I work in the sales call center for an electronics store. Sometimes a caller will get confused and come through to us looking for tech support, in which case we simply transfer them into the correct queue. I have explained this to a caller.

Caller: “Oh, but it’s just a quick question! Don’t transfer me! I know it’ll be quick!”

Me: “I can help you if it’s a quick question, ma’am. If not, I will need to transfer you to our help desk.”

Caller: “It is quick! I just need to know how to access my emails.”

Me: “Oh, that should be easy. Just type [email web address] into your browser.”

Customer: “What’s a browser?”

Me: “The software you use to access your Internet?”

Customer: “Do I have Internet?”

Me: “…I’ll just transfer you to our help desk, ma’am.”

It is a busy Friday night. An older couple is checking out, and the husband hands me a third-party coupon for a specific item that the store is actually doing a better deal on.

Me: “Sir, just so you know, we’re actually offering this item as ‘buy one, get one free.’ If you use your coupon, it’ll cancel out that deal and cost you more.”

Customer: “Stop trying to cheat me out of my money and apply the coupon!”

Me: “I’m not, sir; I am trying to save you money. You can hold on to the coupon and use it next time as our in-store offer is only good until the weekend.”

Customer: “Are you deaf? I said to use my coupon! Don’t they train you to obey the customer?”

Me: “Apologies, sir. I will apply the coupon straight away.”

At this, the customer’s wife, who has been busy loading their items onto the belt, speaks up.

Customer’s Wife: *To me* “We’ll take the deal, dear. Don’t worry about trying to explain it to my husband; you’ll just be holding all these other nice people up.”

Customer: “But the coupon—”

Customer’s Wife: *To her husband* “I’ll explain it when we get home, darling.” *To me* “It’s going to be a long weekend.”

Related:
The Couponator 40: Armageddon
The Couponator 39: The Yarn Of Time
The Couponator 38: The Sandwich Of Frustration
The Couponator 37: The Year Of Reckoning
The Couponator 36: The Counter-Coupon Cashier

Customer: “I’m looking for Anals Of The Western Shore.”

Me: *Blinks* “Annals Of The Western Shore? That’s in the fantasy section.”

Customer: “Oh, is it pronounced an-ahl, and not ay-nal?”

Me: “With absolute certainty, ma’am.”

A moment passes. The penny drops.

Customer: “Oh, my God!“

Back when I was a teenager, a little while before home Internet was a thing, I worked at a popular fast food chain. I was the dining room cleaner and fry maker, and it was my second job.

One day, we got SLAMMED with six full buses of children from some field trip with no warning. We were all left hopping and working our butts off to make burgers and fries and chili for, as I said, six yellow buses full of children. Well… everyone except the managers who, when they saw the buses pull into the parking lot, disappeared into the office.

Two weeks later, we got word: corporate was so pleased with our professionalism! We handled the slam very well! Everyone who worked at the store would be rewarded!

I heard a manager tell his girlfriend that he’d gotten a $200 bonus. Said manager told us workers that corporate was thinking about a reward for us.

A week later, we got our reward: a bronze keychain of the company logo. That was it. Just an ugly, bronze, uncolored keychain no one would actually use. Everyone was rightfully pissed.

Management got all of us on shift together to talk about how the company could not afford to give us monetary bonuses, but the keychain showed how corporate felt about our hard work on their behalf.

I spoke loudly enough for the entire store to hear.

Me: “So, corporate could afford to give management — who did nothing that day — money. But they can’t afford to pay the people who actually did the work?”

I whipped that keychain across the dining room and walked out.

That was the job where I learned that no one above “fry cook” actually cares about the people in the position. It still ticks me off to remember to this day.

My boss is out for the day and calls to see what mail has come in.

Me: “The only thing that’s come in today is some junk mail and a self-addressed envelope, so I’m guessing something from the prothonotary’s office.”

For a lot of things in law, it is required to send a stamped envelope with your address on it so when they have to send, say, a report you requested or confirmation a case was filed, it doesn’t cost them any money and they have the correct address.

My coworker is somewhat new and is incredibly nosy. He likes to listen in on phone calls and conversations and tries to insert himself in to make himself seem important. Apparently, today while I was running checks to the bank, he was snooping in our boss’s office and saw the self-addressed envelope. Later, when the other senior lawyer in our office — [Boss]’s dad — comes back from lunch, [Coworker] decides to try and cause a little scene.

Coworker: “So, did you happen to see the mail today?”

Senior Lawyer: “No. As you can tell, I just got back, and unless it’s specifically addressed to me, [Boss] usually opens it. Why?”

Coworker: “Well, just, an interesting envelope came in today. It had no return label, which was a little suspicious.”

Senior Lawyer: “Did you open it?”

Coworker: “No, I didn’t think it would be safe to. Honestly, with the state of the world, I couldn’t be sure there wasn’t some sort of white powder inside!”

I hear this all from my desk and decide to cut the bulls***.

Me: “It’s a self-addressed envelope. That’s literally from us. You can tell immediately by how it’s formatted, and the printer has an error where it prints a line of dots, which is on the envelope. Besides, that’s your envelope, stupid. Did you not request something from the sheriff’s office last week that needed this?”

Coworker: “Oh, yes.”

He was then given permission to open the envelope and, sure enough, it was a document he had asked for.

I told [Boss] about it later, and he informed [Coworker] that if there is any mail he needed to be concerned with, [Boss] would give it to him directly or I would email him a copy to try and curb his snooping.