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Some Questions Should Never Be Asked, Part 3

, , , | Right | April 23, 2009

(I work for forensics and often a lot of phone calls about DNA results and what they mean.)

Me: “Good morning, DNA Management Section, [My Name] speaking.”

Customer: “Hi, I got this DNA notification thing. I don’t know what it means.”

Me: “Those are the results for the buccal swab you had done. It’s just for your records to show that you had a buccal swab taken and your DNA was analysed from it.”

Customer: “What do all these letters and numbers mean?”

Me: “That is the sequence for your DNA. The scientists at forensics will use those numbers to match your DNA profile to other samples on the DNA database.”

Customer: “But what do they mean?”

Me: “Unfortunately, I am not qualified to explain this to you. I can however forward your call to Forensics SA, and they will be able to answer your query. All I can say is that the first part is your sex. XX means female and XY means male.”

Customer: “It says XY… so that means I’m male, right?”

A Few Carrots Short Of A Bunch

, , , , , | Right | April 23, 2009

(I work for a business software company. We take data from a database, and turn it into reports.)

Client: *on the phone* “My reports look wrong.”

Me: “All right, let’s take a look.”

(I see the problem, and we’re able to trace the problem back to the database — something outside of my company’s control.)

Me: “It looks like you have some bad data in your database; once the data in there is right, you should have no problems with your reports.”

Client: “That’s ridiculous. I don’t care what the database has; it’s my report that’s wrong.”

Me: “Actually, we see the exact same problem in your database as we do in the report.”

Client: “It’s still your fault.”

(This goes on for twenty minutes. I finally decide to make it simpler.)

Me: “If you make a hamburger with rotten meat, do you blame the bun company when you get sick?”

Client: “I’m a vegetarian, I wouldn’t know.”

Me: “Okay, fine, if your veggie patty was rotten, would you blame the bun company?”

Client: “Veggie patties never go rotten!”

Me: “I don’t think you understand my analogy.”

Client: “I don’t think YOU understand vegetarians!”

Me: “Ma’am, I work tech support. It’s not my job to understand vegetarians.”

Client: “WELL, IT’S NOT MY JOB EITHER, BUT I DO!”

Me: “That’s because you are one.”

Client: “NO, I’M NOT!”

Me: “You told me you were a vegetarian, thirty seconds ago.”

Client: “I LIED!”

Me: “…why?”

Client: “BECAUSE YOU’RE WRONG!”

Me: “No, I’m not.”

Client: “WROOONG! WRONG, WRONG, WRONG! WROOONG!”

(They kept on saying ‘wrong’ for a good 45 seconds, despite me trying to interject, so I hung up. No one in the company has heard from them since.)


This story is part of our Vegetarian roundup!

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It’s A Miracle She’s Still On The Ground…

, , | Right | April 22, 2009

(A very angry customer storms up to the counter at the party shop I was working at.)

Customer: “These balloons are no good! I spent all afternoon blowing them up, and none of them will float!”

Me: “What did you fill them with?”

Customer: “What do you mean? I just blew them up, and none of them will float.”

Me: “Did you fill them with air or helium?”

Customer: “Air.”

Me: “They won’t float unless you use a helium tank.”

Customer: “NO! Look, it says on the packet, ‘Helium Balloons’.”

Me: “…”

Maybe It Got Chuck Norris’d

, , , , | Right | April 22, 2009

(A customer approaches the repair counter with a paper shopping bag, and I can hear stuff rattling around inside.)

Customer: “I bought this computer here, and it’s broken. I want to return it.”

(She dumps out the bag, and inside is a laptop that is broken completely in half.)

Customer: “It was like this when I opened the box.”

Me: “Okay… well, do you have the receipt and the original packaging?”

Customer: *hands me a receipt*

Me: “Ma’am, this receipt is from three months ago.”

Customer: “I know. I bought it three months ago but I just opened it today.”

Me: “Do you have the original packaging?”

Customer: “No, I threw it away.”

Me: “So, let me get this straight. You opened the box, three months after buying the computer, and the laptop was broken in half, so you threw out the box?”

Customer: “Yeah, I didn’t think I needed it.”

Me: “I really don’t think you can return this.”

Customer: “All right, but you can fix it. It’s still got a manufacturer warranty.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but manufacturer warranties don’t cover accidental damage, just defects.”

Customer: “But it’s not accidental damage! It was like this when I bought it!”

Me: “I find that really hard to believe, and so would anyone else. Nobody in their right mind would believe that it came out of the box like this.”

Customer: “But why would I lie about that?”

Me: “To get a free repair? I’m sorry, I just can’t do it. Your warranty does not cover accidental damage.”

Customer: *thinks for a moment* “But what if it wasn’t an accident?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “What if it wasn’t an accident? I did it on purpose. That’s not accidental damage.”

Me: “…”

Customer: “Hmmmmmmm?”

Me: “Have a good day, ma’am.”


This story is part of the Customers-Are-Their-Own-Worst-Enemy roundup!

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Another Darwin Awards Candidate

, , , , , | Right | April 22, 2009

(I’m working the night shift when suddenly a guy dressed in black with a mask over his head comes in. He pulls out a gun and comes heading my way. Without even thinking, I incapacitate him with a basic self-defense skill.)

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

Me: “Sir, you were about to hold me up!”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “You came into the store with a mask over your head and gun in your hand.”

(At this point, I notice that the gun is a controller for a game. I let him go.)

Me: “I’m very sorry about what just happened, sir. So, you wanted that fixed, right?”

Customer: “It’s… no big deal. Can you fix it anyway?”

Me: “Not a problem, sir.”

(After checking the wiring and whatnot inside the gun, I find some faulty chipwork and fix it.)

Me: “Here you go, sir.”

Customer: “Thanks.” *pays up*

Me: “Just one thing, though.”

Customer: “Ah, yeah?”

Me: “What’s with the mask?”

Customer: “Sometimes, I like to pretend!” *giggles and walks out*

(I never worked the night shift again.)