Unfiltered Story #91993

, | Unfiltered | August 30, 2017

My boyfriend and I returned from an out of town funeral to find that our internet wasn’t working. Since he’s way better with customer service representatives than I am, he had the job of calling to try and get it sorted out. Over the course of a week, they had him run through the over the phone diagnostics 3 separate times and failed to show up to 2 different appointments to come look at it after those diagnostics didn’t work. Finally, it’s my turn to call.

Now, I am in the middle of the busiest time of year at work, working 12 hour days and weekends, not to mention the fact that we were coming off of a rough weekend traveling for a funeral. I call and explain the situation to the customer service representative and tell her that I just want to schedule another appointment. She pulls up our account and says that she sees that there was one no-show service appointment but the other one isn’t showing up at all. I assure her that the last representative that my boyfriend spoke to had confirmed that the appointment was in their system, and that their tech guy did not show up.

Already having had a rough day, I’m trying to remain polite while going through all this, but she doesn’t seem to be listening, and the next thing she says is that I’ll need to run through the over the phone diagnostics with her. I tell her again that we have been dealing with this for several days now, we’ve already run through the diagnostics multiple times, and it’s been established that we do, in fact, need someone to come out and look at it in person. This does not deter her at all; for the next 5 or so minutes we go back and forth, her insisting on the diagnostics, me explaining that we already know that we are past that point, and it should reflect that in our account, and that I just want to make a service appointment.

I am exhausted, drained physically and emotionally, and eventually I reach a breaking point while she’s trying to get me to run the diagnostics:

Customer service representative: Okay ma’am but if you’ll just run through these diagnostics first so that we can rule out any of these problems-

Me: Please, I’m begging you, we have already done them, we know we need someone to come out, I just want to schedule another appointment.

Customer service rep: I understand. So let’s first run through these-

Me: *bursts into tears, attempting to talk while obviously crying* You know what, never mind, I’ll try calling later. *hangs up*

A minute later my phone rings:

Same customer service rep: Hello, [My Name]? This is [Her Name] with [Company] and I believe we were just speaking on the phone?

Me: *somewhat recovered from crying* Yes, hi, sorry about hanging up, I just wanted to call another time.

Customer service rep: Right. Well I just wanted to make sure that you were okay?

Me: Yeah, I’m fine, thank you for asking. I just got a little upset, I’ll try calling a different time when I’m not as stressed.

Customer service rep: I understand, ma’am. But let’s just get that appointment scheduled for you while you’re here…

My boyfriend teased me for months about crying on the phone with a customer service rep, but we got our internet fixed! I still make him call most of the time, though.

Unfiltered Story #91989

, , , | Unfiltered | August 30, 2017

(I’m a customer in this story, though I am currently a retail associate at a department store and have been there for many years. It is nearly 2:30in the morning, and I am with a group of my friends at [Well Known Diner], and we have our checks in hand and are in the process of cashing out individually. A customer (who is clearly quite stoned) walks up, cuts right through the middle of us, and interrupts the cashier who was about to take my check and cash me out.)

Stoned Customer: Can I get a [very cheap meal platter] only with [substitution] instead?

Cashier #1: Hang on. *he calls to one of his coworkers to come over and take the guy’s order, as he is in the cash out process and can’t easily ring someone else up*

Cashier #2: What can I get you? *the customer repeats his request* Oh, actually we don’t make substitutions for any of our [low-priced meals].

Stoned Customer: *he takes a moment to respond, and when he does his speech is slow and just short of slurred; he is also blocking the card reader machine I need to get to, and doesn’t seem to notice my attempts to get to it* I’ve never had a problem with you people doing this before.

Cashier #1: *picks up a menu* He’s right, actually. See, it says right here that ‘no substitutions are allowed’.

Cashier #2: Yeah, I don’t know how they do it at [other diners in the franchise] but we can’t do that.

Stoned Customer: But I never had a problem getting this before, why can’t you just give me [substitution]?

Cashier #1: Because we can’t, it’s not allowed. We can give you [other meal at a slightly higher price] as it’s a ‘build your own’, but we can’t make a substitution on this one.

Stoned Customer: I don’t understand. All I want is this meal with [substitution], why is this so hard? I’ve never had a problem before.

(the conversation goes on for another minute in a similarly circular fashion, with both cashiers telling him they can’t make substitutions, and him insisting he’s never had a problem. finally, something occurs to me, and i speak up.)

Me: You know, they obviously just can’t make substitutions here, it’s that simple. So if you want your [substitution], you’d better just go some place else.

Stoner Customer: *stares hard at me without blinking for several seconds; i’m almost worried he’s about to get violent, when he turns away, mumbling* Fine, I guess I will then.

Cashier #2: Thank you so much, I couldn’t say anything but I’m so glad you did.

Cashier #1: That was f***ing AWESOME. *gives me a high five and my friends, who witnessed the exchange, follow suit*

Me: *laughing* God, that was such a rush. I could NEVER do that at my job, but I suddenly realized I’m not at work! I don’t f***ing work here, I can say whatever the h*** I want! That felt so damn good!

Unfiltered Story #91987

, , , | Unfiltered | August 30, 2017

(One day on my dinner shift in the cafe I work in, I was taking orders from the registers along with my coworker. An older woman comes to my register while another lady was helped by my coworker and order a meal and a dessert that was about 10 dollars and hand me a twenty. I give her a ten dollar bill and she sits down and gets her meal. She then also bought a drink and hands me another twenty and I gave her the change as well. While taking out orders, the older woman calls for me.)
Customer: I didn’t get my change for my meal.
Me: Oh I’m sorry. But are you sure? I do remember handing you a ten dollar bill when I took down your order.
Customer: I’m sure *she then takes out her wallet and pulls out her money and shows me her dollar bills. She starts getting suspicious* I have the change you gave me for the drink but I don’t have a ten dollar bill here.
Me: Here, let me check the register to see if it over ten dollars then it would mean that I did not given your change.
*ten minutes later, I count the Register and it’s perfectly fine*
Me: So I’ve check the register and it does not contain an extra ten dollar so it means I did given you your change ma’m.
Customer: *starting to get pissed off and think I’m lying* Well I don’t have my change!
Me: Well, did you check if you put it in your pocket or your purse?
Customer: *checks in a pocket of her purse* It’s not here! It’s not in my purse and in my wallet! Maybe YOU dropped it around your register.
*starting to be frustrated I checked the registers counters and still no ten dollar bill. So, I go ask the lady who was help by my coworker that overheard the situation with the other lady*
Customer 2: Yeah, I did see you giving her a ten dollar bill when she was over there. I think she may have dropped it in her purse or on the floor.
*So I go back to the Customer 1 and told her what Customer 2 had said. Customer 1 seems bitter keeps eating in silence and I go check everywhere else that could possibly be but then I gave up since I was in the clear and was not my fault so I start helping other customers. Five minutes later as I was giving a customer a key to use the bathroom…*
Customer 1: Excuse me.
*I turn around and see that in her hand was the ten dollar bill. Turns out it was inside in part of her purse that she didn’t check the first time like everyone had suggested that it may have been in.*

So then she pick up her plate and dropped it off at the tray where dirty plates were put in and without any word and left without at least an apology. And I have not seen her ever since.

Basic Coffee For A Basic B****

, , , , | Right | August 29, 2017

(I am assisting a customer who’s asking about one of our coffee machines. Right from the get-go this woman seems to have a serious bug up her butt about something; however, I do my best to stay professional and cheery.)

Customer: “Is this really all you have? Only six models of [Brand]?”

Me: “For the moment. All of them have been ranked very highly and remain some of our best sellers.”

Customer: “Why is this one such a low price? What’s wrong with it?”

Me: “It’s the most basic model. It doesn’t have any of the fancier settings like a grinder for beans, or attachments like the foaming jet for making cappuccino.”

Customer: “So, it’s junk, then?”

Me: “Not at all. A lot of folk quite like that model. It’s simple and easy to use. It just can’t do anything besides make plain coffee.”

(The woman turns to one of our instant coffee machines, the kind you have to put capsules in, and starts rapidly flicking the handle on the capsule container up and down.)

Customer: “This is probably annoying you like crazy, huh?”

Me: “Uh… not really. If you wish to stress test how durable that machine is at making cup after cup, say for an office setting where it’s going to be in use all day, by all means, go ahead.”

(The customer gives me a sour look.)

Customer: “But you still probably hate your job, right?”

Me: “Not in the least. My coworkers and I get along wonderfully and I enjoy getting to share my own love of gadgets with the customers.”

Customer: “Yeah, right. You’re probably secretly wishing I’d just step outside and get hit by a bus right now so you don’t have to keep dealing with me!”

Me: “Ma’am, I promise you, that is not at all true.”

Customer: “DON’T F****** LIE TO ME!”

(She actually hits the coffee machine and knocks it over while shouting, causing me to take a step back. This seems to piss her off further as she then storms off to the customer service desk. Not wanting to make the situation worse, I just put the machine back and tidy up the kitchenware section until my manager comes over.)

Manager: “So… uh, we just got a complaint about you. A lady said you were being far too helpful and cheerful for an employee, that she couldn’t believe we hired such blatantly dishonest folk, and said unless we fired you this instant she was never coming back.”

Me: “Yeah… I swear, I didn’t mean to come off that way! She… well I really don’t know what her problem was.”

(My manager looks at where we’re standing and shrugs.)

Manager: “I can only guess she really needed her coffee that badly.”

Do you hate bad behavior? Well, misery loves company. Join us at our Antisocial collection in the NAR Store!

You Need Betta Friends

, , , , | Friendly | August 29, 2017

(I have a cat, a 50-gallon saltwater aquarium, and a 5-gallon aquarium containing only a single betta fish, who is the pride of my fish collection. A family emergency requires me to be away from home unexpectedly for a month, so I call in what I think is a trusted friend to watch my pets and my house for me while I’m away. On my way home, I get a text from said friend.)

Friend: “I got you a surprise! I can’t wait until you see it when you get back!”

(I arrive back at home and find, to my horror, that my house is trashed, my cat is missing, the heater to the saltwater aquarium has been unplugged, and most of the fish have subsequently died in the cold winter weather. My betta is dead and there is another one in his tank that has badly shredded fins, indicating that they have fought to the death. Furious, and frantically searching for my cat, I call my friend over.)

Me: “What the h*** happened?! Most of my fish are dead and my cat is missing!”

Friend: “What are you talking about? Your pets are fine.”

Me: “Why is the heater to the saltwater tank unplugged?!”

Friend: “The water felt too warm, so I thought I’d let it cool down a little so they don’t cook to death.”

Me: “They’re tropical fish! The house is cold! The water was just right for them!”

(I drag her over to the betta tank.)

Me: “And what is this?!”

Friend: “That’s your surprise! The tank looked so empty with only one fish in it, so I got him a friend!”

Me: “They’re called fighting fish for a reason! They don’t make friends! You just killed my favorite fish! And where’s my cat?!”

Friend: “I thought you said you re-homed the cat?”

Me: “No, I said the cat was somewhere around the home! She should be here, but she’s not!”

Friend: “Well, I’m so sorry you weren’t clear about that. But you know what? I don’t have to sit here and take you yelling at me, when all I did was try to help you take better care of your pets. I’m leaving, and don’t ever call me for help again!”

Me: “Oh, trust me, I won’t. I value my pets’ lives too much!”

(I couldn’t save the rest of my saltwater fish, as they were all too sickly from the negligent care and died while I tried to rehabilitate them. The other betta I did manage to save, though once its fins started to grow back I realized that it was the ugliest colored fish I’d ever seen. As horrible as it may sound, I couldn’t help but wish that my fish had been the winner. I also found out from a mutual friend that my house had been trashed because she’d been throwing weekly parties without telling me, and that no one thought to call me because she led them to believe I’d given her permission. I also found out that my cat had escaped the house during one of the parties to get away from the noise. Fortunately, my neighbors had found her pleading to come inside during a snowstorm and were taking care of her until I got home, so I got her back. As for my “friend”, we never speak to each other anymore, and quite frankly, I’m happy for that.)

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