You Passed With Multiple Flying Colors

, , , , | | Right | May 20, 2019

(I work at a fast food chain that also sells ice cream cakes. We are currently running a donation promotion where customers can donate $2 to our local children’s hospital and receive $4 in coupons towards products in the store. A female customer walks in and goes directly to the freezer to look at the cakes.)

Me: *to customer* “Is there any specific cake you were looking for today?”

Customer: “I want the caramel-flavoured cake.”

Me: “Unfortunately, we’re currently out of stock. For that kind of cake, we only have the raspberry flavour.”

Customer: *looking at the raspberry cake* “It was like this, but caramel.”

Me: “Yes, we currently don’t have that particular cake in stock, but we have plenty of other cakes to choose from.”

Customer: *rolls her eyes and struts away* “I’m very disappointed.”

(She finally decides on a cake and approaches the register. She continues to roll her eyes and make “disappointed” faces at me.)

Customer: “I tried to call to order the caramel cake last night but no one answered.”

Me: “Yeah, it was probably pretty busy last night. But if you had called to order one, we wouldn’t be able to do it for today because it’s a special cake and we need 48 hours notice.”

Customer: “Can you write, ‘Happy Birthday,’ on the cake? I want it multi-coloured.”

Me: “Sure.” *as I’m ringing in the order* “Would you like to donate $2 to—“

Customer: “No. I do not want to donate anything. I just want this cake.”

(I proceed to write on her cake. Writing in multiple colours takes a little bit longer than usual.)

Customer: “Well, that took longer than expected.”

Me: “I’m sorry. When we write in multiple colours, it takes longer because we have to switch colours so many times.”

(She rolls her eyes and makes a face. I’m fed up with her attitude.)

Me: “Oh, and if you had let me finish earlier, if you had donated $2 I would have taken $3 off of the cake, so you would end up saving $1, as well as helping sick children. Anyway, enjoy your cake!”

Unfiltered Story #151665

, , | | Unfiltered | May 20, 2019

Customer: I need a USB for my printer.

Me: A USB cord? To connect to your computer?

Customer: Yes

Me: They’re right over here. (I show him the cords) You have three lengths to choose from here.

Customer: No, that won’t fit. I need a USB cable.

Me: Yes, this is a USB cable. The USB part goes into your computer, and the square part goes into your printer.

Customer: Nah, nope, my printer doesn’t have that square part. it has a USB port.

Me: Is the USB port by any chance in the front of the printer?

Customer: Yeah!

Me: That’s so you can put in a USB stick, to print directly from that, instead of from the computer.

Customer: But that’s all there is.

Me: The square plug would be at the back, probably very close to where you plug the power cord into.

Customer: Nah, nope. It doesn’t have that. It has the USB port. I need a USB cable.

Me: That USB port on your printer isn’t for connecting to the computer.

Customer: Why not?

Me: Because, I told you already that it’s for printing directly from USB sticks.

Customer: Yeah well my printer doesn’t have a square plug.

Me: Do you want me to show you on our display printers?

(I show him about 6 different models and brands of printers, and show him that all the ports are the same, and located in relatively the same spot)

Customer: Nah, mine doesn’t have that.

Me: It does. Maybe you just couldn’t find it.

Customer: Well I’m not going to spend 30 bucks on something that’s not going to fit in my printer.

Me: I guarantee you it will fit. I’m 110% sure.

Customer: Nah. (and he left without buying a cable.)

Must Have Learned Geography At Trump University

, , , , , | | Right | May 18, 2019

(I work in a clothing store that does custom prints and embroideries. We also sell patches of flags with the country’s names next to them. Although most of them are countries, we have one design that is the Confederate flag, with “REBEL” written next to it.)

Customer #1: “Look, they have country flags!”

Customer #2: “Brazil, Canada, Chile, China… Wow, that’s a lot. But what kind of country is ‘Ree-bell’? I’ve never heard of that one before.”

Customer #1: “I think that’s one of the Mexican countries.”

Customer #2: “Yeah, I think you’re right. It does sound a bit Mexican.” *poorly imitating a Hispanic accent* “Rrree-bell! Arriba!”

(Dear God, why?)

This Vet Is Worming His Way Around Your Cat

, , , , , | | Healthy | May 17, 2019

(I set up an appointment for my cat to get his annual exam and vaccines at the vet clinic that my boyfriend and I have been taking him to since we first brought him home at three months old. He is now two-and-a-half years old, meaning with all his kitten appointments — booster shots, sterilization, etc. — we have taken him in a total of seven times prior to this. Up until this point, we have always seen the same vet, and our cat is very comfortable with her, often purring through his appointments. The day before the appointment, I get a phone call:)

Receptionist: “Hi, [My Name]! I’m calling to confirm [Cat]’s appointment for tomorrow at [time two-and-a-half hours later than the appointment was scheduled for].”

Me: “Um, I scheduled that appointment for [appointment time].”

Receptionist: “We don’t have any slots available at [time]. We can try to fit you in between appointments, but I can’t guarantee time for a full exam and vaccines.”

Me: “I scheduled this appointment weeks ago, even picking a later date, because [time] worked best with my boyfriend’s schedule and he’s the only one who drives. There’s no way you can give me the time my appointment was scheduled for?”

Receptionist: “I have it in my system that your appointment was scheduled for [two-and-a-half hours later].”

Me: “Whatever, I’ll take it, I guess. I want to stress though that I would never have picked an appointment that late; there’s no way this error was on my end.”

Receptionist: “Okay, well, don’t forget to bring in a fecal sample.”

Me: “Fecal sample? We’ve never had to bring a fecal sample before.”

Receptionist: “It’s a standard part of every annual physical.”

Me: “It’s not going to cost anything extra, is it? I just moved two weeks ago, and it cost more than I’d thought, so my money’s pretty tight for the rest of the month. I can’t afford to pay anymore than what I am for the physical and vaccines.”

Receptionist: “It’s a standard part of every physical; don’t worry.”

(Luckily, my boyfriend is able to move some things around so I don’t have to take the cat on the bus to get to the appointment. We get to the appointment and discover that the vet our cat has seen since his very first appointment is not the vet he will be seeing this time. The vet who examines our cat seems incredibly underqualified, and much more concerned about selling us products we do not need than about the health and wellbeing of our cat. It’s worth noting here that while he is technically a Domestic Short Hair, we’re reasonably certain our cat has some Bengal in him, due to his size. He measures around three feet long, which is double the average length for a DSH. After weighing our cat:)

Vet: “He weighs 15 pounds!”

Me: “Well, he is pretty big, so that’s not too surprising; that’s only a couple pounds more than I thought.”

Vet: “He needs to lose weight! He should be an eight-pound cat! What are you guys feeding him?!” *looking at boyfriend*

Boyfriend: “He lives with her, so she can answer that better than I can.”

Me: “Up until two weeks ago he was on [Brand] dry food, which I found gave him that little bit of pudge on his tummy, but he only gained about a pound or two. I would have changed his food, but my old roommate had a cat with a really sensitive stomach, and her cat couldn’t handle the food we had [Cat] on. When I moved I changed him to [Cetter Crand], and he’s been doing a lot better on it. He also gets one can of wet food each night, but we don’t have a strict brand for that; it’s just to make sure he gets enough water, since he’s pretty bad at drinking enough.”

Vet: “Do you free-feed him?”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, we always have.”

Me: “It’s monitored free-feeding, though, now. My old roommate like to truly free-feed, but I always make sure to track how much he’s eating. He always has food in his bowl, but I measure it and make sure he’s only getting two servings of dry food, and his one serving of wet food.”

Vet: “You need to stop free-feeding. He only needs three servings of food a day.”

Me: “As I said, I measure his food. He’s always been a grazer, though, so putting him on a feeding schedule won’t work, because he only eats a few bites at a time. It takes him anywhere from 8 to 12 hours to empty his bowl.”

Vet: “Well, it might be hard at first, but eventually he’ll learn that if he doesn’t eat when the food goes out, he won’t eat at all.”

Me: “No, I’m not doing that to my cat. He’s not that pudgy, and aside from that, I just adopted a second cat, and she also free-feeds. It’s working really well, considering she needs a smaller serving size, and quite frankly, they both undereat anyway.”

(The vet then spends another ten minutes scolding us for letting our cat get so “horrifically overweight,” and trying to sell us a specialty diet food that is way out of our price range. She finally gives up when my boyfriend and I start getting snappy with her.)

Vet: “Okay, how has [Cat]’s behaviour been lately?”

Me: “As I mentioned a few minutes ago, I just adopted a second cat three days ago, so right now they’re having their territory and dominance disputes. Before that, though, there was nothing out of the ordinary.”

Vet: *reaches into cupboard and pulls out a spray bottle* “You should try this; it’s a synthetic pheromone that mimics the one mother cats let off to calm down kittens. It can help with the fighting if the cats aren’t getting along.”

Me: “Thanks, but I’m not going to bother right now. I don’t really have the money for that, and it’s only been three days. When [Cat] was introduced to my old roommate’s cats, it took him about a week to adjust. If it goes on longer than that, then we’ll look into it.”

(The vet then spends another five minutes trying to pressure us into buying the spray, and implying that the two cats should be best friends by this point.)

Vet: “Have you had [Cat] treated for fleas?”

Me: “Yes! Because I was moving, and my old roommate was having someone take my room, who has her own cat, we treated all the cats in the apartment over the two weeks before I left. His last treatment was the day before I left, and that should have prevented him from getting anything during the move, as well.”

Vet: “You did just bring a new cat home, though. Was she treated?”

Me: “Yes, the shelter treated her shortly before we adopted her. I also looked her over a couple times to be sure.”

Vet: “Well, they should each be treated at least one more time before winter. I can do a course of [High-End Brand] treatment for [astronomically high price], if you want to set an appointment for that.”

Me: “No, thank you. They’re both indoor cats and only go outside on the leash occasionally in the summer. When they do, I give them a preventative OTC treatment from [Pet Store], and I check them to be safe. I also do a couple preventative treatments if they haven’t gone outside, just in case something makes it into the building, because he sometimes runs into the hallway.”

(Cue more selling pressure, and scolding. By the time that finishes, we are half an hour into the appointment, and the only part of the exam she’s done is weighing the cat. She finally starts the rest of the exam, and we notice right away that she isn’t handling our cat properly at all. She has made no effort to get him comfortable with her; instead she is flipping between being overly hesitant and grabbing him roughly. He starts to get defensive, trying to jump off the table, and even baring his teeth at her, which is incredibly out of character. He’s a very social, non-aggressive cat, usually. I try to comfort him.)

Vet: “Stay out of the way.” *shoos me back*

(The vet skips half his exam, refusing to go near his mouth or paws, and not offering us any information on his health. When the exam finishes and the vaccination is completed, it is time to pay for the visit. The total was much higher than we anticipated, even with estimating higher than last year’s physical and vaccination.)

Me: “Why is it so much?”

Receptionist: “That’s because the fecal sample is an additional charge.”

Me: “You mean the fecal sample I was told was ‘standard for an annual exam,’ and led to believe was included in the price? It’s only a few dollars less than the exam was!”

(At this point, our cat was angry, stressed, and trying to claw his way out of his carrier, so we swallowed our anger and paid in the interest of getting our cat home as quickly as possible. It took me 20 minutes to convince my boyfriend — who hadn’t been able to make any of the previous vet appointments — that that is not how they usually go, and that the old vet would have been done the exam in the time this one spend scolding us and trying to sell us things. It took an additional 20 minutes to calm our cat down. The fecal test results came back the next day and I was informed it was ringworm, then given information that contradicted that diagnosis. I took both of our cats to a different vet a few days later, and upon explaining to the new vet what happened, he was appalled. He took extra care to make sure both cats were comfortable, especially before going near their tummies. When he received the fecal test results from the first clinic, I was informed it was actually roundworm and had probably come from one of the other cats at the shelter. I had them treated immediately and confirmed with the veterinarian that had we treated them for the original diagnosis, it would have done nothing to help, as ringworm is a fungal infection, whereas roundworm is a parasite. Ultimately, it worked out for the best, because we found a vet who truly cares about the wellbeing of our cats. And the cats, for the record, are best friends now, no synthetic pheromone spray needed.)

Unfiltered Story #150928

, , , | | Unfiltered | May 13, 2019

(We have a notoriously uncooperative customer that comes through drive thru almost every sunday and order the “Sunday Special.” She never explains herself, and only ever refers to it as the Sunday Special. All three staff, including myself and the supervisor, are new to this store and have never worked a sunday before this)

Cashier: “May I take your order please?”

Customer: “Sunday Special”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what that means”

Customer: “I want your manager”

Supervisor: “I’m the supervisor for this shift, how may I help you?”

Customer: “You need to take my order. She doesn’t know it”

Supervisor: “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you’re asking for either. But I’d be happy to ring it in for you if you tell us.”

Customer: “I’ve been coming here for years. Find the young lad that knows it”

*they both look at me*

Me: “This is my first sunday, too. I have no clue what she means”

Supervisor: “I’m sorry, but we have several male employees and only one of them is working right now. He isn’t familiar. But if you’d like to tell us what you’d like, I’d be more than happy to make it for you”

This back and forth goes on for over 5 minutes, with her repeatedly saying that “everyone knows her order” and “she’s been coming here for years” Finally, we get it out of her. It was a plain hamburger, with lettuce and tomato on the side. 5 minutes for something that could have taken us 30 seconds)

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