(My family is playing a fast-paced game where you need to get another person to guess a word or phrase. My uncle is trying to get my dad to guess a phrase.)
Uncle: “What Joseph’s father gave to him.”
Dad: “A coat.”
Uncle: “Yeah, but if he were an octopus.”
Dad: “A coat of arms!”
Uncle: “Yes, that’s it!”
(A customer came in earlier and purchased some of our homemade potato salad. He now calls.)
Me: “[Deli], how may I help you?”
Customer: “Yes, who am I speaking to?”
Me: “This is [My Name].”
Customer: “I was in there earlier, and I bought some of your potato salad.”
Me: *thinking: We JUST made that this morning; how is there a problem with it?* “Yes?”
Customer: “It is the best potato salad I have ever had! Whoever makes it there, make sure that they never change the recipe; it’s delicious!”
Me: *startled* “I… Thank you. [Coworker] makes the potato salad, so if you want I can transfer you to—”
Customer: “No, that’s okay. I just wanted to let you know that it’s really good! Have a nice day, now.”
Me: “You, too. Thank you for calling!”
(The customers that call to compliment and not complain are few and far between, but they really brighten my day!)
When I was in grad school I was hit by a car while walking home one night. At the time it appeared all I suffered was road rash and bruises and I was sent home from the ER pretty quickly, but over the next several months internal symptoms started manifesting, culminating in me being unable to eat or drink anything without suffering severe abdominal pain.
I’m home with my parents for the summer when it gets so bad they call me an ambulance and accompany me to the ER. Before anyone can tell the first person who sees me not to do so, they’ve put morphine in my IV, which I do NOT get along with, so when the doctor arrives to check me out I’m being terribly sick while my poor mother holds the bucket. The doctor takes one look at me (female, age 22) and starts lecturing me about the evils of binge drinking and really, if I’m going to drink enough beer to make me sick I deserve the consequences. By the time I could lift my head enough to see what was going on, two nurses and an orderly were holding back my dad from wreaking grave bodily injury on this idiot. (As it happens, never before or since have I ever had enough to drink that it made me sick.)
Turned out the impact trauma had caused intestinal adhesions which needed to be surgically cut loose so peristalsis would function normally again. No thanks to that idiot doc, or the four after him — the first doctor who actually listened to me and who performed the surgery that fixed everything was, not coincidentally, the only female doctor I saw through the whole ordeal. I have not seen a male doctor since!
(I work at a resort facility that attracts all kinds of customers from business people during the week to weddings on the weekends, but especially appeals to families with our waterpark and arcade fun-center. We have a cancellation policy of 24 hours prior to the guest’s check-in time at 4:00 pm. I overhear the following story between my coworker at the front desk and a lady on business travel. A guest walks in the door with a tight frown and balled fists.)
Coworker: “Hi, how can I help you?”
Guest: “I didn’t know that this was a family hotel! The website didn’t say anything about this being a family-friendly hotel! I want to cancel my reservation!”
(Doesn’t “resort” sort of imply that there is more to the building than JUST our hotel?)
Coworker: “Well, unfortunately, it is already past the cancellation window. So, you will still be charged for the night.”
Guest: *sourly* “What?! I can’t believe this! I’m here for business, and I don’t want to be bothered by kids running wild in your stupid hotel. I’m sure the rooms are just going to be crappy, too!”
(This is a Tuesday, and there is almost no one in our hotel today.)
Coworker: “I do apologize, ma’am, but that is our policy. It is actually fairly quiet today, as we are only at 22% occupancy. I will place you on our top floor so that you will have the most quiet, with no one above you. Also, since you are here for business, I would be glad to remove the $7.95 resort fee for you since you won’t be using the waterpark.”
(At this point the guest is quiet and they complete the check-in process. Five minutes later there is a call from our in-house phone from her room.)
Coworker: “Hello, this is [Coworker] at front desk.”
Guest: “I want to speak to a manager!”
Coworker: “All right, I will need to put you on hold while I radio him to come to the phone.”
(My manager comes to take the call and is silent for a long time while he listens to her complaints about the room being dusty, having a streak on the mirror, among other nitpicky things she tried to find as soon as she walked in the door. Apparently, she is pretty nasty about it, since I can hear her from my computer.)
Manager: “I’m very sorry about that. Let me see what I can do here for you, and I’ll give you a call back.”
(He upgrades her to our whirlpool suite at an even more reduced rate. Then he has our housekeeping inspector go make sure the room is perfect. Just as he is about to call the guest back, she arrives at the front desk.)
Manager: “Oh, I was just trying to call you. We have a whirlpool suite ready for you, if you would like.”
Guest: “NO! I am not staying here! The room was a mess! This is horrible service. And this was the last straw: I found a cockroach in the bathtub! I have pictures if you want to see.”
(Of course, he does want to; we don’t have bug problems, as it is March and still too cold for bugs. We certainly wouldn’t have roaches. Her photos don’t show much really and she conveniently does not have a photo of the bug.)
Guest: “I want to check out now and receive a receipt with my zeroed-out balance.”
Manager: “All right. I did reduce your rate for you, so it will only charge you $65.00. Here is your receipt.”
Guest: “WHAT?! You are still going to charge me?! You are a horrible manager, and I’ll get you fired for this! I’m going to call my attorney and take you to court! I’ll spread reviews all over the Internet!”
Manager: “You are free to do that.”
Guest: “Augh!” *storms out the door*
Manager: *under his breath* “You bet I’m still going to charge you!”
(My daughter is six years old and takes everything literally. For example, when saying something stinks such as “Oh, well, that stinks; you can come out for the day” she will ask me, “How does it smell?” Today I had to take her to her pediatric cardiologist, to have her heart murmur checked. I explained to her that it wasn’t going to hurt and that the doctor was just going to listen to her heart. She said okay and I thought nothing more of it. But when the nurse came in.)
Nurse: “All right, we are going to look at your heart.”
Daughter: “Okay. I took my shirt off, but how are you going to open my body to see my heart? Because Mommy said this wouldn’t hurt.”
(I will admit, the nurse’s eyes only bugged out for a second before she pulled herself together and explained that she had a special camera to look at it without having to “open her body.” Next time I will try to remember to explain a bit better!)
