This happened a while ago, so some specific details might have been lost to time, but the key points are very much remembered.
We have a customer who always — and I mean ALWAYS — finds something to complain about. An item’s packaging is too scruffy, we took too long to find an item from the back, we didn’t wish her a good day when she left, etc. We have pretty much accepted the fact that NOTHING we do will make this miserable old woman happy, so we don’t try; we just brace ourselves for a barrage of complaints while we try to get her in and out as quickly as possible.
A recent encounter ran differently, however, as she came into the store with a younger woman, who we would later find out is her daughter. Her temperament is the polar opposite of her mother’s.
Customer: *As she enters the store* “I see they don’t want to waste money on customer’s comfort by turning on the AC.”
Customer’s Daughter: “I don’t know what you mean; I felt the blast of cold air as soon as I came in.”
Customer: “And the music! As usual, it’s way too loud!”
Customer’s Daughter: “Music? Oh, I didn’t even notice they were playing it. I barely heard it.”
The customers disappear into the store. The mother keeps finding things to complain about, and the daughter keeps politely highlighting that she’s overreacting. I find it humorous but continue with my work at the customer service desk. A moment later, the customer’s daughter rushes up to me.
Customer’s Daughter: “Hi! My mother is here shopping. I saw you spot us on the way in, so you know who I am talking about.”
Me: “Well… I try to remember most of our… regulars.”
Customer’s Daughter: “Last time I was here, I found out how awful she’s been treating all you guys. I saw it for myself, and I was mortified!“
Me: “That’s… appreciated, ma’am, but—”
Customer’s Daughter: “You’re just doing your job. Technically, yes, but she shouldn’t be putting you through that just because she refuses to find joy in her life. I apologize, but I also want to help! She’s on the phone shouting at my dad at the moment, but that was planned so she could be distracted…”
Me: *Intrigued* “Okaaaay…?”
Customer’s Daughter: “She’s going to come up to this customer service desk, and she’s going to complain about you guys not having a specific flavor of [Brand] oatmeal in stock. You guys were never going to win that one; she specifically looks for whatever flavor you’re missing on the shelf and will use that to fuel her whining spree directed at you guys just to get some perverse pleasure out of it.”
Me: “Uh… wow.”
Customer: “Yeah, I know. She mentioned a few days ago we were out of [Brand] oatmeal, so I knew she was going to ask for it today—”
As she’s speaking, my manager comes out from the little office behind the customer service desk. She has caught most of the conversation through the open door.
Manager: “Are you oatmeal girl?”
Customer’s Daughter: *Eyes go wide* “Yes! I was told you’d be here when I called!”
Me: “Okay, someone please explain.”
Manager: *Gesturing to the young lady* “This customer here called us a few days ago—”
Customer’s Daughter: “Three days ago, when my mother started complaining about running out of the oatmeal and I knew what she was planning.”
Manager: “Yes. I took her call, and she specifically asked us to order in two of every size, flavor, variation, and packaging type that [Brand] oatmeal produces and put them aside for her. Never one to fail a customer, we said we’d have them all ready for her at the customer service desk by today.”
I look inside the office and am surprised I didn’t notice the small mountain of various oatmeal products inhabiting the corner.
Customer’s Daughter: “Amazing! I’m going to go find her now; she should be wrapping up her call with Dad. She thinks I’ve gone to the restroom. When we get to the oatmeal section, I would bet my house that she will spot what’s missing and come here to complain. Please be ready when she does!”
And with that, she runs off down an aisle, leaving my manager and I staring at each other with a “That just happened” look. My manager then takes all of the oatmeal boxes in the back and strategically places them behind the desk.
With terrifying accuracy, within minutes, we see our problem regular charging toward us like a bull seeing red. Her daughter is following behind her.
Customer: *Nostrils flaring* “Outrageous! Every time I come here, you disappoint me!”
Manager: “How can we help you, ma’am?”
Customer: “I came here specifically for the raisin [Brand] oatmeal, and you don’t have any on the shelf!”
What happens next is a thing of beauty and will forever remain a core memory for me. My manager, not moving from his spot and barely even breaking eye contact, produces the exact box of oatmeal that the customer was asking for.
Manager: “Our sincerest apologies, ma’am. I hope this resolves your issue.”
The customer is momentarily stunned, as am I! She squares her jaw, glares at the magically produced box of oatmeal, notices a detail on the packaging, and tries to come in for the kill again.
Customer: “This doesn’t help me, does it? I have a family to feed, and this is just the sixteen-ounce box, and I need the thirty-two-ounce one to last me all week! Honestly, if you can’t even—
Once again, my manager magically produces the exact box of oatmeal the regular just requested out of thin air.
Manager: “Of course, ma’am. How silly of us. Please, take this.”
Again, she is stunned. I am standing aside, trying not to let my smirk appear too obvious, as is the customer’s daughter, standing behind this now reddening collection of frustration that is her mother.
Customer: “That’s all well and good, but I needed the gluten-free version—”
Manager: *Slamming two of them on the desk* “Here, ma’am. The gluten-free version doesn’t come in a thirty-two-ounce box, but we do have two of the sixteen-ounce boxes right here, and since you’re already here at the customer service desk speaking to me, a manager, I’ll make sure to price-match both of these so that you pay the same as the thirty-two-ounce box from before.”
The customer is, for lack of a better word… annihilated. To use a Bart Simpson meme; if you look closely, you can pinpoint the second when her heart rips in half.
Customer: *Sniffs* “I… guess that will be acceptable.”
She snatches the oatmeal boxes and places them in her cart, storming off to continue her shopping. Her daughter turns around and mouths a thank-you to my manager, before turning to back to her mother.
Customer: “…and the music is still too loud!”
They continued their shopping, and we didn’t hear another complaint for the rest of that shopping trip! Oatmeal Girl came back an hour after they left to buy up the rest of the oatmeal she had pre-ordered. When my manager asked her what she would do with all that oatmeal, she said there were plenty of food pantries in the city in need of donations in these trying times.
Thank you, Oatmeal Girl. You’re a true NAR Avenger!
Related:
Jane Complain Reaches The Next Level
The Continuing Saga Of Jane Complain
The Saga Of Jane Complain
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