi piece of s***. You and that b**** are just a couple of [anti-semitic slur] crooks. This whole place is full of Nazis. Give me my money, you [homophobic slur]!”

Me: “That is enough, sir. You can either leave now, wait for the police to come, or have our driver, the former Marine, escort you out physically. Either way, you have been barred from this restaurant.”

(He cursed a few times, called me and everyone else a Nazi again, despite me being Hispanic, then spun out of the parking lot. He was pulled over a block later by the police.)

Unfiltered Story #122109

, , , , | Unfiltered | September 25, 2018

(this is my old job at a fast food restaurant and occasionally I come in to say hi and visit my old co workers, me and my boyfriend, who still works there, order lunch and wait since there is a rush in the drive Thur, a customer orders after us, something smaller and we get our order before him, our order is way bigger but his items are cooking this i know because of the rush)
Customer: why do they get their order first?
Manager:(rushing to give everyone their order) We are still waiting on your items give us 2 more minutes
Customer: is not fair they have more items! I should have gotten my things first!
Me: (i’m fuming with anger because I know they are not doing it on purpose)Sir you need to wait she already told you to wait.
Customer: No body is talking to you!
Me:(He doesn’t know that i used to work here, i’m getting more angry because hes harassing my co workers so i took it personal) You need to wait and calm down the drive Thur is full and your order is coming out you could wait and you do need to be yelling!
Customer: Who the F*** are you to tell me what to say?!
Me:You need to calm you F***** A**! Its just f**** food! And don’t talk to them like that!
Customer: F**** You!
(Everyone around us is looking at me and my old manager is telling me to cut it out)
Manager:(whispers under her breath) thank you.
Me:You know you live in a nice area but your are like everyone has no patience and no education!
Customer: Shut the F**** up!
(My boyfriend steps in and pushes me to the dinning area to go sit a few moments later he passes by and is about to leave…)
Me:Did that take long?! Get the F***out of here!!!
Customer: (gives me the finger and leaves)
I felt like i had let go of so much anger that had built up for all those rude customers that day

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