I live in Romania, and we have a lot of people from different countries working here — people from all over the world really, like Vietnam, Africa, etc.

I am serving some Nigerian customers who want to buy a pair of earphones. I am checking them for him to make sure they work. Up comes a local customer with a toaster in hand, and he can clearly see I am talking to another customer, but he interrupts anyway.

Customer: “Can you cash me out?”

Me: “Yes, I can, just after I finish with the customer in front of me.”

Customer: “Well, I think I should have priority in my own country.”

I just look at him and say:

Me: “No.”

Customer: *Angrily* “I want to speak to your superior!”

My superior comes by, and the customer starts b****ing about how I’m not doing my job properly.

Manager: “Why?”

Customer: “She prioritized a Black guy over me! She should be ashamed because she’s making me wait!”

Manager: “You’re right; she should have given you some more options than just waiting.”

Customer: “Finally! Someone who—”

Manager: “You can either wait in line or f*** off. I’m happy to offer these options as a manager.” 

He chose option two!

This story is part of the Editors’-Favorite-Stories Of-2023 roundup!

Read the next roundup story!

Read the roundup!

I have been a third-line tech support employee for six months, which means I am only called if very, very serious issues appear, but I have to be available twenty-four-seven.

We have a work phone that is passed between each technician every week. Usually, the calls are from actual clients that have urgent issues that we need to solve. Occasionally, a sweet, old grandma calls (the same one) who excuses herself when mistyping her grandchild’s phone number (or maybe she just wants someone to talk to).

One evening, though, I receive a call quite late.

Me: “Hello, tech support! What can I help you with?”

The caller says something I do not understand.

Me: “Excuse me, I did not quite understand what you said.”

The caller sounds a bit confused and then speaks something else, but this time I recognise the language as being Italian.

Me: “Sorry, I do not understand Italian. Would it be possible to speak in English or get someone who can speak it?”

The caller angrily swears in Italian and leaves the room where she has the phone. Then, I can hear two female voices in the background:

Second Caller: “Ciao.”

Me: “Ciao. Parlare Engles?”

I attempt to ask if she knows English in very broken Italian. The second caller doesn’t answer, I hear some commotion, and then she ends the call.

I thought to myself, “Okay, that was one weird call. I guess my colleagues will have a nice story to hear tomorrow during lunch.”

But wait. There’s more.

I get called again. I don’t check the number to see who is calling and answer directly.

Me: “Hello, tech support! How ca—”

Caller: *Angrily* “F*** you, you a**hole!”

This time it is in my native language which, for some reason, she knows I speak.

Caller: “Give me back my phone!”

Me: “That’s not a nice thing to say…”

Caller: “You stole my phone! Give it back!”

Me: “No, you have the wrong number. This is [Company] tech support.”

Caller: “You lying piece of s***! I know you’re lying; give it back!”

Me: “Insults won’t make me give you my work phone… You have the wrong number.”

Caller: *Another few swear words* “Give me back my phone or I’ll call the Carabinieri—” *the Italian police force* “—after you! I know where you live!”

Me: “Okay, call them! I do hope they like tea after such a long international drive.”

The caller swore again and then closed the call.

To this day, I still have the tea waiting for them… Still alone…

Someone bought a [Brand] phone from our company a few days ago. Today, they reach out through chat because, apparently, it isn’t turning on.

Me: “Hello! How may I help you today?”

Customer: “My phone isn’t turning on. Fix it.”

I ask all the questions about brand, etc., and then I ask if the phone is charged.

Customer: “I left it in the sun.”

Me: “Okay, but is it charged?”

Customer: “It was in the sun. What don’t you understand?”

Me: “I am sorry, I understand, but did you use the phone charger?”

Customer: “Why doesn’t it charge with solar energy?”

Me: *Pauses* “That’s not how your [Brand] phone works. I’m sorry.”

Customer: “I want my phone to charge like this.”

A few years back, I landed myself a cushy job as an Order-to-Cash Specialist, which, despite the somewhat pompous title, was basically about receiving orders by email and entering them into the systems. In many ways, it was a pointless job. The customer picks items in a catalogue, fills out an order form, sends it to us, and we (re-)enter it. Why not offer an online platform for the customers to begin with? But the pay was pretty decent for an entry-level gig, plus it was back office, meaning I didn’t have to actually talk to any customers.

I wasn’t hired as part of a group, but individually, so I was initially supposed to shadow my colleagues and learn the ropes that way. However, they were perpetually backlogged and thus had no time to train me, so I was pretty much left to my own devices. My team lead made no secret that I might as well go outdoors and enjoy the nice weather because there was absolutely nothing for me to do anyway.

Nice! I was getting paid roughly $8/€7.50 an hour after tax to fiddle and fart and lick sun. Plus, I enjoyed massive employee discounts in the food court of the nearby shopping mall. (And as my rent was $270/€250, I’d earned that amount in less than a week, so overall sweetness.)

After two or three weeks, my training actually began. I was given some training material, and with its help, I was to enter some dummy orders. Pretty straightforward stuff, except it turned out that the training material was hopelessly outdated, so I failed the first test — ironically because I did follow the instructions. “No biggie,” my team lead said. “We’ll just quickly update the material, and you can retake the test.” Sweet. And until then… yep, you nailed it: more fiddling and farting on company time.

The next week came, and it was time to retake the test. I did much better this time, but overall I still failed… because they had overlooked some sections of the material, so once again, I did it wrong because I did it “right”. Rinse and repeat; more updates, more fiddling and farting, and another week passed by.

The third time’s a charm, right? Nope. They still had forgotten to update some product codes and procedure abbreviations, so I failed again. If it’d been a group of new hires all failing in the exact same spots, maybe management would’ve seen a pattern and reacted accordingly. But as a solo flyer, it was my word against theirs. And after the third fail, they unceremoniously wished me good luck in my future endeavours.

Usually, I would’ve fought the termination, but at the time, I knew several recruiters and Human Resources people in other companies, so I wasn’t too perturbed. I got two months’ salary for d**king around for almost eight weeks (and scored two months’ rent in just two of them), so I just considered the whole experience to be paid vacation.  

However, I still can’t fathom how that company would rather waste two months’ salary on one employee doing absolutely nothing, and then waste more money on a whole new recruitment process, instead of just pulling one person out of production for one half or full day and properly updating the material once and for all. Heck, I could’ve helped, because I now knew firsthand where the glitches and potholes were. But their loss, I suppose.

I just ordered a pizza through a food ordering service. As my intercom is being repaired at the moment, I write everywhere I can that I can be contacted by the delivery man on my phone. Until now, I’ve had no problem and every delivery man has called me, and there have been a lot of instances with the current quarantine.

I am waiting patiently for the phone to ring when I hear a knock on the door.

Delivery Man: “Hello, sweetie. I tried so many times to call the intercom but you would not pick up.”

Me: “I am so sorry. I specified that it is not working.”

He throws me a sarcastic look.

Delivery Man: “How am I supposed to contact you, then?”

Me: “As I wrote in the app, you could’ve called me on my phone.”

Delivery Man: *Getting slightly annoyed* “Well, my phone was out of battery. You are lucky that your neighbors opened the front door. Otherwise, I couldn’t have brought you the order, as you were not picking up the intercom.”

Me: “Well, I am sorry again. But I do not have an intercom at the moment. As you can see, it is only a cable here. And you could’ve called me on my phone, as specified in the instructions I gave.”

He gives me the pizza. And I tip him, as I always do.

Delivery Man: *While leaving* “Well, you are lucky that your neighbors opened the door. But next time, I am not so sure.”

I just slowly closed the door, not knowing what else to say anymore. How about next time you read the instructions and also charge your phone?