It’s A Hassle To Do As You’re Told

, , , , , | Right | February 25, 2018

(I work in the footwear department at a store. One day, while I am stocking the shelves, a customer approaches me.)

Customer: “Can you help me find something?”

Me: “Absolutely! How can I help you?”

Customer: “Do you have [Work Boots] in a size 9?”

Me: “Unfortunately, we no longer have those in stock. Would you like me to check online for you?”

Customer: “Sure.”

(The customer and I walk to the nearest computer terminal and do a quick web search. We find the work boots pretty quickly.)

Me: “All right, sir, would you like to place an order for these work boots?”

Customer: “Stop hassling me!”

Me: *caught off guard by his sudden change in attitude* “I’m sorry?”

Customer: *slowly* “Stop hassling me.”

Me: “I’m not trying to hassle you, sir. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. Does this mean you don’t want the boots?”

Customer: “I would have ordered them if you hadn’t just hassled me!” *walks out*

Setting Precedent For The President

, , , , , | Right | February 25, 2018

(I used to work at a call center that was contracted with a health insurance company. As you can imagine, I got a lot of “interesting” phone calls. This is probably one of the more unusual calls I ever took.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Insurance Company]. My name is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Customer: *with a thick Southern accent* “Yeah, can I please talk to the president of [Insurance Company]?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m unable to connect you with the president of [Insurance Company].”

Customer: “Why? Is he too busy with his coffee break to speak to me? Do you even know who I am?”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry, but I have no way to transfer you to our corporate office.”

Customer: “Well, that’s just silly. Is there anyone there I can talk to?”

Me: “I would be happy to assist you today, ma’am. How can I help—”

Customer: *cutting me off* “No, I don’t want to speak to you. You’re being uncooperative. Can I talk to the president of [Insurance Company], please?”

Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way, but as I said before, customer service does not have the direct number to [Insurance Company]’s corporate office.”

Customer: “Then let me speak to your manager.”

Me: “All right, I’ll be right back with him.”

(By this point, I’m getting a little frustrated. I grab my manager, and he hooks up my headset to his headset so that I can listen to the conversation. It’s a common practice where I work to observe and listen to a manager de-escalating an issue.)

Manager: “Thanks so much for holding. My name is [Manager] and I’m [My Name]’s manager. How can I help you?”

Customer: “GET ME THE PRESIDENT OF [Insurance Company] NOW!”

Manager: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t do that. I can help you with whatever you need.”

Customer: *suddenly cheery* “Oh, all right!”

(For the remainder of the phone call, the customer was cheery and cooperative. Turns out she actually had a complicated billing issue that my manager had to send to another department for resolution. We still don’t know why she was so adamant to speak to the president of the company, though.)

Unfiltered Story #105950

, | Unfiltered | February 22, 2018

(I’ve just sorted some laundry, and am about to take it downstairs to put it in the washer. My two kids are in the room with me.)

Me: Okay, I’m gonna go start some laundry. I’ll be back up in a minute.

4 year old son: *sighs, and says completely deadpan* Laundry. Always laundry.

Me: *laughing* Well, if everyone would stop wearing clothes all the time, I wouldn’t have so much laundry to do!

This Aunt Gets Around

, , , , , , | Friendly | February 20, 2018

(I work in a church. During busy times, we often take on extra shifts as hosts. That means we sometimes meet people who work completely different schedules.)

Guest Host: “Did I hear you were a missionary in California?”

Me: “Yes, in the San Fernando area.”

Guest Host: “Oh, which cities?”

Me: “Van Nuys, Sylmar, San Fernando, Palmdale…”

Guest Host: “I used to spend summers in Palmdale, working for relatives! Do you know [Man]?”

Me: “I don’t, but I was in the Spanish-speaking congregation there.”  

Guest Host: “Oh. And he speaks English.”

Me: “I have a friend from Palmdale with that last name. Is he related to [Friend]?”

Guest Host: “Yes, and I’m her aunt!”

(The next week, I mention this to another host.)

Host: “Well, I’m from California, but up by Oakland.”

Me: “Oh, my aunt lives in Piedmont, so I know that area.”

Host: “Who’s your aunt?”

Me: “[Aunt].”

Host: “She and I used to babysit each other’s children!”

(The world is sometimes extremely small.)

Son Of A ‘Sen

, , , , , , , | Related | February 20, 2018

(My boyfriend and I have been dating for a few weeks, but things are getting serious, fast, so it’s time to have the “please tell me we aren’t related” discussion, before we move ahead. As we’re both clearly of northern European descent, it is a slight worry. Names have been changed, but the sentiment is the same.)

Me: “Do you have any Webers in your family?”

Boyfriend: “No.”

Me: “Any Kleins?”

Boyfriend: “Nope!”

Me: “Mayer?”

Boyfriend: “Nuh-uh.”

Me: “Lamberts?”

Boyfriend: “Nope, the only Germans I have are Fischers.”

Me: “Okay, well, that’s my dad’s family back to the great-great-grandparents, so I think we’re good there. How about Petersen?”

Boyfriend: “Uh… Yeah.”

Me: “Well, crap. Who’s a Petersen?”

Boyfriend: “My mom.”

Me: *disappointed, because this guy was really something special* “Dang it! My mom’s a Petersen, too.”

(We both kind of mope for a minute, before a thought strikes me.)

Me: “Wait, with an ‘en’ or an ‘on’?”

Boyfriend: “’On.’ I mean, it was ‘en’ before we came through Ellis Island, but that was like four generations back, at least. We’re Norwegian.”

Me: “Oh, thank heaven! We’re Danish! And that line came over three generations back.”

(Cue a round of relieved laughter before we continue, and ensure that we’re not related for at least four generations on all sides. We’re fine, and get married only five months later. So, of course, at the wedding reception, my new brother-in-law gets clever.)

Brother-In-Law: “Hey, Peterson!”

(A good portion of the crowd turned, some rising halfway before they realized what was going on. My uncle smacked him lightly upside the head.)

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