If Only They Could All Talk That Way

, , , , , , | Right | September 19, 2019

(A woman is shouting at the worker behind the service desk at my local grocery store. I come up partway through her rant, but from what I gather, her ice cream and other groceries melted when she left them in her car while running errands. It being a hot summer day, it seems that her groceries getting warm came as a complete shock to this poor woman, and that she is incensed at the grocery store not somehow keeping them cold until she got home. The man behind the counter is an older gentleman who has been trying to console her, but as she continues shouting over him, his face slowly loses expression. After a bit, he lifts one hand in the air, and then slowly begins lowering it in quick, jerky increments. This startles the woman out of her diatribe.)

Customer: “What the h*** are you doing?!”

Worker: *glancing over at his hand and faking shock* “Oh, this? This is my ‘caring about your bulls***’ meter. As you can see, it’s getting rather low.”

(The woman gapes at him for a bit.)

Customer: “You… That… You can’t…”

Worker: “Can’t what? Put up with any more of your bulls***? Yeah, I can’t.” *shrugs* “I’m gonna retire at the end of the year, so I just can’t give a d*** about you being an idiot.”

Customer: “I- I- I’m gonna call your bosses. You can’t talk to customers this way!”

Worker: “Mmhmm. You go do that. Tell them my name’s [Worker]. Did you get that? [Worker].” *continues to shout after her as she storms out* “That’s [Worker] with a [letter]. You want me to spell it for you?”

Unfiltered Story #160060

, , , | Unfiltered | August 9, 2019

I used to work at a call center that was contracted with an insurance company. Right out of training, the very first call I took was for a customer looking for a gynecologist in her area. It was a pretty simple phone call, except she spent five minutes explaining, in graphic detail, why she needed to see a gynecologist. A wonderful first call…

Unfiltered Story #159081

, , , | Unfiltered | July 23, 2019

I work at a corporate office in downtown Salt Lake City, really close to Temple Square and other historical sites. One day, a woman and her silent friend wander into my lobby.

Tourist: Hi. We’re from out of town. Is this the Family History Library?

Me: (pointing to the sign right behind her that has the name of our company) No, this is the corporate office for Deseret Book. I can point you to the library, though.

Tourist: Oh, that would be great.

Me: Okay, so when you go back out these doors, you’ll want to head west on this street, then turn north on West Temple–

Tourist: Wait, wait. Give me specifics. Where exactly is it?

Me: It’s literally less than a block away.

Tourist: Okay, but WHERE?

Me: Well… I guess I can Google the address for you.

Tourist: Please do.

(I Google it quickly and give her the address.)

Tourist: (laughs as if I’m dense) Well, that means nothing to me–we’re not from here! We don’t know where that is! Just tell us how to get there!

Me: …Okay, then. (Slowly and clearly and as patiently as I can manage) When you go back out these doors, you’ll want to head west on this street, then turn north on West Temple…

(When I finally gave her exact, blow-by-blow directions to the library, she headed out with her friend, shaking her head.)

Tourist: You guys should really have maps for people.

Me: Again, this is a corporate office. If you go to Temple Square, though, I’m sure they have maps and loads of missionaries who would be more than happy to show you around.

Tourist: Oh, is this not part of Temple Square?

Me: …No. Temple Square is the big lot with the temple on it. This is a corporate office.

Tourist: This place is confusing.

I hate to see how she handles cities that aren’t laid out in an easy-to-navigate grid, and historic sites that are more than half a block away.

Tech Support Retort

, , , , , | Working | June 17, 2019

(A minor note before I go into this story. I work in tech support. We’re not talking the “have you rebooted it,” outsourced type, but serious tech support — the kind that deals with digging through code to fix issues, patching, and some hardware support. Recently, I found myself thinking about upgrading my graphics card, not because I really needed one, but I thought it’d be just a nice change compared to what I had. So, with that in mind, I head down to the local big-box tech store on my way home after work. I head inside, wander back to the parts department, and start looking through the shelves for the specific card I’ve had my eye on. It’s about this time that one of the salesmen approaches.)

Sales: “Finding everything you need?”

Me: “Not entirely sure.”

Sales: “Well, what do you need help with?”

Me: “I’m looking at getting a new graphics card, but…”

Sales: *cutting me off* “Well, it depends what you’re doing with it. Take this—“ *grabs a cheap card* “—It’s good for most things, but you don’t want that. Nah, you need this.” *grabs the most expensive card*

Me: “You think so, huh?”

Sales: “Oh, yeah. I’m an expert!”

Me: *muttering* “Sure, you are.” *aloud* “I get that you’re trained in these things to some degree, but you didn’t let me finish explaining the issue.”

Sales: *rolling his eyes* “Oh, go on, then.”

Me: “As I was about to say, I’m looking for a graphics card, but I’m not sure what kind of connector this type has, or if it’s for a laptop or tower. It doesn’t say it on the box, and I need a specific type to fit my system.”

Sales: “They’re all the same thing! I don’t know what gives you the idea they’re different.”

Me: “Education, training, experience…”

Sales: “What?”

Me: “Ever hear of [Well-Known Tech Support Company]?”

Sales: “Yes. And?”

Me: *producing badge* “I’m a technical support agent for them. So, yeah, the connections are different. I don’t need the upsell into something more expensive than what I want, and I don’t need the condescending ‘I know everything’ attitude. I just need to know what kind of connection this is, or if it’s for a laptop or tower.”

Sales: “Whatever. They’re the same [censored] thing! Here.” *grabbing a box off the shelf* “That’s the one you want.”

(With that he left. I ended up having to go back a second time, returning the one he picked up when I found out that yes, it was a laptop card. I also had a long talk with the department’s manager and the store manager about my experience. They ended up trading me the PC version — which was fifty bucks more — even for the laptop card I’d picked up, and assured me that they were going to have a long sitdown with that employee. I got the impression that this wasn’t the first time something like that had happened.)

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Unfiltered Story #149578

, , , | Unfiltered | May 6, 2019

(I am a cashier at a burger place, my boyfriend is on break and I’m working alone except for the cook. A lady comes up to the counter.)

Me: Hi– (She cuts me off.)

Lady: How much is a California veggie burger?

Me: (I don’t know the prices off the top of my head and our prices are wrong on the signboard. I can’t check on the register without charging someone.) I wanna say it’s about 6 bucks.

Lady: How much is the combo?

Me: It’s probably 9 or 10 bucks.

Lady: You’re telling me it’s more than the regular burger?

Me: Yes. I’m not sure why. The avocado adds a dollar or two.

Lady: Show me! I don’t see it.

Me: (I point to it but the price is wrong.) Our prices are different now, but it’s under sandwiches.

Lady: It’s more expensive?!

Me: (A little fed up from the night, as it’s near closing.) I don’t make the prices, I just work here.

Lady: Well, I think we need more honest people in the world! Don’t you?! We need more honest people in the world!

Me: Uh–

Lady: Oh you’re not from here? Too bad! (She slams her hands on the counter.) I guess I’ll get to have a real goodbye! (She starts dancing.) Goodbye! (She backs away but comes back.) I want fries!

Me: (Fuming at this point.) For here?

Lady: Large fry. Yes for here! (Still dancing, while I put it into the register.) Are you new? I haven’t seen you around here! Are you a boy or a girl?

Me: (In disbelief, I’m clearly a white girl, this lady is crazy.) I don’t know.

Lady: You’re very Hispanic looking! You must be in the back the whole time!

Me: I’m usually in the shadows… (Trying not to kill her.)

Lady: ( She sits down after I put her order in.)

Me: (I’m still fuming and offended as other kids come up to the register. My boyfriend comes back from break.) Can you take these while I go punch something?

My boyfriend: Yeah, I guess.

(I had to take a breather in the bathroom. I was so pissed. I told my boyfriend what happened and he had very little reaction. Maybe I didn’t make it clear how crazy she was…)