Today’s Headlines: Coffee Tastes Like Coffee

, , , | Right | February 20, 2020

(I’m waiting for my coffee at the end of the coffee bar when this exchange happens between the barista and another customer. The girl has just picked up her blended coffee and left the coffee shop seemingly content. I see her take a drink of it and turn around to come back inside to the barista.)

Customer: “Hi, this doesn’t taste like it usually does. I don’t like it; I can taste the coffee.”

Barista: “I’m sorry.” *takes back the drink she’s put down on the counter and looks at the order marks on the cup* “Did you want a blended mocha with an extra shot?”

Customer: “Yes, but I don’t like it. I can taste the coffee too much.”

Barista: “I’m sorry you’re not happy with it. Would you like me to remake it for you?”

Customer: “Yes, I don’t like it. It tastes like coffee.”

Barista: “Okay, I can make you a new one without the extra shot.”

Customer: “I don’t know why this tasted so much like coffee.”

(The barista just starts making the drink for her, this time without extra shots of coffee, and hands it to her, and she takes a drink.)

Barista: “Does that one taste better?”

Customer: “Yes, I can’t really taste the coffee this time. Thanks.”

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Unfiltered Story #186233

, , | Unfiltered | February 18, 2020

*pushing carts back into the vestibule*
Customer: How dare you! I backed my car into my cart! This is your fault. Well you should have moved it for me cause that is your job.
Me: I do apologize for that. But surely you noticed the receptacle for the carts once used. We are also not hold liable for damages.

Customer: I’ll complain to your boss.

*my boss said the same thing*

Stacking Up The Bogus Complaints

, , , , | Related | February 17, 2020

(I am out shopping with my sister-in-law, who has a huge temper and is easily offended. She wants to buy a small plastic tub for her son, my nephew, and is currently looking at some that are on a higher shelf. A store associate notices her trying to unstack them and comes over.)

Employee: *very politely* “Excuse me. Would you like some help with that?”

Sister-In-Law: *politely back* “Oh, no, thanks. I’ve got it.”

Employee: “Okay! Let me know if you need anything.” *walks away*

Sister-In-Law: *to me* “Can you believe that?!”

Me: *confused pause* “What?”

Sister-In-Law: “That was so rude! Why isn’t she just helping me? And it wouldn’t even be an issue if these weren’t so high on the g**d*** shelves!”

(I am speechless. She continues to struggle with the tubs until she separates them, and then she decides she doesn’t even want one, so she tries to put them back on the shelf with difficulty.)

Employee: *notices her struggling and comes back, with a smile* “Can I help you with that? Or I can put them away if you have decided that you don’t want any of them.”

Sister-In-Law: *smiling back* “Oh, no, I’ve got it. Thanks so much!”

(As soon as the employee leaves, my sister-in-law turns to me.)

Sister-In-Law: “What horrible customer service! I can’t believe she didn’t pick those up for me!”

Me: *dumbfounded* “She offered to help you twice.”

Sister-In-Law: “Yeah, rudely. Like, I know you’re miserable to work here, but can you please be polite? And seriously, why would she put those tubs up so high? So dumb!”

Me: “Umm, [Sister-In-Law], she was polite and very helpful. And I don’t think she personally stacked those tubs there.”

Sister-In-Law: *mumbling* “Didn’t help at all…”

(She is so bothered by the experience that we leave without buying anything. When we get back to her house, I overhear her telling my brother — her husband — the story from the other room.)

Sister-In-Law: “You should have been there, babe. The store clerk was so rude to me! This b**** refused to help me! And then, at the end, she got this snotty attitude and was like, “You obviously can’t lift those yourself; just let me do it,” and I was like, why was it up there in the first place? I wouldn’t have needed help with it if she knew how to stock a d*** shelf.”

Me: *coming in* “Woah, woah, woah. That’s not how it happened.”

(I explain how polite the clerk was and how she tried to help [Sister-In-Law] twice, but that [Sister-In-Law] would not let her.)

Brother: “Yeah, [Sister-In-Law] has been doing that kind of thing a lot lately…”

(They divorced a few years later. My brother is with a much nicer woman now.)

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The Chaos Chorus

, , , , , , , | Working | February 13, 2020

(I’m a volunteer at a museum. The volunteers and staff carry radios so we can coordinate. We have different channels for different groups so, for example, the tour guides can coordinate tours without bothering the rest of the staff. Our radios are also always simultaneously tuned to a second channel called “general,” which is only used for announcements. The museum is closed for today while we change exhibits. Notably, a site safety staff member is also testing out the PA loudspeakers.)

Site Safety: *on general* “Heads up, loud noise coming.”

Site Safety: *on PA* “THIS IS AN AUDIO TEST OF THE— GOOD LORD, THAT’S LOUD. HOW DO I LOWER THE VOLUME?”

Site Safety: *on general* “Sorry, folks… That’s a bit louder than expected. We’re gonna look into that.”

(A few minutes pass:)

Unknown #1: *on general* “Szz fn mph… fllf.”

Supervisor: “Ah, darn it, someone’s leaning on their transmit.”

(Someone’s accidentally transmitting on general without realizing it, usually caused by leaning up against a wall and hitting the PTT button.)

Supervisor: “Hot mic on general.”

Unknown #1: “Fzz whll… mm.”

Supervisor: “Hot mic on general!”

Unknown #1: “Hll?”

Unknown #2: “Hot! Mic! On! General!”

Unknown #1: “Snzzz whrr…”

Unknown #3: “HOT MIC ON G**D*** GENERAL.”

Supervisor: “Hey, keep it professional on the radios!”

Unknown #1: “Shvvv br.”

(Pretty soon, a chorus of voices pop up, all calling in, “Hot mic on general.” Then, suddenly:)

Site Safety: *on PA* “HOT MIC ON GEN– OH, S***, WRONG BUTTON, THAT’S THE PA. SORRY, FOLKS.”

(Long pause:)

Unknown #3: “Uh… hot mic on g**d*** PA.”

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Strap In And Prepare For Some Scary Nannying

, , , , | Right | February 11, 2020

(I work at a guest services desk at my local mall. I am watching a nanny on an iPad. A toddler who was sleeping in the stroller wakes up and gets twisted in the straps. He tries to get the nanny’s attention, but she just points her finger to wait until she is done, so he tries to wiggle himself out. The stroller tips over, he screams, and security and police come. I tell security and the police what I have witnessed.)

Nanny: “I’m gonna get you fired!”

Me: *snapping back* “Really? Well, you are the one who gets paid to watch the child, and apparently, using your iPad was much more important than your child. It would have taken less than a minute to untwist him from the stroller straps!”

(I was not fired. Dear parents and nannies, pay attention to your child, not so much your cell phone. A cell phone can be replaced; a child cannot.)

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