(I work on the homeless team for the local council dealing with temporary accommodation. These are very basic properties that we place homeless families in if they meet certain criteria, and I am then responsible for keeping an eye on them and helping them find permanent accommodation. This customer is placed in one of our units, and then causes us nothing but trouble for over six months, including threatening to stab one of my colleagues and to shoot me. As a result, I can only visit if the police come with me. I have to go and change the locks at the property, after a report that the door is wide open and no one is there. Four days later, after a report that the customer has now broken a window to get into the property, I receive a phone call…)

Client: “WHERE ARE MY KEYS?!”

Me: “They are at the area office. I did put a note through the door and on the window to tell you.”

Client: “That’s too far!” *It’s literally a five minute walk, if that.* “Can’t you deliver them?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can only visit if the police come with me, so you will need to go to the office.”

Client: “Yeah, why do you always have to bring them with you? I don’t like police.”

Me: “I have to bring them with me because you threatened to shoot me when I visited before.”

Client: “Yeah, I know, I know I did, but I threatened to shoot the police, too!”

(I struggled to see the logic to that one! He then went on to complain I hadn’t fixed his broken window… the one he had broken and was using as a front door…)

(I am watching some students in the library while it is raining at break. Unbeknownst to a group of them, I’m aware of an impending not-so-subtle prank, and I can tell that one student has come to me to distract me from what the other two are doing beside me… but he doesn’t have a good ploy prepared…)

Student: “Miss [My Name], I need you come with me to look out of the window!”

Me: “Why?”

Student: “There’s… there’s like… a river of lava… just… sort of… outside…”

(I am sitting in the waiting room of my local GP, where a mother and her son have arrived for their appointment.)

Receptionist: “Miss [Name], I think [Son] needs the toilet.”

Mother: “No, he does that when he’s getting ready. That’s his potty dance.”

Receptionist: “Sorry, but I think he’s trying to tell you he really needs to go.”

Mother: “I’m his mother. I know my son better than anyone. He’ll be ready in a couple of minutes. I’ll take him after his dance.”

(The receptionist protested again, and the mother threatened to complain about her. The boy stopped dancing around a few minutes later, and it looked like he was in a lot of pain. Just as his mother was about to take him to the toilet, the doctor called them in and she decided to force her son to wait again. He could barely move and we were all a bit worried. I was called in to see my doctor next. By the time I left, there were police officers in the building, and I could hear hysterical screaming coming from one of the rooms. As I walked by, I heard one of the receptionists saying, “Imagine using a paperclip to keep it shut.”)

(One of our field workers is on holiday for a week, and he’s diverted his calls to the office – something I discover at 8:02 on Monday morning when I receive three consecutive calls for him within five minutes about the same matter. It gets worse as the week progresses, but this little kicker occurs that made my head bang against the desk…)

Me: “Good morning, [Company]”

Caller: “Oh, I was trying to get a hold of [Field Worker]. I must have dialed the office by mistake.”

Me: “[Field Worker] is actually on leave this week. Can I—”

Caller: *click*

(The phone rings two seconds later, and it’s the same number.)

Me: “Good morning, [Company]”

Caller: “It’s doing it again!”

Me: *speaking quickly* “[Field Worker] is on leave this week and has diverted his phone to the office.” *pauses to take a breath*

Caller: *click*

(The phone rings two seconds later… He calls back another three times before giving up. I was never able to make him understand, or give him someone else’s number who was actually working that week.)

(I have been working long days, as it’s the busiest time at work. I get home 14 hours after I left that morning, and decide to treat myself to an internationally known pizza chain that lets you track the order. I order online and watch the tracker tell me that the order is on its way. Then it says delivered, but I have no pizza. I ring the branch.)

Me: “Hi, I ordered online about an hour ago, and the order tracker says it’s been delivered, but it hasn’t arrived. “

Employee: “What’s the order number?”

Me: *gives order number*

Employee: “Okay, hold on.”

(I wait. And wait. And wait some more. When I’m about to hang up and retry he comes back on the phone.)

Employee: “Okay, so it looks like we haven’t even made it yet.”

Me: “What?!”

Employee: “Yeah, sorry, I looked everywhere for your order, and it was on the floor among the old receipts.”

Me: “…right, it’s been over an hour now, I’ve already paid for this online. I just want what I ordered.”

Employee: “Well, I’ll put the order in now, but we’re really busy, so you’ll be looking at an hour, hour and a half wait, okay? We have orders to make before this one.”

Me: “No, that is not okay. I just paid nearly £22 for a pizza that you’re saying will now be another hour and a half wait? Even though I ordered this an HOUR before the ones you’re cooking now? You won’t prioritise this since you admit it’s your fault?”

Employee: “Nope, you’ll have to wait.”

Me: “You think waiting two and a half hours for a pizza is acceptable?”

Employee: “Well, what do you wanna do? Come pick it up if you’re that bothered!”

Me: “I don’t have a car, and you’re on the other side of town, plus I have ALREADY PAID a delivery fee over an hour ago when I ordered this pizza!”

(I demanded a refund and made myself a sandwich. I have never ordered anything from there since, and never will again.)