(I have ordered from a restaurant. They call me back.)

Me: “Hello?”

Employee: “Are you [My Name]?”

Me: “Yeah, that’s me.”

Employee: “The two cans of [Brand] soda you ordered, we don’t have anymore. Would you like [Brand #2], [Brand #3]—”

(Suddenly my home phone runs out of battery. I rush to find a new one, and I realize I haven’t charged ANY of my home phones. I slam one into the charger as they call again.)

Employee: “[My Name]?”

Me: “I… I am sorry. My home phone ran out of battery. I’ll take two of [Brand #2] soda.”

Employee: “Are you sure you want your burge—”

(The home phone goes out again, and I answer from the answering machine the next time they call.)

Me: “I’m really sorry; I haven’t charged any of my home phones.”

Employee: “Don’t sweat it; at least you’re not yelling about too much salt on your fries.”

(I am a night auditor at a hotel in Nashville that has an ongoing contract with a major national airline to hold rooms for their pilots and flight attendants. This happens while a group of flight attendants is checking in.)

Me: “And just so you know, there is a complimentary breakfast from 6:30 until 9:00 this morning, down here in our lobby.”

Flight Attendant: “Okay, but is there a complimentary breakfast for us??

Me: “Yes, ma’am, there is a complimentary breakfast from 6:30 until 9:00 this morning.”

Flight Attendant: “Yes, but is there a complimentary breakfast for us?”

Me: *more than a little confused, as I’ve just answered her question* “Yes, ma’am. We serve breakfast from 6:30 until 9:00.”

Flight Attendant: “I know, but sometimes, the hotels have a free breakfast. Do you have that?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. As I’ve said, multiple times, we have a complimentary breakfast from 6:30 until 9:00, here in our lobby.”

Flight Attendant: “I don’t like your attitude.”

(She came back down, half an hour later and asked another two times if we serve a complimentary breakfast.)

(I work in a high-end department store known for its excellent customer service. In fact, one of our mottos is, “We wear smiles, not name tags.” We’re trained to smile and ask customers if they’re finding everything all right when they’re in our department, if they’re not already being helped by someone else. I’m currently ringing up a gentleman in my department when a young woman runs over to him from the ladies’ shoe department.)

Dad: “Did you find any you like?”

Daughter: “No, I can’t stay over there. There are too many salespeople.”

Dad: “Were they being too aggressive?”

Daughter: “No, they were all just asking me if I was doing okay. I can’t stay over there!”

Dad: *long pause* “Honey, this is [Store], and that’s their job. That’s why I shop here. Let’s go to [Other Store]; they’ll ignore you there.”

(Thanks, Dad, for recognizing and appreciating the difference between being attentive and being aggressive.)

(I have just finished ringing up a customer I’d been working with for about half an hour. She was in quite a hurry as she had a formal event that night and was going right from the store to her hair appointment. She had just left to run to the restroom before leaving, so I am surprised when she comes to find me a few minutes later.)

Customer: “I was just in the restroom and realized I didn’t have my bag. I don’t remember ever having it.”

(We look all around the department before the customer says she has to go. I get her information so I can get back in touch with her. I call security, and she saw on the camera where I’d given the customer her bag, but we stopped to look at some lipsticks a little ways away, and the camera couldn’t see us. I asked the customer service manager what to do.)

Me: “Can I grab her three products and get them to her? If we find her bag, we can just put them back, and if not, we can do an inventory adjustment.” *we are quite well-known for our customer service, so this is not an outrageous request*

Manager: “That’s really up to you. If you think she’s on the up-and-up, then go for it. You’ll probably get a customer for life out of it.”

Me: “I totally believe her. I’m pretty sure someone accidentally picked up her bag, because it was so busy and there were a lot of people around.”

(I quickly grabbed the three products the customer had purchased and was filling out a form so I could deliver them to her house when my coworker came and got me.)

Coworker: “Hey, a customer just called and said she picked up someone else’s bag by mistake. It had some [Brand] in it. Did you sell that to someone?”

Me: “Yes! I’m just about to deliver some replacements to that customer.”

Coworker: “Well, this lady said she’d bring the bag back tonight.”

(I got to take care of my customer, who was totally sweet and wanted to pay for the replacements I brought her because she didn’t want me to get in trouble. And the other customer brought the bag back with all of the items in it. Faith in humanity: restored. For the time being…)

I work at a well-known restaurant famous for its fried chicken sandwiches. For some reason my coworkers and I have yet to discern, our drive-thru is always slammed, from early morning until late at night. Doesn’t matter what time of day it is; if you choose to go through drive-thru, you will probably have a dozen or so cars in front of you, though your wait should never be longer than about five minutes. Evidently that’s just too long for some “special” people, though.

“Guys… did someone just go in the wrong end of drive-thru?”

Upon hearing this, I can feel a few of my brain cells commit suicide. The exit to our drive-thru is clearly marked with a massive STOP sign, and opens right onto the top of a small hill. Getting out is easy, but to somehow enter from this direction unscathed takes no small amount of luck and stubborn determination.

The car passes by the window. It’s a brand new white Chrysler, and looks quite expensive. It’s also moving oh-so-very-quickly in the obviously wrong direction.

The entrance to the drive-thru starts as a bottleneck, but then opens up to allow cars to drive off if they so choose. It is not designed for people to get out of. Until now, we always thought it was physically impossible for a car to squeeze past the curb on one side and the car on the other.

Unnecessary foreshadowing. Forget I said anything.

The car approaches the bottleneck. It can now go no further without getting very physically intimate with a long line of other vehicles. Realizing he’s stuck, the driver begins gunning his engine aggressively, perhaps assuming the cars in front of him will sprout wings? Trying her best to be a good Samaritan, the customer closest to him gets out of her car and tells him he can’t go any farther, and that he’ll just have to go back out in reverse. The man’s response is quoted verbatim, and should be read in monotone:

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am…”

And then he floors it. Somehow he misses the good Samaritan, but her car is not so lucky. The entire right side of her car is scraped and ripped asunder by the left side of his car, but our special friend isn’t stopping just yet. Somehow, and we’re still not exactly certain how, he manages to get his two left wheels up on the curb of the drive-thru, and wall-rides past the other cars! Not before smashing into the sides of two more vehicles, though, one of them being driven by a beautiful young woman, eight months pregnant, with two kids and her elderly mother in the car.

As this scene from heck plays out, I can feel additional brain cells abandoning the ship. I take an hour or so to get eyewitness statements, talk to the victims, and bemoan the stupidity of mankind.

There was much bemoaning.

Some weeks later, we’re happy to learn that the police caught our special friend. He, of course, denied any of it ever happening, but it’s difficult to argue when we have pictures of the damage caused, eyewitness testimonies, and footage of your car causing the accident.

Oh, yes, and your license plate number. Taken by the good Samaritan who tried to help you.