That’s Totally Rad

, , , , , | Working | February 27, 2018

(We are hiring for a few management positions and have signs placed in the window. I receive this email from a potential applicant. I have changed the email address to a similar one, for the sake of privacy.)


“To: [work email]
From: [email protected][site].com
Subject: Hire Me
Body: Hey send me info on how to get the job I am the best fit.”

(That’s it. No name or anything. I was tempted to respond, “Dear Mr./Ms. RoosterXOXO.”)

Eventually Sweet About It

, , , , , | Right | February 26, 2018

(I work in a very popular fast food chain. The following happens a few minutes before we close at midnight.)

Me: “May I help who’s next in line please?”

Customer: *comes up with a smile* “I just need a sweet tea. No sugar.”

Me: “All right, one unsweetened tea.”

Customer: “No… I said a sweet tea. No sugar.”

Me: “Uh, okay. So, an unsweetened tea. That’ll be—”

Customer: “NO! I want a SWEET TEA. NO SUGAR!”

(I stare at her a second, then to both the tanks containing the iced teas. She is getting angry and impatient. The few other customers in line are laughing quietly.)

Me: “Ma’am… I… I don’t…”

(It suddenly hits her and she literally face-palms.)

Customer: *quietly* “I need a sweet tea. No ice.”

Me: “Okay. That I can do!”

(I get her drink and she pays.)

Customer: “It’s been a long night.”

Me: “Same here. Have a good one!”

The Real Issue To Address Here Is You

, , , , | Right | February 24, 2018

(I work in customer service at a manufacturing company. Usually, customers send in their purchase orders via fax or email, but some prefer to do over-the-phone orders. On this particular day, the caller ID comes up as a customer that is known for being cranky on a good day, and I usually pray that he asks to be transferred to another desk.)

Me: “Good morning. [Company #1]. This is [My Name] speaking.”

Customer: *already sounding a little cranky* “Hi, I’d like to place an order.”

Me: *internal cringe* “Okay.” *even with caller ID, we have to confirm details* “What company are you from, sir?”

Customer: “[Company #2].”

(Since many of our customers have similar names, I always confirm the address to make sure I am entering the order under the right customer.)

Me: “And that is [Company #2] located out of [address]?”

Customer: *immediately irritable* I’ve ordered from you before.”

Me: “Yes, I know; I’m just confirming that I have the right company.”

Customer: *more irritated* “It’s not being shipped to us. You don’t need our address.”

Me: “That’s fine, sir, but I still need to confirm your company address just to make sure I am putting the order with the right customer.”

Customer: “Oh, okay. Yes, that’s our address.”

Me: “Okay, and what can I get for you today?”

Customer: *very quickly and not very clearly* “I’d like a [Part Number #1], [Part Number #2], and [Part Number #3] to [His Customer] at [address].”

Me: *cringing* “I’m sorry, sir, but could you slow down? That was a [Part Number #1] and what else?”

(The customer is immediately angry again, and he rattles off the same order and the whole customer address again before I can finish entering even the parts they are ordering.)

Me: *panic level rising* “I’m sorry. I’m going to need that address again. What is the customer name?”

Customer: *almost yelling now* “I said, [whole customer address, slurring the city name beyond recognition].”

Me: *confirming* “And that was [His Customer] out of [Town]?”

Customer: *screaming at the top of his lungs* “LISTEN! I SAID [entire address, very clearly this time since he is yelling in my ears].”

(We luckily don’t get very many rude customers, so I am not used to being yelled at, and I am almost about to cry. I try to make my voice drip with politeness and up the number of “sirs.”)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. I am listening, sir. That was [His Customer] out of [address], correct?”

Customer: *still angrily* “Yes.”

Me: “And how would you like that shipped, sir?”

Customer: *affronted* “Are you new?”

Me: “No, sir. I’ve been here over a year.”

Customer: *suddenly the calmest he’s been the whole time, almost cheerful* “Oh. Well I’d like it shipped [ship method].”

Me: “Okay. I think we’re all set, sir. Is there anything else that I can help you with today?”

Customer: *still inexplicably cheerful* “No, that’s all. You have a nice day, now!”

(After I hang up, I look over and see my fellow office clerk staring at me.)

Clerk: “What was that?! I could hear him yelling all the way over here!”

(Luckily, that customer has been mostly civilized since.)

When You’re Drunk, Everything Is Vegan

, , , , , | Right | February 24, 2018

(I’m waiting in line for a pizza stand behind a pair of customers. Both of them appear to have one too many drinks in them. They are there to get dinner for their friend.)

Customer #1: “I think he’ll like the pepperoni pizza.”

Customer #2: “Yeah, but it has to be vegetarian. Do you know if pepperoni is vegetarian?”

Customer #1: “I don’t know. It might be.”

(They continue this discussion of whether or not pepperoni is vegetarian until they get to the front of the line.)

Customer #1: *to vendor* “Excuse me, is the pepperoni vegetarian?”

Vendor: “No, it is not.”

Customer #1: “Okay, I’ll have a slice of cheese, then.”

Vendor: “I’m sorry but we’re all out of cheese.”

Customer #1: “My friend is a strict vegan, so he can’t have pepperoni. Do you think it’ll be okay if I just take the pepperoni off?”

Vendor: “W—”

Customer #2: “Yeah! He won’t mind! If we take it all off and tell him it’s vegan, he should believe us!” *to vendor* “One slice of pepperoni pizza, please!”

Vendor: *brief pause* “Okay, that’ll be [price].”

(The friends pay and leave as I make my way to the front of the line.)

Me: *through laughter* “Do they know vegans can’t eat cheese, either?”

Vendor: “They’re about to find out!”

Your Assumptions Are Mud

, , , , | Working | February 23, 2018

(My mother owns an apartment building, and I live on the bottom floor while she lives in a room above me. One night I hear a trickling sound. We believe our pipes are leaking and there’s waste-water coming down my ceiling. With it being so late, there isn’t much we can do but shut off the water main, which means leaving our tenants without water for who knows how long. It’s very hot, being just the beginning of summer, and my mom doesn’t want to put anyone out. So, I’m sent to the store to pick up some kegs of water for everyone. When I get there I see that only two are out, and I need three, so I ask if they have anymore in stock downstairs in the stockroom. They do, and the woman working says a guy will bring some up for me. This older, scraggly looking man arrives with a box to open and unload more water, looking kind of miffed that he had to be bothered, while I stand to the side with my wagon waiting.)

Stock Guy: “You know, back in my day we drank from the faucet!”

(It takes me a moment of shock to realize he must think I’m buying these all because I’m “too good” for tap water. When I quickly get over it, I explain in a not-so-kind manner:)

Me: “Well, back in your day, our pipes worked. These are for all the tenants in our building to wash up with and stuff. Otherwise, they’d have mud.”

(The guy looked really embarrassed! Serves him right for openly judging. We did fix the problem the next day, thankfully.)

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