A Comedy Of Errors

, , , , | Right | February 2, 2019

(There is another concert theater near the one where I work, and we get calls about their performances a lot. Most people just accept their mistake and end the call when we tell them they’ve got the wrong box office, but not this guy.)

Me: “[Theater] box office; how can I help you?”

Customer: “Hi there. I just saw an ad for [Concert] at [Other Theater]. How do I get tickets for that?”

Me: “You’ve reached the [Theater] box office, not the [Other Theater] box office, so you would have to contact them. I believe they also sell tickets on [Popular Ticketing Site] but I’m not certain.”

Customer: “I know you’re not the same theater. Anyway, how much are those tickets?”

Me: “Well, sir, you would have to contact [Other Theater] for that information.”

Customer: “Oh! Well, I just thought that you would know that since you’re in the same area.”

Me: “We’re not affiliated with [Other Theater].”

Customer: “Okay, then. Bye.”

(I wonder if he goes to restaurants and asks about their competitors’ menus?)

Not A Defective Loophole

, , , , , , | Working | January 28, 2019

(In the 1970s, my dad gets a new piece of stereo equipment. It costs him a good chunk of his “starving student” budget — in all honesty, a larger chunk than is wise — so he’s very careful in bringing it home and setting it up. Despite the TLC, however, the equipment doesn’t work. Just flat-out knackered. Pining for the fjords. A very expensive paperweight. So, he puts it back in its box and takes it and his receipt back to the store.)

Dad: “Hi. I’d like to return some defective equipment.”

Clerk: “Do you have the receipt?”

Dad: “Yup.”

Clerk: “Sure, we can do that. Just give it here and… Wait. Sorry, the box has been opened. We can’t accept a return, only exchange it.”

Dad: “What? How was I supposed to know it was defective without taking it out?”

(Apart from the issue of money in his youth, which he freely admits these days he was daft with, my dad is a logical, intelligent person. The idea that he should psychically determine whether an item is defective before opening the box offends his scientific sensibilities. As to why he requests a return instead of an exchange in the first place, I suspect the penny dropped on the drive back that he needs the money more. But in any event, this happens:)

Clerk: “Sorry, sir. That’s the rule; I can’t change it.”

Dad: “Okay, can I talk to someone higher up?”

Clerk: “Sure.”

(The clerk gets the manager, who asks my dad what the problem is. My dad explains. The manager reiterates that, indeed, they can only exchange opened boxes, not accept returns on them.)

Dad: “Okay, I’ll exchange it, then.”

(The stereo equipment is exchanged for an unopened but otherwise identical item.)

Dad: “And now I’d like to return this one.”

(Up until now, I think everyone has behaved fairly reasonably, but at that, you’d think my dad had chucked a dead cat in the manager’s face.)

Manager: “YOU CAN’T DO THAT!”

Dad: “Why not? It’s unopened. You said I can return unopened items.”

Manager: “You can’t do that! It’s fraud! I’M CALLING THE POLICE!”

(And, no kidding, the manager calls 911 because a customer found a loophole.)

Cop: *when he shows up* “What’s going on?!”

(The manager relates the whole story honestly, just in a ranty way; he seems to genuinely believe that what my dad wants to do is fraud. My dad and the clerk both calmly agree on the facts of the situation.)

Cop: *laughs, addresses the manager* “He’s got you there. Give him his money back. I’m not leaving ’til you do.”

(The manager fumed, but my dad got his money back and left. The cop left, still chortling. Alas, history does not record if the poor clerk found a non-insane boss to work for.)

Unfiltered Story #138409

, , , | Unfiltered | January 28, 2019

(As is wont to happen with girls working in a game store, my employees get a lot of unwanted attention from male customers. One customer, who works with the mall management, has been buying the girls coffee every time he comes in but doesn’t give it to them until he’s pestered them and dropped hints about asking them out on dates. My employees didn’t mind him as he wasn’t overly sexual or creepy, and free coffee!!)
Female employee 1: Oh man, I just saw (Coffee Guy) walking towards us with the big bosses AND our coffee.
Me: Seriously, he’s gonna try picking you up in front of his bosses?? How tactful *dripping sarcasm*
Female Employee 2: *who was cleaning up near the front of the store* Yeah, and it’s all the bosses who treat us like idiots when they come in. *sigh*
Me: Oh that’s their head office crew, wonderful just what I want to start my day, listening to HIM while YOU get free coffee!
(We could hear the whole troupe of them getting closer, laughing, joking, being “corporates” and start walking past our 14ftx14ft front window. We see him gesture to the coffee before making an immediate left turn to enter our store. Unfortunately, the entrance wasn’t for another 3ft and he walked face (and coffee) first right into the window and all we saw was an Rorschach-esque explosion of coffee.Stunned for a second, everyone in my store and everyone outside the store immediately burst into laughter,)
Me: Oooh look a coffee butterfly! *before collapsing behind the counter trying not to laugh TOO loudly*
(The poor coffee-soaked Romeo, pushed himself off the glass and just stared down at his drenched suit, then took off running for the office building and as far away from the roaring laughter echoing behind him. Needless to say he rarely ever came in from that time on, my poor girls though, no more free coffee for them. AND mall management had to send people to clean our window, BONUS!)

Small Town Worries

, , , , , | Working | January 24, 2019

(I work in a small hotel in a small town in Canada. It is winter and we are dead. We do have a hockey tournament in town this weekend and three teams are staying with us, but they are all arriving tomorrow except for a small handful of rooms. Usually, when we are dead like this I read a book, or play on the computer, but I’ve been doing a lot of crochet projects for Christmas lately and I have one last project to finish in the next two days. Knowing we will be slow, I bring the project to work to try and finish before the weekend. I’ve done this before, though not often, and the owner and several staff members have seen me doing it before with no issue. For some reason, today is different.)

Owner: “You can’t be doing that at the desk.”

Me: *surprised but rolling with it* “Oh, okay.”

Owner: “When we are slow like this you should be on the computer, checking reservations to make sure we have all the information. If you’ve checked today’s, then check tomorrow and other upcoming days. Or go online and look up restaurant locations and local events so you can tell guests about them if they ask. Find out where the train station is so you can give directions to guests.”

Me: “Okay.”

(All the while, I was thinking to myself: “I’ve lived here for three years, and have been visiting my wife and her family here since we started dating almost eight years ago. I always took the train up, so I know where the train station is. We are a small town of about 25,000, and we are a river tourism town; there is NOTHING going on in town right now except for the hockey tournament that is all coming in tomorrow. If I check future reservations, I’ll be all the way into June or July — that’s how slow it gets here in the winter. I know and have been to almost all the restaurants in town with my wife or her family. Not sure what else you really want me to do here.” To appease the owner, I went and checked the guest information for that day and compared it to the other places we keep records; it was all accurate. That took two minutes. I went and looked at all the arrivals for that weekend. Three hockey teams were to arrive the next day, and some of them were missing info, but I couldn’t put it in until they arrived, anyway, so I was not sure what the point of that was. Ten more minutes. I checked out the local tourism website and found the events calendar. It was blank, just like I’d thought, but I did add the link to our desktop for future use. Five more minutes. I checked Google for all the local restaurants; they were all still open and none of them had moved. Three more minutes. Half an hour later, I’ve done everything the owner asked, so now I’m on NAR submitting this story before going to read some myself.)

Dealt With That Customer With Real Polish

, , , , | Right | January 23, 2019

Customer: “I’m looking for silver polish.”

Me: “Absolutely, that will be in aisle eighty wit—”

Customer: “NO, IT’S NOT! SOMEONE ELSE SENT ME TO AISLE EIGHTY AND IT’S NOT THERE!”

Me: “Okay, well, I can show you where it is.”

(I proceed to aisle eighty and turn to go down the aisle.)

Customer: “THIS IS AISLE EIGHTY, AND I’M NOT COMING DOWN THIS AISLE AGAIN!”

(I just continued down the aisle, picked up the silver polish, held it up, gave it a little shake, put it back on the shelf, and continued out the far end of the aisle.)

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