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Sounds Like Their Grasp Of English Is Worse

, , , , , | Right | September 7, 2020

Customer: “I just got off the phone with your customer service, but they didn’t speak English so I came here.”

Me: “Well, ma’am, I’m afraid that the only way to handle this issue is to call that customer service line. I assure you that they all speak English.”

Customer: “No, they don’t; they were Indian.”

Me: “I know, but we don’t hire American customer service associates that don’t speak English.”

Customer: “Well, they didn’t.”

Me: “So, they were speaking to you in Hindi, then?”

Customer: *Blank look* “They didn’t speak very good English.”

Me: “Oh, I see. Well, that isn’t really the same thing, is it?”

The customer turned and left, clearly upset.

Why Waitstaff Should Rule The World

, , , , , | Right | September 4, 2020

I’m fourteen at the time, attending the Kansas City Comicon. My family isn’t particularly rich, so I only have five dollars for the entire weekend. As all those who attend conventions know that five dollars doesn’t get you very far. I see a plushie of an anime character that I particularly enjoy; unfortunately, it’s out of my price range at thirteen dollars. I rejoin my family at the hotel diner, overwhelmed by the bustle of the convention and upset over not being able to purchase my toy. My mother is understanding, and I have received tissues from a passing waitress. Finally, another waitress approaches.

Waitress: “What’s wrong, hun?”

Me: *In tears* “I was at the convention, and I saw something I really, really wanted, and it was thirteen dollars, and I only have five!”

The waitress gives a confident smile.

Waitress: “Aw…”

She begins rifling through a wallet as I watch, wide-eyed. She hands me all the money I need to buy the plushie.

Waitress: “Just pay it forward, you hear?”

I was in tears of glee, and my parents were shocked and happy! I still have my Sebastian plushie. Thank you, kind waitress!


This story is part of the Waitstaff roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

23 Times Waitstaff Had To Deal With Customers From Hell

 

Read the next Waitstaff roundup story!

Read the Waitstaff roundup!


This story is part of our Feel Good roundup for September 2020!

Read the next Feel Good roundup story!

Read the Feel Good roundup for September 2020!

When Pizza Is A Source Of Stress

, , , , | Right | August 29, 2020

When I started working for this company I was a customer service rep, but after a year, I learned how to work the kitchen and have been back there ever since. On this day, the customer service rep has called in sick and I’m the only person available to cover.

Me: “Thank you for calling—”

The caller is talking to people in the background.

Me: “Um… hello?”

Customer #1: *To me* “Yeah, you need to hold on a minute; I’m talking to someone right now.”

A little bit later:

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]; will this be for delivery or carry-out?”

Customer #2: “I want a [pizza].”

Me: “Okay, will this be delivery or carry-out?”

Customer #2: “Neither, I just want a [pizza]; how much and how long?”

A little bit later:

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]; will this be for delivery or carry-out?”

Customer #3: “Carry-out.”

Me: *Gets customer’s information* “All right, what can I get for you tonight?”

[Customer #3] screams into the phone to someone in their house.

Customer #3: “What you want?”

Someone screams something in the background. This back and forth screaming match lasts the entire order.

A little bit later, I am talking to [Customer #4], a woman standing at my counter with a phone in her hand.

Me: “Hi, how are you doing today?”

[Customer #4] holds a finger up and mouths, “One moment,” while chatting away on her phone, so I speak to the next person in line.

Me: “Can I help you, sir?”

Customer #4: “Well, that’s rude. Do you not see me standing here?”

A little bit later:

Customer #5: “Can you turn on [Local Sports game]?

Me: “Yeah, sure.”

The remote changes the channel on all of the TVs. There is no way to change just one.

Customer #6: “What the h***? My kids were watching something. This is a family restaurant; don’t you think this is inappropriate?”

At the end of the night, my manager finds me on my hands and knees in the dining area scrubbing marinara sauce out of the carpet.

Me: “Now I remember why I quit being a CSR.”

Sorry, Story Author, Did You Say Something?

, , , , , , | Working | August 26, 2020

I am the assistant manager at a smaller restaurant. I am the youngest employee and female, but I’m also one of the most senior employees and was promoted for busting my a** for almost three years.

One of my employees has been here for less than a year, and is an older male, over twice my age. While I don’t quite like him for personal reasons, I’m very good at not letting that affect how I treat my coworkers and employees. Unfortunately, I have repeatedly had issues with this employee, even when he first started. I’m pretty sure he has issues taking orders from a young woman, but who knows. Regardless, he frequently undermines me, refuses my orders, or ignores me entirely. He is actually fairly decent at his job, though — when he actually does it — and even more unfortunately, he is almost impressively good at brown-nosing and kissing a**, so he is more or less allowed to do whatever the h*** he wants by all higher-ups. I make a semi-compromise with this by basically trying to let him be as much as I can. But, as these things go, I sometimes have to, ya know, communicate with my employees.

We recently cut back on some shipments, as business has been slow. One of the things we cut is going from getting deliveries of our microfiber towels twice a week to once a week, which is entirely fine, but it means we have to be slightly more conservative in our towel usage until we reaccustom ourselves or get busier. This employee, apparently, didn’t listen to the meeting we had the morning before where this was explained and I see him taking a sanitizer bucket with FOUR towels to clean a small, already mostly clean lobby.

Me: “Hey, [Employee], why are there four towels in here?”

Employee: *Snarkily* “Because there’s four of them!”

Me: *After a pause* “Okay, but just so you know—”

Employee: “[My Name], it’s fine; just take one.”

Me: “What? No, I just wanted to—”

Employee: “[My Name], I already told you its okay!”

Me: “No, [Employee], I needed to tell—”

Employee: “[My Name], I don’t understand why this is such a big deal! I already told you you could take a towel.”

Me: “But—”

Employee: “There are even towels in the back! Why do you have to make such a big deal of this?”

I say this louder than normal, but nowhere near yelling.

Me: “[Employee]! Listen to me.”

He just stops and stares at me before smirking.

Employee: “Ooooh, you yelled at me in front of customers.”

He turns and walks away, completely ignoring all attempts at communication on my end, and goes directly to the office where my general manager is working. He proceeds to b**** and complain about how “disrespectful” I am and how my manager needs to “teach me some manners,” and he says that I’m “screaming at him in front of customers.”

My patience is running thin, and I try to interject to tell my side of the story, but he cuts me off every time with a hand-wave, saying, “I’m not done yet!”

By the time he’s done with his little rant, I am almost shaking in anger. He leaves, giving me a smug smirk, and I take a moment to compose myself.

I fully explain the situation, complete with me NOT yelling, only slightly raising my voice, and his complete dismissal of me, briefly mentioning that this is a pattern — which my GM is aware of.

General Manager: “All right, but you have to stop making such a big deal over little things. [Employee] knows what he’s doing; just leave him to it.”

Me: “I’m trying, but I need him to at least listen to me, and I would like it if you and everyone else stopped automatically taking his side for things.”

General Manager: “I’m not taking his side in anything, but you need to stop yelling at him and let him work.”

I’m thinking, “You are literally taking his side. Right now. Over the assistant manager that YOU promoted.”

Me: “I’ll try. Could you at least ask him to listen to me instead of interrupting? I just want to have a conversation.”

General Manager: “Yeah, sure.”

I think I need a new job.

Listen Well To This Painful Lesson!

, , , , , | Healthy | August 25, 2020

Have you ever wondered why your doctor tells you not to shove things in your ears?

I know all of the conventional wisdom: no Q-tips, cotton balls, hairpins, etc. However, that doesn’t mean my ears don’t get occasionally itchy, and sometimes, you just have to scratch.

One night, I was lying in my bed, and I felt the irresistible urge to scratch an itch inside my ear. So, I did what any reasonable adult would do. I slid my pinkie in my ear, twisted it, and pulled it out, quick as you like.

It should be noted that I have notoriously tiny ears — ridiculously so — and that I’m used to feeling a little suction when I scratch my ear with my pinkie.

But this time was different.

This time, when my pinkie caught suction, it caught hard — so hard it created a vacuum inside my ear canal.

When my pinkie made it out of my ear, there was a loud POP and such pain that I immediately started to cry. It felt like someone had jabbed a screwdriver into my ear.

Within two hours, the pain had partially subsided, but my ear was hot and leaking clear pus. Sounds were muffled, and I couldn’t hear my own voice in my skull on that side of my head. So, I once more did what any reasonable adult would do and tried to sleep it off.

Fight the inevitable as I might, when I woke up the next morning, I knew I had to go to urgent care. The hearing loss had grown profound, my head was tilting to the left, and everything was muffled and uncomfortable.

The doctor looked in my ear for less than two seconds and gave me the bad news I’d been dreading, along with $500 in antibiotics. Healthcare in America is a b**** if you’re on a state-funded plan, and I was on vacation 2,000 miles outside the area my insurance would cover. Yay, America!

And that’s how I ruptured my eardrum by scratching an itch with my pinkie.