Will Call You In The Future

, , , , , | Right | June 8, 2021

On the IRS website, you can track the status of your tax return. At our office, we often will do so for clients who call in.

It is the last day of tax season. If the call is not about setting up an appointment or providing details about a return in progress, the policy is to tell them we can’t help them. A woman calls in.

Caller: “I need you to help me look up my refund and when it will arrive.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, we can’t do this on the last day, but I’ll be more than happy to do so tomorrow.”

Caller: “I already paid you for my taxes, and it’s my money, so you d*** well better look it up for me!”

Me: “I’m afraid we cannot, and we do not have the tools or resources.”

Caller: “Manager.”

Me: “The manager is busy with someone else but I can put you on hold and they will get to you.”

She hangs up before the manager can get to that line forty-five minutes later — we are VERY busy — and calls back an hour after that. I recognize her voice and repeat that we can’t help her get her refund status.

Caller: “How can you even know what I want if I ain’t even told you my name yet?”

Me: “Because I’m psychic.”

Caller: “Well, Mr. Psychic Man, I want you doing my taxes next year.”

Me: “Very well. What’s your name, so I can make sure you get an appointment with me?”

Caller: “You’re the psychic. Figure it out.” *Click*

I laughed about that for a good while after.

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Don’t You Hate It When You Become One Of “Them”?

, , , , | Right | March 19, 2021

I am the idiot in this story. I’ve gone to a fast food restaurant late in the evening, well after the dinner rush. The place seems deserted except for the employees. I order a grilled chicken sandwich with no mayo and stand aside to wait for it. When a grilled chicken sandwich is placed on the counter, I spy some suspicious oily glops on the box. I open it and take the sandwich apart, and not gingerly. I really manhandle it. I pipe up.

Me: “Um… I ordered this with no mayo.”

Employee: “That’s not yours. That’s hers.”

He pointed behind me where, unbeknownst to me, a little old lady had silently crept up. I apologized and offered to pay. The employee said, “Nah,” but I felt like a huge idiot.

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Okay, But Were They Any Good?

, , , , , , | Right | February 22, 2021

I work the overnight shift for a hotel. Usually, it is super quiet because everyone is sleeping. The walls are not soundproof so, occasionally, we get a noise complaint about a TV too loud, people being loud in the hallway, etc.

One night, I received four noise complaints for the same room in five minutes around 1:00 am. I went upstairs with security and knocked on the door. It took ten minutes, but when the guests finally opened the door, I found a live band in the room performing. Needless to say, they all got kicked out of the hotel for the night and banned from coming back.

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Heli-dum, Part 3

, , , , | Right | November 5, 2020

I work at a popular party supply store. I’m up front cashiering, answering phones, greeting customers, etc. I get a call and this conversation with a very angry customer ensues.

Me: “Thanks for calling [Store]! This is [My Name]; how can I help you?”

Customer: “I bought a package of your latex balloons and they’re broken!

Me: “Oh, that’s weird! How are they broken?”

Customer: “They won’t float when I blow them up! You changed them! I want a refund!”

Me: “Well, that’s weird. We haven’t changed our latex balloons in years. We can guarantee our balloons to last ten hours. When were they blown up?”

Customer: “I blew them up! Just now! They don’t float! Give me back my money!”

Me: “Sir… how did you blow them up?”

Customer: “What do you mean?! I just blew in them with my mouth. They used to float and now they don’t.”

Me: “Sir. I can assure you, they did not float when you blew them up, and they aren’t floating now because you need to fill balloons with helium for them to float. Helium is lighter than oxygen, so it won’t float if you just blow into them.”

Customer: “That is ridiculous! They always floated before. The balloons are broken.”

Me: “No, they aren’t. It’s high school chemistry.”

Customer: *Hangs up*

Heli-dum, Part 2

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A Cent’s Worth Of Satisfaction Is Priceless, Part 2

, , , , | Right | October 10, 2020

Coworker: “Oh, s***, she’s back. [My Name], can you please take over the window?”

Me: “Uh, sure.”

I have just got back for winter break, so I have no idea who she’s talking about.

Me: “Hi! Welcome to [Drive-Thru]; how can I help you?”

The woman in the drive-thru is young, early-to-mid-twenties. She has a lip piercing and is driving with a friend. She orders a few drinks and I make them, no problem, making sure to be extra polite because my coworker is so nervous about her.

She gives me extra change so I will give her back an even number in change, but she gives me the wrong change. I give her ninety-five cents back instead of a round dollar — the right change; she needed to give me an extra nickel.

Customer: “What the h*** is this? I need a dollar back; can’t you count?”

I am super-embarrassed and flustered; I have an order on my headset, we are super busy, and I have fifteen drinks to make.

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, if you give me an extra nickel I can call the manager over and reopen the register.”

Customer: “Never f****** mind; learn to count change!”

She drives off. Not even three hours later, she is back, without her friend. I am on the window by then, and I recognize her as I open the window; by then, it is too late.

Customer: “Oh, it’s you again.”

She starts counting out change, slowly. I’m awkwardly hanging out the window, flustered, order in my ear, embarrassed, and angry, but with a huge smile on my face.

Customer: *Looks up* “You can wait!”

She keeps counting out the change, as slow and nasty as she can. She gives it to me and I put it in the till. I hand out her drinks. I can’t be mean, and I don’t want to be quiet, so in the brightest, cheeriest, happiest voice in the entire world, a voice to give a sugar-rush to a chipmunk…

Me: “Sorry about earlier! Have a great day, ma’am!”

Customer: “What a b****!”

Just how horrible of a person do you have to be to get kicked out of a drive-thru? This person got kicked out about a week after I went back to school.

A Cent’s Worth Of Satisfaction Is Priceless

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