Perfect Disgust

, , , | Learning | November 7, 2017

Me: *looks over at classmate’s computer* “Your tenses aren’t aligning properly.” *fixes document on her computer*

Classmate: *jokingly* “Ugh, [My Name], you’re such a perfectionist! Everything you do is so perfect! I bet you sort your cereal boxes alphabetically!”

Me: “Oh, come on. If you could see what I do at home, you’d think I’m the most disgusting person alive.”

Classmate: “Oh… Ew.” *ignores me for the rest of the period*

Me: *confused, thinking about what I said as the bell rings and she leaves, and then to nobody* “OH! NOT WHAT I DO, WHAT I’M LIKE! IT’S WHAT I’M LIKE! Agh, I wonder what she was thinking when I said that?!”

(We switched seats in that class and haven’t talked since.)

Your Attempts At A Refund Are Not Silky Smooth

, , , , , | Right | November 7, 2017

Customer: “Do you clean coats?”

Me: “Yes, we do.”

Customer: “How much is it?”

Me: “It depends, miss. Some coats are longer, and the fabric is thicker; those will need more dry-cleaning chemical to soak in and more time to dry, and will therefore cost more.”

Customer: “Okay, so, how much for a long coat?”

Me: “You’ll have to show me the item, because I can’t estimate the cost until I’ve seen it. I’m sorry.”

Customer: “Here’s my stuff.”

Me: “These coats are wool and are as long as a person. They will be $18.95 each. That blouse is white silk, but the problem is that there are yellow stains on it and we cannot guarantee it will be cleaned fully or even at all, due to the apparent age of the stain. Would you like to clean it still?”

Customer: “Yeah, just try it.”

Me: “Okay.” *processes the ticket order for the customer*

Customer: “I also want to pay for it now.”

Me: “Okay. The total for two coats and that blouse is $39.85.”

(The customer pays and leaves. One week later:)

Customer: “Okay, I’m here to pick up my stuff.”

Me: “I remember your name. Here it is.”

(The customer picks up and leaves. Two hours later:)

Customer: *brings in blouse* “Uh, this isn’t cleaned.”

Me: “I did mention to you that we would try, but we couldn’t promise or guarantee you that it would be cleaned fully. It spread out, but it’s not noticeable to the naked eye unless people look at it carefully. You said you still want to dry-clean it despite my protests.”

Customer: “I understand, but I believe that it is in good business practice to give me back a portion of the money I paid, since it wasn’t cleaned properly.”

Me: “We could not complete the cleaning; our chemicals would’ve been too harsh if we kept trying to get the stains out and would have disintegrated the silk fabric, and then it would have been ruined for good. We will not refund you all of your money for that item, but some, okay?”

Customer: “Okay.”

Me: “Here is your money.”

(I refund $3.50 out of $6.95 for cleaning said blouse.)

Customer: *looks down in shock* “When I said, ‘portion,’ I meant this amount.” *points at $18.95*

Me: “That was for the coat, not the blouse. Since that was cleaned properly and stains from that coat were gone, we will not refund you for that.”

Customer: “I still believe it is good business practice that you refund me a portion of the payment.”

Me: “You mean half of the bill, right?”

Customer: “Well…”

Me: “We will not, and it’s up to you to choose whether accept the $3.50 or not.”

Customer: “Fine. I’ll just never come back here again, then.”

(I said nothing more, and the customer left when they realized they weren’t getting anything else.)

How To Cheese Off The Demon Horde

, , , , , | Working | November 7, 2017

(I manage a locally-owned pizza shop where we have a “continual sale” on our cheese pizzas. I am chatting with a new hire about normal customer service issues we encounter.)

New Hire: “So, do we actually get people who are angry because pepperoni is not automatically included on their pizza?”

Me: “Oh, my God. You have no idea.”

(I start to give her several examples, but get summoned to the front register by the door chime.)

Me: “Good evening, sir. Are you placing an order for here or to go?”

Customer: “Yeah, give me one of those medium cheese pizzas for $6. Oh, and throw some pepperoni on there, too.”

Me: “Certainly, sir. Your total for carryout is $7.69.”

Customer: “WHAT? $7.69?! THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS! WHAT HAPPENED TO THE $6 PIZZA DEAL?!”

Me: “My apologies, sir. The $6 deal is for the cheese pizza; adding pepperoni also adds the price for one topping, bringing your total to $7.69.”

Customer: “Well, that’s some d*** expensive pepperoni, then! Fine, here’s your money, but it’s highway robbery, I tell you!”

(I give him his change, then carry the ticket back to the pizza kitchen.)

Me: “Hey, [New Hire], f*** you; you summoned them! So, please make this gentleman’s medium cheese pizza, add pepperoni, for me.”

New Hire: “My sincerest apologies, friend; I did not mean to summon the demon hordes. I shall pay for my error by making the best cheese pizza, add pepperoni, that you have ever seen!”

(I think she’ll fit in quite well with us.)

A Welcome Method To Overstaying Your Welcome

, , , , , , , | Friendly | November 7, 2017

(Living in a college apartment with five other girls can get interesting. One of the girls goes home for a month in the summer, and when she comes back, her sister comes with her. She asks each of us if we’d mind her sister staying for a week or two, just until she finds a place of her own. Since we’re all busy helping prepare for the wedding of another roommate — and helping her move to her married apartment, while another girl takes over her spot — we don’t mind, so long as it’s only for a week, two tops. She also asks to borrow my camp cot. Unfortunately, a month passes, and her sister’s still there. There are other issues as well, and I get designated to talk to the roommate, since she’s a friend of mine.)

Me: “Hey, [Roommate #1], can we talk? It’s about your sister.”

Roommate #1: *resigned sigh* “Sorry, but you know how it is. It can be hard to find an apartment, especially when you’re new to a town.”

Me: “That’s just it. I was talking with her last night, and she hasn’t even started looking! She tried to foist me off by saying she’d start this weekend, and then immediately called [Friend] to make plans for the entire weekend.”

Roommate #1: “Ugh. I’ll talk to her.”  

Me: “If that was it, that would be one thing, but… the cot’s destroyed, and it wasn’t cheap; I don’t know how she managed to damage it so badly. She’s also been eating everyone else’s food, and when we’ve asked her to stop, she refuses and says she’ll just replace it. But she hasn’t. I’m out over $100 in food already, and some of the others are out more. We really can’t afford to feed your sister; we’ve budgeted carefully to get through the semester. It’s one thing if she asked, or if we offered. But just taking our food off the shelves is theft, and a couple of the girls are getting really upset; they want to call the landlord and get him to sort it out. I’ve talked them out of it, because his solution would probably be to cancel your contract, and none of us want you punished. It’s not your fault.”

Roommate #1: *bursts into tears* “I’m so sorry! I’m trying to get her to start looking for a job and a place of her own. I really am!”

Me: “Oh, hon! I know. It’s not your fault. It’s harder when it’s family. I get that. What can I do to help?”

Roommate #1: “I don’t know. I’m trying to motivate her, but… she just doesn’t seem to care.”

Me: “All right. She’s your little sister, and you feel like you have to protect her. I’ve been there. Do you want me to step in? I’m not her sister. I can be the designated b**** in this situation; it doesn’t matter to me if she hates me.”

Roommate #1: “Would you? Could you? But what… I mean, do you have an idea?”

Me: “I do, if you want me to. In fact, I can almost guarantee it will work. But I’ll need you to stand firm with us.”

Roommate #1: “I can do that. What’s the plan?”

(I tell her, and then we wait for her sister to come home, which doesn’t happen until very late. I’m waiting for her on the front porch.)

Me: “[Sister], we need to talk.”

Sister: “Can it wait until tomorrow? I’m bushed!”

Me: “No, it can’t wait. We have a problem.”

Sister: “Well, talk to [Roommate] about it. I’m going to bed!”

Me: “That’s just it. No, you’re not.”

Sister: “What?”

Me: “You don’t live here. We agreed to let you stay for a week, two at most. As of today, it’s been a month. If you want to stay another night, you need to start paying your share of rent. That’s [amount], by the way.”

Sister: “I can’t afford that!”

Me: “Not my problem. Although any apartment around here is going to run more than one seventh of this place, just so you know.”

Sister: “Seriously, can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m going to bed.”

Me: “You’re still not getting it, are you? You aren’t crossing this threshold again.”  

Sister: *it finally clicks that I’m serious* “You can’t do that!”

Me: “Actually, I can. I live here. You don’t.”

Sister: “Yes, I do!”

Me: “No, you don’t. Your name is not on the contract, you’re not paying rent, and you’re stealing everyone’s food. And if you step through that door again, I’m calling the cops and having you arrested.”

Sister: “For what?”

Me: “Theft and trespassing, for starters. And since the door’s locked, it would also be breaking and entering.”

Sister: “You can’t do this!”

Me: “Yes, I can.”

Sister: “But what about my stuff?”

Me: “Your sister and I can bring you out anything you need, and we’ll both be glad to help you haul everything to your new apartment, just as soon as you’ve found one.”

Sister: “But where am I supposed to sleep?”

Me: “The landlord took the old love seat out of the living room last week; it’s on the patio out back. My sleeping bag is already waiting for you. I’ll need it back in the morning.”

Sister: “You can’t just leave me out here! I’ll start looking tomorrow, but you can’t just leave me outside!”

Me: “Oh, just stop whining for one second in your life! It’s still summer; you’ll be lucky if it gets down to 70. You’re not going to freeze. It’s no worse than camping — better, really, since you have the love seat — and I know you’ve gone camping plenty of times.”

Sister: “But… I… You… But…!”

Me: “Your sister and I visited the housing office after class today. We have a print-out of available places you can start looking at first thing in the morning. Give me a call if it gets colder than the forecast said; I’ll bring you out a spare blanket. Good night.”

(I let myself in, and then lock the door behind me.)

Sister: *starts pounding on the door and ringing the bell* “Let me in! You can’t do this!”

(Hearing the noise, everyone starts coming into the living room to see what’s going on.)

Me: “[Roommate #1]’s sister will be sleeping on the love seat out back tonight, after which she’ll be finding an apartment of her own. Don’t worry; I’ve loaned her a sleeping bag.”

Roommate #2: *starts laughing* “Oh, that’s genius! She’s not going to freeze though, is she?”

Me: “We’ve all been sleeping with our windows open, trying to catch a breeze. It’s hot out; she’s more likely to sweat to death than freeze. In fact, she’ll probably have more pleasant temperatures than any of us.”

Roommate #2: “Oh, good. Night, then!”

(Everyone else goes back to bed as well, and the sister soon gives up yelling, ringing, and knocking. She then tries to sneak in the back door, but finds it locked tight. Then she tries calling her sister repeatedly.)

Roommate #1: *looking at her phone* “What do I do?”

(I hold out my hand, and she gives me the phone. I answer:)

Me: “[Roommate #1]’s phone, [My Name] speaking.”

Sister: “Let me in, you [insult]!”

Me: “Nope. Not happening. Have a nice night.”

Sister: *screams and hangs up, finally going around back and flinging herself on the loveseat*

(The next morning, I handed her the sheaf of papers with apartment listings. She had a place of her own within an hour. Go figure.)

 

Ringing Up Some Gender Stereotypes

, , , , | Right | November 7, 2017

(The store where I work has a strict policy about always having someone on the floor to help customers, and that person isn’t allowed to hop on register unless it is extremely busy. I’m female and have been helping a male customer on the floor who has been perhaps a bit overly friendly, but has seemed normal enough up to this point.)

Me: “[Male Coworker] here will ring you up!”

Customer: “Aren’t you going to ring me up?”

Me: “No, [Male Coworker] is on register right now, but I promise he’ll take care of you.”

Customer: “It’s just… A man’s got to have a woman helping him, you know?”

Me: “Uh.”

Customer: “You know, you’ve got to have a man and a woman; you can’t have two guys, right? Tarzan needs his Jane; you can’t have Tarzan and Tarzan, you know?”

(The customer continued this line of bizarre rambling for another minute or so while I smiled blandly for lack of any other idea what to do, occasionally exchanging looks with my manager over the customer’s shoulder like, “WTF?” Fortunately, my coworker eventually finished with the customer he’d been helping and started ringing up this one’s items, giving my manager a moment to shoo me into the back room so I could hide until this guy left.)