I work at a hospital in the central supply department. We carry just about everything: patient care items such as deodorant or slippers, first aid supplies like bandages or gauze, large items like crutches or commodes, and everything in between. Basically, if the nurses carry it in the supply closet, it probably came from us.

One night, I get a call from a nurse on the fourth floor.

Me: “Central Supply, this is [My Name].”

Nurse: “Yeah… is this Central Supply?”

I can feel my eye twitch.

Me: “Yes. Can I help you?”

Nurse: “I’m looking for… a… thing.”

Me: “Okay. What kind of thing?”

Nurse: “It’s plastic. It comes in a package.”

Me: *Putting on my best customer service voice* “That’s about 75% of our inventory. Can you tell me what it’s used for?”

Nurse: “It’s plaaaastic. It comes in a paaaackage.”

Me: “IV tubing?”

Nurse: “No.”

Me: “Catheter?”

Nurse: “No.”

Me: “Oxygen tubing?”

Nurse: “No. It’s plastic. It comes in a package.”

This goes on for a few minutes with me trying to guess the item or trying to get her to describe it to me. The nurse keeps giving me the same answer; only the pronunciation of the words “plastic” and “package” changes.

Me: “Do you have an empty package I could look at?”

Nurse: “No.”

Me: “Is there more than one in the package?”

Nurse: “It’s plastiiiiic. It comes in a packaaaaaage.”

Me: “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re asking for. You’re welcome to come down and look around. Or maybe you could ask one of the other nurses.”

Nurse: “I—”

Me: “I’m getting a call on the other line from the ER. I have to get it. Let me know if you find out what it’s called. Okay. Bye.”

Fortunately, the call from the ER is an easy one. But as soon as I get off the phone with them, I receive another call from the fourth floor.

Me: “Central Supply, this is [My Name].”

Charge Nurse: “Hi, this is [Charge Nurse] from [department].”

Me: “Hi. How can I help you?”

Charge Nurse: “Do you carry water pitcher liners?”

A light bulb goes off and my customer service filter vanishes.

Me: “Oh! Is that what she wanted?!”

Charge Nurse: *Chuckling* “Yeah.”

Me: “Yes. We have those; I’ll bring some right up.”

Not the strangest call I had while I worked there, but definitely the most frustrating.

I work at a call center for a credit card company. I am processing a cash advance from a customer’s credit card to his checking account.

Caller: “Is this going to be available immediately in my checking account or will I need to wait?”

I have to tell him the exact time frame.

Me: “Oh, yes, sir, it is most definitely available now! In fact, any time you do a cash advance from your credit card with us to your checking or savings account over the telephone or on our website before 9:00 pm CT Monday through Friday, it will be available in the bank account immediately for any transaction. You do not have to wait at all!”

Caller: “Sir, I’m going to be honest with you. When I ask if it will be available immediately, it is a yes or no answer! I expect you to say either yes or no! I do not need a novel-length explanation, okay?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, and I do understand. I was only trying to help you, and this information will help you out should you need to do another cash advance in the future.”

Caller: “I said that I didn’t need your novel-length explanations, you idiot! I do not have time for that!” *Hangs up*

My family owns a dairy restaurant. I help them out sometimes. We serve ice cream products plus burgers, fries, chicken, etc.

One night, I make a young woman a chocolate milkshake and she is not satisfied. She complains to my uncle who co-owns the restaurant.

Customer: “This milkshake is watered down!”

Uncle: “I’m sorry if you’re not satisfied. We actually don’t put water in our milkshakes, though! If you give me your milkshake, I’ll take it and make you another one.”

Customer: “Um… I don’t think I will. Can’t you just make me another milkshake and let me keep this one?”

Uncle: “I’m sorry, but anytime an order is wrong or a customer isn’t satisfied with their order, we have to take the other order back and get you a new one.”

The girl drives off with her husband. She calls and I pick up the phone

Me: “[Restaurant], this is [My Name]; how can I help you?”

Customer: “I don’t appreciate you cussing me out when the milkshake you made me was nasty! I know [Co-Owner] and I’ll tell him that you cussed me out!”

Me: “I didn’t cuss you out. I am sorry you weren’t satisfied with your order. If you had given us your old milkshake, we would have given you another one. Also, I know [Co-Owner], too, and he is my uncle. He knows I didn’t cuss you out! My family owns the restaurant.”

Customer: “Well, you have a s***ty day!” *Hangs up*

The customer is now banned from the restaurant.

I’m a waitress and we recently had a manager transferred to our restaurant. She’s nice but has a tendency to mess up orders in the kitchen, and the servers get wrong orders sent to wrong tables.

For the first couple of days, we’re a little understanding. But after a week, it keeps happening repeatedly, and we’re constantly double-checking tickets. It takes longer and customers get impatient with us, and it’s affecting our tips. 

One busy Friday night, after a few mess-ups, the manager gives us permission to double-check with her. But after two rounds of the servers asking, “Are you sure?” or, “Table number?” she gets frustrated and snaps at us.

My coworker finds a clever way to get around it by saying, “You just said table number forty-three, right?” and if it’s wrong, then she just plays it off, and if she’s right, then it makes everyone look good. So, the rest of us start following suit. 

However, even when I’m double-checking, I’m still getting wrong orders or missing something from the orders. Up until this point, I’ve been fortunate to have patient and understanding customers, but my last table yelled at me for taking too long and forgetting a few items. So, I go back to the kitchen to clarify.

Me: “Manager, table forty-three is missing some items from their order.” *Sets the receipt on the counter* “Could you please get that out to me really fast?”

Manager: “Fine, fine. In the meantime, will you take this to table twenty-one?”

Me: “I’m not opposed, but that’s not in my area and—”

Manager: “Take it to table twenty-one!”

I stand there a little shocked and start to take the plate when the waitress who has that section comes and gets it. I wait a moment longer and the manager slams down a platter of sides that I assume were for my original table, despite them not being the sides. 

Manager: “Table forty-three!”

Me: “Are you sure?”

There’s a moment of silence as the manager stares at me, appalled, and then glares, and I realize that I have let my frustration get to me. 

Manager: “You don’t need to take that attitude with me! I told you the table number!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I just wanted to be sure—”

Manager: “If you can’t tone down that attitude, you might as well go home. I have no use for sassy, disrespectful waitresses right now.”

My heart is pounding really hard and my cheeks are burning with embarrassment and anger. Half of the guests are looking at us, having heard the manager yell at me, and the other servers are staring at the two of us, waiting to see what will happen next. 

For some reason, however, I reach behind me, undo my apron, and toss it into the hamper behind the door.

Me: “Fine, then. See you tomorrow night.”

Manager: “WAIT A MINUTE! YOU CAN’T JUST LEAVE IN THE MIDDLE OF DINNER RUSH!”

Now the entire restaurant is staring, and I find the courage to say:

Me: “You gave me the option, so… I’m going home.”

And, with that, I walked out the door, trying to hold my head high and not cry. 

If this doesn’t improve, I will probably put in my two weeks this next week.

This began around the end of last year. We were de-icing the stairs at work before the ice storm our weather people told us about. My coworker decided he was going to tell me that he wanted to date me. I instantly rejected him because I have a boyfriend and we’ve been together for five years. He then told me that he kept inviting me places to get to know me and “just hang out” with a beautiful girl. Cue discomfort. I thought it was the end of that after I told him I wasn’t interested in him at all ever.

A couple of months later, I think around January 11th, we were out early in the morning to shovel wet snow that hit us. Our maintenance supervisor couldn’t really help us at that time because he was watching his kid, so my coworker and I were alone again. By the time we finished shoveling the snow, we were exhausted. Our snowblower stopped working again, and then we had to use actual shovels to move the snow.

We were writing down our times when he asked me out again. I told him he needed to learn how to take no for an answer when we were arriving at our HQ, because he’d apparently asked me to dinner and I’d agreed the day before. I don’t remember this, and I took it back if I did, because I was going to see my boyfriend again that same day after we finished work.

He went quiet for the whole time it took us to write down our times and then go back to our maintenance garage to put everything away. He then decided he was going to tell me I had no future with my boyfriend all because he doesn’t have/want a job. (Spoiler alert: neither do I. I’m working because I need money for supplies.)

I thought that was the end of it when I ignored him for the rest of the months, unless it involved work, up until a month ago. He was trying to get with some girl, so I figured it was safe for me to be friendly again and increase the efficiency of the workplace. Well, the girl ghosted him, and now he’s turned back to me for “friendship”. 

So far, I’ve turned down all his offers to hang out or eat lunch with him. I plan on telling him, fully, to back off because it’ll never happen if he asks if I want to date or go somewhere with him again. He’s already making small remarks about my boyfriend when I bring him up, which shows how much he hates that I’m dating someone. Maybe when I find a new job, I’ll give you an update.