Time To Moooove To Another Cowllege
(For three years, my job was to deal with angry parents. I was very good at it. Most of the time.)
Parent: *angrily* “I need to speak to someone about my daughter’s roommates!”
Me: “Okay, ma’am, what seems to be the problem?”
Parent: “Her roommates are awful to her! ”
Me: “Okay. Can you detail the problems for me? The more specific you can be, the better we can help your daughter and her roommates settle their problems.”
Parent: “They curse, and they play loud music, and they’re, well, they’re just not like us.”
Me: “In what way are they not like you, ma’am?”
Parent: “Well, they’re… farm people.”
(Twenty seconds of absolute silence as I am, for once, thrown off my game. I’ve heard racial B.S. and religious B.S., but never farm B.S.)
Parent: “Not that there’s anything wrong with farm people. It’s just that we’re not farm people.”
(I’m still in shock. She keeps going.)
Parent: I mean, farms are useful, but we’re from the city. My daughter grew up going to the theater and to museums.”
Me: “Ma’am, I can assure you, as a kid from a farm myself, I’ve been to the theater and to museums. What we probably have here is a personality clash.”
(There’s about a ten-second pause that just drips with uncomfortable.)
Parent: “Perhaps I should speak to someone else.”
This story is part of the Farmer roundup.
Question of the Week
Have you ever served a bad customer who got what they deserved?
