Customer: “I want a book about the maintenance of tractors.” 

Me: “Okay, I can search the database for—”

Customer: “—and it has to be a picture book.”

Me: “Okay, I’m not sure that—”

Customer: “—for kids.”

Me: “Well, I—”

Customer: “—in Welsh.”

I did not find that book.

This is just one of many, MANY stories I can share about a manager I once worked under, who I will call “Trevor”. I worked as an engineer in a broadcast facility. We would often need to do upgrades to one important system or another, and some of these, such as main power, were handled by third-party specialist contractors. They provided a combined Risk Assessment – Method Statement (RAMS) document that any relevant stakeholder in the company (basically any manager whose team could be affected) had to read and give the thumbs up to before the job could proceed.

One such job was scheduled for a Friday night, and muggins here was the late shift that day. The first I heard about it was when the manager of the control room stopped by to ask if I was up to speed with the event, even though I was on a completely different team. I had to matter-of-factly tell him that my own manager hadn’t even mentioned this job to me, let alone asked if I was okay with it.

Normally, I would finish a Friday late shift at 10:00 pm, but this maintenance job wouldn’t even start until 11:00 pm, and it would go on until at least three or four in the morning. So, not only would I lose what was left of my Friday evening, but I would be losing my Saturday morning, as well. Great when you’ve got a young family at home!

I went up to my manager’s desk in the middle of the open-plan office — two floors above the engineering team he was supposed to be running — and asked him about this upcoming overnight work. How come he hadn’t asked me about it? Didn’t he think that he should have at least let me know?

Well, Trevor didn’t like being spoken to like this by a mere mortal such as me, and certainly not in earshot of all the other managers he liked to try and impress. I got dragged into an empty meeting room where he tried to rant at me some more. The only argument he seemed to have, which he repeated over and over again, was that at some point there had been an email, and in that email was an attachment containing the Risk Assessment, and at the bottom of the last page of this Risk Assessment under the heading “Resources” was my name. So, basically, his logic was that I needed to read every line in every document in every email that landed in our shared inbox, just in case my name was in there somewhere. And if my name was there, I had to assume that my work pattern had automatically changed, and he didn’t need to do anything more because it was all my responsibility — so there.

The fact that this was utterly bonkers, the complete opposite of good management, not to mention just plain inconsiderate didn’t seem to occur to him, but at this point in my time working under him, I was not surprised. It also completely contradicted a previous edict he had once issued after we’d adjusted our shift pattern at the last minute to deal with a problem, only to be raked over the coals for not consulting him first!

The one other thing I got out of this incident was that during our argument, I accused him of not dealing with my upcoming leave request, something he was well known for not doing. I wanted a week off for my fortieth birthday and had put this into the system nine months earlier. “I was just dealing with that!” he barked at me, which basically meant that he had utterly forgotten about it until I mentioned it. This was proven the next day, when we found out that he had rung up a colleague at our other site, practically pleading with him to cover my leave later that month.

An old lady and her adult son are checking out. It is the day after a major named storm passed through Scotland and caused some damage.

Adult Son: “I was here yesterday to get some plants for my garden, and then you told me it was closed!”

Me: “Yes, we had to close the garden centre yesterday because of the storm, and then we had to close early in case it put staff in danger.”

Adult Son: “But I wanted to do my planting yesterday. You ruined my weekend plans!”

Me: “You wanted to plant in your garden yesterday.”

Adult Son: “Yes!”

Me: “During the storm?”

Adult Son: “Yes!”

Before I can try to come up with a diplomatic response, the mother finally speaks up.

Mother: “Jesus save me, if I had known this is how you would have turned out, I would have swallowed you.”

To this day, I still do not know how I finished that transaction without laughing my a**e off.

When some people reach a certain age, they lose their filter and don’t give a crap who it bothers, just like those that can be found in these 10 Stories About Awesome Older Customers Who Act As Young As They Feel!

I am working at a tourist information centre in a touristy part of central London. A family approaches me. They speak with a US American accent; I mention this only to point out that there is no language barrier at all during this interaction.

Tourist: “I think some of the signs around here are wrong!”

Me: “What is the issue you’re having, sir?”

Tourist: “This road sign here says ‘London Bridge’, but it’s the wrong bridge! London Bridge is over thataway!”

The tourist points to the actual London Bridge, which is an arguably ugly concrete construction from 1973, and then over in the direction of Tower Bridge, which is the “famous bridge” with the ornate towers and iconic design. A lot of tourists seem to think that this is London Bridge, though. Thanks, Fergie.

I explain this common mix-up to the tourist.

Tourist: “Wait. So, that’s not London Bridge?”

Me: “That’s right; that’s Tower Bridge.”

Tourist: “But we wanted to see London Bridge!”

Me: “Well, congratulations: you’re next to it.”

Tourist: “But… where is it?”

Me: “It’s… right there.”

I point again to the actual London Bridge. I admit that it’s a little underwhelming compared to Tower Bridge, but it’s still very much visible!

Tourist: “Where?”

Me: “That bridge, right… there.”

Tourist: “I still don’t see it.”

Me: “Do you see the thousands of people crossing the river at this very moment?”

Tourist: “Yes.”

Me: “That’s it. That’s London Bridge.”

The tourist looks at the bridge, then at me, then at the bridge, and then at me.

Tourist: “But I can’t see London Bridge.”

Suddenly, the tourist’s wife whispers something to him.

Tourist: *To me* “Oh, is that because London Bridge has fallen down?”

Me: “…yes. That is why.”

Tourist: “Figures we’d miss it!”

It’s easy for tourists to get turned around in a new place, but please listen to the locals when they’re trying to help you! To be fair, these 13 More Cringe-Worthy Stories About Tourists Who Have Absolutely No Clue don’t fair much better!

I was working for a company that provided integrated dispensing and till systems for pubs in the UK. Often, the main unit was based in the cellar where the beer barrels are kept (along with the pump lines).

One morning, a customer called.

Customer: “I can’t get my tills working!”

I ran through a couple of options with them.

Me: “You’re going to need to reboot your computer.”

Customer: “I can’t. The basement is flooded.”

They seemed surprised when I suggested this might stop the tills from working.