Making Your Day A Little Dimmer

, , , | Right | April 30, 2021

In addition to mailing, we also sell packing supplies. A man comes in with a prepaid package to drop off, but the label isn’t attached.

Customer: “Can I get some packing tape?”

Me: “Sure, it’s right over there on the wall.”

Customer: “You mean I have to buy it? You can’t just give me tape?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you have to pay for the tape.”

Customer: “You’re a dimwit.”

He walks out, leaving my next customer to stare at him, shocked.

Next Customer: “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Me: “It’s okay. It happens fairly often, but that’s the first time I’ve ever been called a dimwit.”

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IDs Are The Dane Of My Existence

, , , | Right | April 24, 2021

Customer: “I have a parcel to collect, but I only have a Danish driver’s license. Will it work?”

The customer speaks Swedish without any perceptible Danish accent. But we are just a couple of hours from the border.

Me: “Sorry, but we do not accept foreign driver’s licenses. Do you have any other form of ID, maybe a passport, with you?”

Customer: *Angry* “How come the police accept foreign driver’s licenses but not you?!”

Me: “You have to ask [Postal Company]’s customer service about that. But if you give me your tracking ID, I can check what I can do.”

If he’s lucky, the parcel is sent as a “big letter” and doesn’t require any forms of identification. Otherwise, his best chance would be that the parcel happens to be addressed to his partner or someone else with a possible valid ID.

Customer: “It’s [tracking ID].”

I check the computer.

Me: “Hmmm… It still requires an ID… But the field for the recipient’s name is blank on my screen. If you just give me a second, I will check the parcel.”

It’s not unusual that the field is blank. There are many standards out in the world, and not everyone coincides with ours. I find the parcel, but I can’t find any name for a receiver. The tracking ID is correct, so it’s not the wrong parcel. After further examination, I find that the recipient’s name is a twelve-digit number. This is very odd, but I recognize it as a Swedish personal ID number. It belongs to a male and spells a birthdate that would match his appearance. While unusual, the sender is allowed to identify the receiver in any way they see fit — provided that they have an ID that can prove it. In this case, they need a Swedish ID. Bummer.

Me: “Sorry, I found the parcel, but it is addressed to a Swedish personal ID number, so I can only accept Swedish IDs.”

Customer: *Angry, and obviously not listening* “Then how come the police accept foreign driver’s licenses but not you?!”

Me: “Sorry, but I can’t hand out the parcel unless I have a Swedish ID so I can check the Swedish ID number.”

Customer: *Angry* “I want her to help me, instead!”

He points at my coworker, who has been helping other customers two metres away. She has heard and knows everything. She takes over, and I help the next person in line.

Coworker: “Sorry, but I can’t hand out that parcel without a Swedish ID.”

Customer: *Defeated, but not showing it* “Okay. But then give me a bet on [lottery] for twenty-five kronor.”

In compliance with anti-money laundering laws, the betting machine will not sell anything until it has confirmed the customer’s identity, which requires a… guess what.

Coworker: “Sorry, but I need a Swedish ID for that.”

The customer gave a roar of anger and left.

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The Working Class Usually Has More Class

, , , , , , | Right | April 16, 2021

I run a free postal service for the homeless in California. There are a lot of people experiencing mental illness, so you get used to unusual behavior. A woman comes to the office.

Woman: “Hi. I’m here to pick up my check. My name is [Woman].”

Me: *Checks the mailboxes* “I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t see any mail for you.”

Woman: “It should be there. I work for the CIA, and President Bush called me telling me my check was here.”

It’s 2016 and Obama is president. I just try to be nice because she’s clearly ill.

Me: “Well, have you received mail from them before? Maybe there’s a number you can call.”

Woman: “Oh, no. They communicate with me through a wire in my teeth.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything here for you.”

Woman: “It’s okay. I know it’s not your fault. I just need my money. Hope you have a good day.”

The next day, we get a telephone call. We can’t check mail over the phone due to staff shortage and overflow of clients.

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Man: “Hi, my name is [Man]. Can you check my mail, please?”

Me: “I’m sorry, we can’t check over the phone, but you’re welcome to come to the office.”

Man: “I work full-time, ma’am. I don’t have time to stand in line with all those r****ds.”

Me: *Shocked* “Sir, we don’t use that kind of language here.”

Man: “Well, I think you’re r****ded for working with them!” *Click*

To this day, I can’t get over how the lady, who was sick and suffering, managed to have more class than the “working man.”

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In Line And Out Of Line, Part 18

, , , | Right | April 16, 2021

I stop at the post office to send a package. Only ten people are allowed in the post office at one time due to social distancing. I am waiting outside the door when a man walks up right behind me, no mask in sight.

Customer: “You going in?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m next.

Customer: “So… go in.

Me: “They’re at capacity.”

I point at the sign right in front of us.

Customer: “Just go in.

Me: “Not yet.”

I turn away from him.

Customer: “If you’re not gonna go, I’m getting in front of you.

Me: “You need to back the f*** up and wait your turn. Kindergarteners can do it; so can you.”

The man took a step back — now a whole three feet from me — and kept making snide comments about everything from my “useless mask” to my disrespectful attitude. It was a whopping five minutes before a customer came out so I could go in. He tried to follow right after, but someone was inside the door.

In Line And Out Of Line, Part 17
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 16
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 15
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 14
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 13

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My, Aren’t We Feeling Entitled Today?, Part 5

, , , | Right | March 26, 2021

I work at a pack-and-ship store that is almost always VERY busy. This afternoon has been slower than usual, and when this particular customer walks in, she only has about four people ahead of her.

The second she walks in, she starts sighing dramatically and glaring at the people in front of her. I don’t want my new coworker — who has been working here for less than a month — to have to deal with her because I can already tell she’s going to be a problem, so I try to watch my coworker’s speed and adjust mine to time it so the rude customer will have to come to my register. Everyone’s transactions are relatively quick — mostly drop-off packages — and by the time the rude customer gets to the counter, she’s only been waiting about two minutes.

Me: “Hi! How are you doing today?”

Customer: *Sarcastically* “Oh, juuuust great.”

Me: “Great! So what do we have going on today?”

She wordlessly holds up a sweatshirt and glares at me.

Me: “Okay, is this something you’re shipping out or is it an [Shopping Website] return?”

Customer: “Ugh! I’m shipping it!”

Me: “That’s perfect! Did you want to ship it out in a box or a bag?”

Customer: “Which is cheaper?”

Me: “The bag.”

Customer: “Then, obviously, I want the bag!”

Me: “Okay, there’re bags right over on the retail wall there. If you want to go ahead and grab one, then we’ll take care of getting all your shipping info.”

Customer: “Oh, no, I’m not doing that. Whatever. How much is the box?”

Me: “I’ve got one this’ll fit into pretty perfectly; it’s $4.50 plus tax.”

Customer: “Fine, do that.”

While I put the box together and cut it down to an appropriate height, the customer starts looking at the greeting cards we have. This isn’t unusual, and the vast majority of the time, customers tend to buy the cards to take with them, instead of putting them in the box to ship with their item.

Customer: “Hey! You!”

She waves a greeting card in the air.

Customer: “How much is this?”

Me: “Um, I think that one is $3.99? There should be a price on the back of it.”

Customer: “It’s $3.95. You don’t even know y’all’s prices. Oh, my God.”

Me: “Did you need that to go with the sweatshirt or is that something separate?”

Customer:Obviously, it’s going with it! Why else would I pick it up?!”

I come back up to the counter with her box and start to get her shipping information. More people have come in now. My new coworker is working on a customer with multiple packages going to different locations, so I know she’s going to be tied up a while. The store owner comes up to help anyone who needs copies done or faxes sent, but without a computer, he can’t help anyone with ship or drop off packages.

Me: “What’s your phone number?”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “I need it for our shipping program. If anything were to happen to your package, it would come back to us and we’d give you a call.”

She gives me her phone number and nothing comes up, which means she hasn’t shipped with our company before, so I have to get her name and her address. This annoys her, as well, but after some moaning and groaning, she finally just hands me her driver’s license. I input the info we need and hand it back to her. She gives me the info for where it’s going to but sort of mumbles over the recipient’s last name.

Me: “Could you spell that last name for me?”

She mumbles the spelling.

Me: “And was that M like ‘Mary,’ or N like ‘Nancy’ in the middle there?”

Customer: “It wasn’t no Mary or Nancy, it was [Last Name]! Ugh! I don’t know why I came here. Y’all are never nothing but rude!

I take a guess at the spelling and print off the label. She’s writing in the card she wants to send.

Me: “Please just take a glance at this paperwork here and double-check my typing on where it’s going. If anything needs to change, let me know. If it all looks good, I’ll get your signature down at the bottom.”

Customer: “You’re not gonna rush me.”

Me: “I’m not trying to. Since it looks like you still need a minute, I’m just going to suspend this transaction. Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll be right back with you to ring you out.”

Customer: “No!”

She spreads her stuff over my entire section of counter and moves so she is standing in front of the card reader.

Customer: “I’m the customer and I’m the one at the counter, so I am the most important person to you right now!”

Me: “Okaaay. Can I go ahead and ring you out so we can use the register for other customers? Your total was $22.”

Customer: “What’s the breakdown?”

I provide the breakdown quickly.

Customer: “Why are you acting so offended?! All I did was ask you a question!”

Me: “I’m not offended; all I did was answer your question. We’ve just got a bunch of people waiting, most of whom just need to be rung out for copies or faxes… so if you’ll just insert your card, then you can take as much time as you would like to fill out your greeting card there.”

Customer:I’m not gonna be rushed! Y’all are so rude here!”

Customer #2: “She isn’t the one being rude.”

Customer: *To [Customer #2]* “Well, it’s rude to eavesdrop on people’s conversations, so you’re just as bad as them!”

Me: “Ma’am, I just need to be able to use this register to help other customers, as well. If you don’t mind, either step aside and I’ll ring you out when you’re ready, or I can go ahead and get you rung out now and then we’ll put the card in the box when you’re ready.”

Customer:No! I’m the most important person right now! I’m the customer at the counter!”

I turn to the line of about twelve people waiting.

Me: “I’m so sorry, guys. We’ll be with everyone as soon as we can!”

Customer #3: “It’s no problem, sweetie. It’s not your fault that some people think the world revolves around them.”

Other customers in line murmur in agreement. My coworker has finally finished with her customer and is able to start getting the line down pretty quickly. Her register is just a little further down from mine, so people have to walk past my customer to get to the other register. Most people make snippy remarks as they pass her, and with every comment, she starts writing slower and slower. She FINALLY finishes.

Customer:Now you can ring me out. Was it really that hard for you to be polite to the customer who was directly in front of you? I just want you to know that I don’t like you, and if I had a business, you would be fired. Actually, you wouldn’t even be hired because you’re so rude and you don’t know how to act around customers!”

[Customer #2] has just been hanging out in the store, talking with our store owner.

Customer #2: “Well, I do have a business, and if I had hired her, I would give her a raise for keeping such a level head while dealing with an entitled a**hole like you!”

My customer finally paid. I handed her her receipt and told her that I hoped she’d have an absolutely wonderful day. She shot eye daggers at me, my coworker, my boss, and the other customer, and stormed out without another word.

My, Aren’t We Feeling Entitled Today?, Part 4
My, Aren’t We Feeling Entitled Today?, Part 3
My, Aren’t We Feeling Entitled Today?, Part 2
My, Aren’t We Feeling Entitled Today?

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