Passenger: *putting his bags into the X-ray machine* “Oh, I have pies in these…”
Me: “Is something wrong, sir?”
Passenger: “It’s just, won’t they get spoilt?”
Colleague: *sitting at the X-ray monitor* “Well, you don’t get spoilt when you receive an X-ray, do you?”
(I am changing a reservation for a customer over the phone. She is not happy that she will have an extra charge because she waited to make the change. She knows the fee policy (I confirmed it) but is upset there is a charge. She waited until the very last moment to make the change when she had several weeks in advance to do it for free. She wants to impress me that she is a trainer in customer service skills and that she is an executive. That charge is $150 and it will give her 100,000 frequent flier miles if she keeps the ticket.)
Customer: *screaming* “I am an executive! You make no money at all! I own my company and I train people in giving good customer service. You are horrible at customer service! You are stupid and useless! You are worthless! Do you hear me? Worthless! You are not worth the air you breathe!”
Me: *feeling my face get red but keeping my composure; about to be beyond nice and make an accommodation for her* “Ma’am, if you like—”
Customer: “You don’t listen! You are stupid! I train people in customer service and you are horrible at it. What is your name?”
Me: “Sheldon.”
Customer: “Your name isn’t Sheldon! Your name is Shady. You’re shady. You’re stupid and shady. The airline is shady.”
Me: *trying not to laugh* “Ma’am, I would like to assist you if you will let me speak.”
Customer: “You are shady. Say it with me? Admit it! The airline is shady. Shady, shady, shady. Say it. Say it!”
Me: Ma’am, I’ve very sorry to have upset you but I will not call the airline shady.
Customer: “Give me your manager’s name and get him on the phone. You are stupid.”
Me: “Absolutely. I will get you to my manager right away.”
(My manager comes on phone… and customer starts screaming.)
Manager: “Mrs [Customer], Sheldon was correct in what he said. If you continue to disparage Sheldon I will terminate this call.”
Customer: “YOU’RE A D***!”
Manager: *hangs up*
(All I could think of is, “Man, I’m glad I do not work for him.” And can you imagine his customer service training classes?)
(I am flying from Phoenix to Houston. I tend to get upgrades, partly because I am a frequent flyer. I am called up to the podium as my upgrade had been cleared for the flight, and given my new boarding pass. I know the gate staff quite well, and love to talk with them. An impatient passenger approaches.)
Impatient Passenger: “I need to get on this flight, and you will upgrade me.”
Gate Agent: “May I see your boarding pass?”
Impatient Passenger: “You haven’t printed it yet.”
Gate Agent: “In order to clear security, you need it. Do you have that paper you went through the checkpoint with?”
Impatient Passenger: “I threw it out. Look my name up. You’ve got a computer.”
Gate Agent: “One second, please.”
(I step back, watching the story unfold further:)
Gate Agent: “Okay, it looks like you’ve got a seat; 27E in economy. It’s the last seat on the flight I’m afraid.”
Impatient Passenger: “Listen, a**-hole. I’m a Gold OnePass member. I demand you give me my upgrade right now. I know [Airline Owner], we have lunch together frequently, and I will call him and have you fired for not treating me right. Now god-d*** it, give me my f****** upgrade to first class.”
(I step in.)
Me: “Sir, first class isn’t just a cabin on a plane or an upgraded seat. It’s a state of mind and a level of courtesy. If you don’t like the service by the good people of [Airline], please go fly [Airline that has a recent reputation of violently removing passengers from their planes]. I’m quite sure they’d give you the level of service you surely deserve.”
(I am waiting to make vacation arrangements. The customer in front of me is being helped.)
Customer: “I’d like to take a vacation on [dates].”
Agent: “Certainly, sir! Where would you like to go on your vacation?”
Customer: “I’m going to Man-ass.”
Agent: “Where?”
Customer: “MAN-ASS!”
Agent: “I don’t know of any city by that name, sir.”
Customer: “I went there last year! Man-ass! It’s down in Bolivia!”
Agent: “Did you mean Manaus, Brazil?”
(She tilts her computer screen so he can see.)
Customer: “Yes! Man-ass! Can you get me there?”
Agent: “Certainly, sir.” *she types a few things into her computer, then prints a sheet of paper* “One trip to Manaus on [dates]; the price is [price].”
(The man cheerfully pays. As he leaves, he pumps his fist in the air.)
Customer: “Yes! I’m going to have a great time in Man-ass!”
(One of my best friends growing up had never been on a plane or been out of the country. He grew up on a large Midwestern farm, and was always too busy helping his family to travel more than a few hours away. Of course there’s nothing wrong with that, but I knew he wished he could visit new places one day. After college I moved away to another state, but we still talked often on the phone and online. He called earlier this year to tell me he was going out of the country for the first time; his family had been invited to a destination wedding in the Caribbean. He was really excited, and had already submitted his application for his first ever passport. I told him to have fun and take plenty of pictures. The date of the wedding comes and goes, and about a week later I get another call.)
Friend: “Hey, [My Name]. It’s [Friend].”
Me: “Hey! How was the wedding? Did you have a great time?”
Friend: “Yeah, well, the wedding was fun, and it was cool seeing the beaches. But you won’t believe what happened on the way back.”
Me: “Oh, no… Did something happen with your flight?”
Friend: “Not exactly. I found out when we were trying to reenter the US that my brand-new passport number is exactly one digit different from the passport of a guy who is wanted in more than one country.”
Me: “What?!”
Friend: “Yeah. I got to spend six hours in TSA holding while they figured out if I was this guy or not.”
Me: “Did you kind of look like this guy, too, or something? Is that why it took so long?”
Friend: “Not even a little.”
(For some additional perspective, my friend is a 25-year-old, blond-haired, blue-eyed farmer, and he was eventually told that the wanted man with the similar passport number was in his 40s, with dark hair and brown eyes, and was wanted in some kind of “white collar” criminal case.)
Me: “I’m so sorry that happened! Can you get a new passport number?”
Friend: “I haven’t checked yet, but I don’t think I’m going to be going anywhere else for a while.”
(I thought about it later. What are the odds that this could happen to someone on their first trip to another country, with a brand new passport? I don’t know yet if he’s allowed to apply for a new passport number, but I would think this would be a case where the Department of State could make an exception.)
