I was working at a restaurant for six months on probation. Lawfully speaking, if a restaurant wants a person to continue working, they are obliged to provide a full contract to the employee; otherwise, they are breaking labor law. However, most companies get around this by “goading” an employee into quitting if they don’t want them by slashing hours or scrutinizing their work meticulously. It’s a scumbag tactic and this restaurant is no exception.

It’s a late Saturday afternoon and I am due to finish at 6:00 pm. Our supervisor, who is the biggest brown nose you will ever meet, has talked non-stop about his friends who are out on the town this night, directly implying that he wants to go out with them even though he is closing. He knows that I am busy on Saturday evenings with my own podcast, so he hasn’t asked me if I would be interested in closing. At 5:50 pm, the following message appears on our Facebook group.

Restaurant Manager: “[Supervisor], you can leave at 6:00. [My Name] will close tonight.”

For the record, I would have happily considered closing, if I were asked. But now I feel that I am being forced to so the supervisor can have a good night, so I decide to stand up for myself.

Me: “No, I cannot close tonight. I’m busy.”

Restaurant Manager: “[Supervisor] is not feeling so good, [My Name], and nobody else knows how to close. You haven’t had many hours recently, either, so you can close tonight and make up for them.”

Me: “And that’s my problem, because? You decided to cut my hours this month, and even if I closed tonight — which I am not doing — I would be looking at only two hours, tops, if we’re lucky. It would not make any difference to the hours I normally did before. Sorry, [Restaurant Manager], but I am not closing.”

Restaurant Manager: “What are you doing tonight, then, [My Name]? Going out?”

Me: “Not that it is relevant, but I actually have a podcast lined up.”

Restaurant Manager: “Nobody cares about your stupid videos, [My Name].”

Now I’m DEFINITELY not doing it.

Me: “Do you honestly believe that saying stuff like that is supposed to encourage my decision? It has, just not in the way you want. I am leaving in five minutes, as my shift ends at 6:00 pm.”

Restaurant Manager: “[My Name], if you leave at 6:00 pm despite being told to stay, you will not get your tips for this week.”

Me: “Hmm, yeah, I really think that’s not happening. I’ll tell you what. Let me offer you a different choice. How about I still leave at 6:00 pm, I still get my tips, and you get the benefit of my silence when I do not report this conversation to my union. How does that sound?”

I had applied and joined a union when I started because of a previous issue that happened exactly like this. The restaurant manager had no choice but to keep the supervisor on that night, which he hated me for, but honestly, I couldn’t have cared less. I left that job the next week and entered a new job that I love.

Me: “Hello, and thank you for calling [Library], how can I help you?”

Patron: “I just tried to call the local government switchboard and no one was picking up; they said they were closed. What’s happening?”

Me: “Well, we’re a part of the local government, but I really have no control over their switchboard. I know they’re closed for lunch between noon and one o’clock, so maybe try to call back after that?”

Patron: “No, I called the number and the voice said that they were closed. I don’t know what’s happening!”

Me: “All right, if you hold for a moment, I’ll try to call the switchboard and see if I can figure out what’s going on.”

I put her on hold and call the switchboard. Of course, I get sent directly to voicemail.

Voicemail: “Welcome to [Local Government]. The switchboard is closed for lunch between noon and one o’clock. Please call back later.”

I hang up and get back to my patron.

Me: “Hello, ma’am? I just tried to call the switchboard and they are closed for lunch right now, just like they said in the voice message. Try to call back after one o’clock and they’ll help you.”

Patron: “And how was I supposed to know that? You really should do something about it!”

She hung up and I was left wondering exactly how I was supposed to stop the lone telephone operator at the switchboard from going to lunch.

Related:
Voicemail Fail, Part 4
Voicemail Fail, Part 3
Voicemail Fail, Part 2
Voicemail Fail

Me: “Welcome to [Pest Control Company]. How can I help?”

Customer: “Hello, I have mites.”

Me: “All right, you have called the line for home insurance policies, and they don’t normally cover mites. I can try to transfer you to—”

Customer: “No, you have to help me. It’s really bad. They are all over my scrotum.”

I am young and innocent at this point and not really believing what I’m hearing.

Me: “Pardon me, what did you say?”

Customer: “They’re all over my scrotum! You won’t believe how much it’s itching! I need help right now!”

Me: “Sorry, are you certain we’re talking about mites? It might be bedbugs; the usual symptoms for that are skin irritation. I just assign work orders, but I can transfer you to a professional who can help you narrow down what kind of pest you might be dealing with.”

Customer: “No, I know it’s mites because they’re just on my scrotum. It itches so bad. Give me your email address and I’ll send you a picture!”

Me: “Please don’t. I’ll just transfer you directly to a [Company] professional.”

Many apologies to the poor person at the pest control company who had to take that call, but we were not allowed to hang up on customers and I was absolutely not paid enough to deal with that kind of thing.

I work for a telephone service that occasionally takes overflow calls from a pest control company. There were wasps everywhere and our client is slammed with calls, so we have to take quite a lot of them. In fact, we have to take so many of them that we have to hire new temp staff and every corner of the office where there is space for a desk and a phone has a desk and a phone.

One of our new temp staffers was our boss’s eighteen-year-old nephew. He was great on the phone, completely unflappable, and very good with the customers. However, he had only had a few hours’ worth of training on the telephone system and wasn’t 100% comfortable with the button-pushing.

The policy when we got abusive customers on the line and couldn’t handle them on our own was to transfer them to our boss, and if he couldn’t handle them, he’d transfer them to the client and let them deal with them.

It was late in the day and we were all completely exhausted from taking non-stop calls. The boss’s nephew got a call from an irate customer who was screaming so loud that I could hear it from across the room.

The poor nephew asked the boss for help, and the boss told him to transfer the customer to his phone.

The nephew tried to do exactly that, but unfortunately pressed the wrong button and the abusive customer was transferred… directly to our fax machine.

Please bear in mind that we were all extremely exhausted at this point and just waiting for the moment when we would be allowed to close the switchboard, but we all had to excuse ourselves, mute our calls, and break down into hysterical laughter.

We never heard anything more about it from our client, but from that day on, whenever someone had an abusive customer, we just told them to “transfer them to the fax.”

This is back when satellite dishes are the norm to get foreign TV instead of cable.

Me: “Welcome to [Satellite Company]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Hi, I’m just calling to let you know that your satellite must’ve moved. Can you fix that as soon as possible, please?”

Me: “Um… What makes you think the satellite moved?”

Customer: “My picture’s all grainy and I lost a few channels. Can you just bump it back into place or something?”

Me: “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. You will need to adjust your satellite dish to get the signal back. I can give you instructions for how to do it yourself, or we can send a technician within twenty-four hours.”

Customer: “No, no, there’s nothing wrong with my dish; it’s been in the same place for seven months.”

I know that there’s been bad weather in her part of the country.

Me: “I’m sorry, but is it windy where you are right now?”

Customer: “Yes, it’s a bit of a storm, actually. Now, are you going to move the satellite back or do I have to take this to your manager?”

Me: “Okay, so, the satellite is in space. It didn’t move. If you wait until the storm is over and then adjust your dish, the picture will come back.”

Customer: “You’ve been very unhelpful. Get your manager to call me back; I want to make a complaint.” *Click*

This was in the early millennium so, unfortunately, I wasn’t able to make the satellite TV provider move their satellite overnight.

Related:
TV On Demanding