Going To Tile A Lawsuit

, , , | Right | March 2, 2018

Me: *answers phone* “[Company], how can I help?”

Caller: “You sent me the wrong tiles; I want to return them for a refund.”

Me: “Oh, I am sorry. What is wrong with the tiles?”

Caller: “They are the wrong color.”

Me: “I am sorry. I can exchange them for the correct color, if you need.”

Caller: “No, I want a refund.”

Me: “Okay, you will have to return them to [Company address].”

Caller: “I can’t do that; I have already installed them.”

Me: “They are the wrong color, and you have installed them, and you want a refund? I am sorry; I cannot do that.”

(The caller gets very angry and begins to list off government laws around providing good quality and displayed products, and explain why she is entitled to a refund.)

Me: “I have studied these laws and acts regarding this. There is also a section saying if the goods can not be removed without destroying them, the supplier does not have to rectify the situation. These tiles are cemented to the floor; you cannot get them up.”

Caller: “I won’t stand for this. I will get my lawyer involved.”

(Two weeks later, a letter from a lawyer detailing the story above arrived, addressed to me. I emailed the lawyer a signed copy of the customer’s sales agreement, stating that the color ordered was what she got, and also a summary of what had been discussed over the phone. All I got back from the lawyer was, “Thank you. Please consider this closed.”)

Hitting The Bottoming Of The Barrel

, , , , , | Related | February 20, 2018

(My mother and I are preparing to make plum jam while my dad and sister sit nearby. My dad is hard of hearing and we all have a twisted sense of humour.)

Mum: “That should be enough jars for the bottling.”

Dad: “Did you say, ‘bottoming’?”

Me: “Wrong containment vessel. We’re using glass, not a**.”

Sister: “Yeah, Dad. Plums, not bums.”

Flights Of Fancy

, , , , , | Right | February 15, 2018

(This previous weekend we held a giant expo and trade fair, where our suppliers offered generous discounts for people who booked reservations or tickets. It was hugely successful. The major condition about it all, however, was that you had to book on those two weekend days, otherwise the prices went back to normal. I am sitting at my desk, four days after the expo, when this occurs. A customer walks in.)

Customer: *yelling* “I want to be served!”

Me: “Welcome! Take a seat! How can I help you today?”

Customer: “I want to talk about the Travel Expo.” *pulls out a full colour newspaper ad from previous weekend’s paper* “I want this price to fly to Los Angeles. For two people.”

Me: “Okay! Unfortunately, those prices were for that weekend only. They are no longer being advertised at that price.”

Customer: *yelling* “I KNOW THAT! I CAN READ!”

(The customer pulls out a sandwich and begins to eat it, dropping food all over my desk and the floor.)

Me: “Um… Would you like me to find flights that might suit you better?”

Customer: “Find me good flights!”

(I do a thorough search, and I am not able to match any prices that resemble the amazing deal offered that weekend. I find the best solution, and I offer it to her. In the meantime, she has been reading the fine print on the advertising.)

Me: “So, the price will be [higher price]. This is the closest I can get to the advertised fare that was being shown at the Expo.”

Customer: “That is disgusting! I want this fare!” *points at ad*

Me: “I would love to be able to give you that price, but as you can see, it was for a limited time.”

Customer: *attempts to stare me down while eating and dropping her sandwich all over my desk area* “I want this price.”

Me: “I cannot give you that price, I am afraid. It was last weekend only.”

Customer: *screeching* “I CAN READ THE FINE PRINT!”

Me: “Would you like me to book you the [higher price] flights? As you’re wanting to fly over the Christmas holiday period, these are very good prices.”

Customer: “NO! You disgust me!”

(The customer throws herself out of the chair and stomps out of the store. At this point my boss walks past.)

Boss: “Have you been eating at your desk?”

Unable To Comprehend Such Weighty Concepts

, , | Right | February 1, 2018

(In a small store that carries particular seasonal foods, the current harvest of a popular food has been absolutely minuscule, less than a third of what the previous year was. To that end, my boss rules that people cannot buy more than 1 kg of the food, and no discounts are to be given. In previous years, we’ve had larger bags with bulk discounts, but, of course, not this year. We have signs up stating this, and we remind people if they try and buy more. This customer is a little old woman I see once a year when she buys these things.)

Customer: “I see there is a sign telling me how much for one kilo of these, but I would like to buy five kilos. How much for five kilos?”

Me: “I’m sorry, due to the shortage this year, I cannot sell you five kilos. I can only sell you one kilo.”

Customer: “Yes, yes, I see, but how much for five kilos?”

Me: “It’s [price] for one kilo, because you can only buy one kilo, because of the shortage.”

Customer: “Last year it was only [price] for a kilo, and I want to buy five for [last year’s price].”

Me: “Due to the shortage, the price has gone up, and we are only letting people buy one kilo. I cannot sell you more than that. One kilo.”

Customer: “But I want to buy five kilos.”

(This goes on with me saying at least four different permutations of, “You can’t.” Eventually, I pick up the phone, call my boss at our other store, and give the customer the phone. He attempts to explain three more times before she seems to get it.)

Customer: “All right, one kilo. I’ll come back later to get five?”

Me: *head-desk*

Pot Calling The Kettle Black, Noisily

, , , , | Healthy | January 29, 2018

I have to have emergency surgery. After some time in the recovery ward, I am wheeled into a double-occupancy room, but there’s no one in the other bed. I wake up a little later to find the curtains between the beds drawn, and correctly assume I now have a roommate. I hear her whimpering often, but I think nothing of it, because I’m whimpering, too.

We are both checked hourly, but we have different nurses, so basically there’s someone coming in every half hour or so. Whenever my obs are being done, I can hear her huffing and sighing, the way people do when they’re trying to sleep but someone’s making too much noise. I feel a bit guilty, but what can I do about it?

During the night, I hear her groaning whenever she tries to move. I’m doing the same, so I am quite shocked when she rather curtly says, “Can you keep it down, please? You’re always moaning and groaning! I am trying to sleep here!”

I say nothing. I’m in too much pain and too drugged up to attempt a comeback or an argument.

Later that morning, I’m woken up by loud voices and ear-piercing squeals. My roommate’s family are visiting. She has two small children who are yelling and squealing and fighting with each other. They zoom around the room, pulling the curtains between our beds back and forth, playing in the wheelchairs, and often bumping into my bed, causing excruciating pain. Her husband is loud and gregarious, and neither of them make even the slightest effort to control their kids.

I’m overwhelmed and hurting and I start to cry. The nurse comes in to do my obs, takes one look at the scene, and barks at the father and kids to keep it down, that they’re in a hospital, and that there are a lot of sick people who are trying to rest. She then manipulates me into a wheelchair and says that now would be a good time to take me for a shower, to get away from the noise. As I’m being wheeled out, I hear my roommate say to her husband, “God, she can talk! She’s kept me up all night whining and carrying on!”

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