Ensuring The Next Generation Is Just As Entitled

, , , , , , | Right | January 24, 2018

(I work at an apartment complex and have had this job for a little less than a year. A great deal of my job consists of being b****ed at by entitled parents, residents, or both. I have received a phone call from a mom who is angry because her son cannot move in until the middle of the month. All new students cannot move in until this date, but are required to pay for the full month because their leases are in a lump sum that is divided into equal payments.)

Me: “Ma’am, we cannot let your son move in early because we would still be preparing his room on that day.”

Mom: “No! This is not okay! No one told my son that! We should have the first month prorated because he can’t move in.”

(The lease he signed and the paperwork he initialed reiterate these points before a customer is done. I’m also pretty confident my student staff members reminded the customer of this.)

Me: “Ma’am, we can’t accommodate that. We don’t prorate because his rate would be more expensive each month after if we did that. His lease acts similar to a loan. We loan him the space, and we take payment in 12 equal instalments.”

Mom: “No! That doesn’t make any sense. I want to speak to a manager!”

Me: “I am a manager.”

Mom: “Then not you. Where’s your boss?”

(My boss recently stepped out for lunch.)

Me: “I’m the manager here right now, and I can assure you that you will get the same response from my boss.”

Mom: “I want the corporate number! What is that?!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. Let me get that for you.”

(I give her the number.)

Mom: “What is your name? I want that, too!”

(I give her my name.)

Me: “Do you need help with anything else?”

Mom: “No!”

Me: “Okay, well, if you have any other questions, let us know. Have a good—”

Mom: “No! No! No!”

(She hung up on me. Gotta love parents and their entitled children.)

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Unfiltered Story #104101

, , | Unfiltered | January 22, 2018

(It is the day of my grandmother’s funeral. The service has just ended, and the whole family is going to get lunch at a buffet in town. My parents, my younger brother, and I happen to arrive at the restaurant first, still dressed all in black and still a little bit somber. We walk inside and there are two people standing at the host stand, a young man and an older woman. The young man looks at us, smiles, and says in a cheery tone:)

Young Man: “Why the long faces? Did someone die or something?”

(We all just stared blankly at him for a moment.)

Dad: “…yes. We just came from the funeral.”

(The poor guy turned white as a sheet, sputtered out a quick apology, and ran into the kitchen. The woman face-palmed, showed us to a table, and apologized for him. Meanwhile, I was trying not to laugh at the whole situation. Whoever he was, he made a very sad day just a little bit more bearable through schadenfreude.)

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Unfiltered Story #103979

, , , | Unfiltered | January 20, 2018

(I’m the manager at a fairly popular frozen yogurt shop. We have a regular customer who comes in all the time who always pays in a fistful of change. This time is no different, she gets her yogurt and pays in a handful of nickels and dimes, literally. She then leaves in a rush. Later that night my coworker tells me that the customer from earlier has come back, claiming that someone has stolen a large amount of cash from her car while at our store. Since I was up at the front the entire time she was there, and she had parked her car right in front of our giant glass wall where I could see it, I knew this wasn’t true. I walk out of the back and see that the customer is waiting for me.)

Customer: “I demand that you roll back the tapes so I can see who took money out of my car!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we can’t review our security tapes here at the store, that’s done at our headquarters downtown. You can call the police and file a report if you’d like.”

Customer: “Just call your boss! I know her! My daughter used to work here!”

(After several minutes of this, I finally call my boss and she tells me that this woman has done this several times before, but that she’ll talk to her anyway. I hand the customer my cell phone and she then speed walks outside with it and starts taking pictures of her car and texting them to my boss, while on the phone with her. After a few minutes of what seems like arguing, she hangs up and brings me my phone back.)

Customer: “I’ll be back later tonight to see the tapes!”

(The customer then storms out. My coworker and I just start laughing. We haven’t seen her since.)

The Pump Is On But Nobody’s Home

, , , | Right | January 17, 2018

(I’ve already had a particularly bad morning. Due to nightmares, I didn’t get much sleep. The coworker that gives me my keys to the fuel station is very late, and once I finally open up shop I’m swamped with customers for two hours because the pay-at-the-pump system is malfunctioning. Prepay works just fine. This customer interaction happens while tech support is on the phone, fixing the problem.)

Me: “Hello. What can I do for you?”

Customer: “Hey, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m trying to use my card outside and it’s not working. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Me: “Yeah, I think pay-at-the-pump is messing up. I’m already on the phone with tech support trying to fix it.”

Customer: “So, then, it’s not working?”

Me: “Outside, it’s not, but you can pay in here and it’ll work fine. I just need an amount to set the prepay.”

Customer: “So… it’s not working?”

(I try not to repeat myself verbatim, out of fear of sounding snarky towards her.)

Me: “Pay-at-the-pump is not, no, but if you pay in here, it’ll work just fine.”

Customer: “Okay, it’s not; I’ll just go somewhere else.”

(As she left, the customer behind her, who heard everything, paid by card to prepay his own pump, and the transaction went through with no issue.)

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Unfiltered Story #103833

, , | Unfiltered | January 17, 2018

(I work in a psychiatric office and sometimes patients try to be crafty to get the doctor to write an unnecessary prescriptions. This particular patient is always trying to get more medication each time they have come from an appointment.)

Me: “Good morning, [Dr.’s Office]; how may I help you?”

Patient: “Yes, I was there two days ago and all my paper work had gotten all wet including my prescription. It has disintegrated. Can you ask the doctor to write me a new one?”

(The telephone volume is very loud so anyone within a few feet can hear the conversation clearly.)

Coworker: *whispers* “[Patient’s Name] is practically saying it has evaporated into thin air.”