Using The Same (Air)Line Over And Over

A woman approaches me on the sales floor and wants to purchase an expensive lamp. It’s a large lamp and comes in a pretty big box. She’s in southern Florida on vacation and wants to take the lamp back to New York on a plane. 

Customer: “Can I take this on the plane?”

Me: “I’m afraid I don’t know. I guess it would depend on the airline.”

Customer: “Can I check it like luggage or carry it on?”

Me: “I don’t know that, either. Maybe you could call the airline directly and ask?”

Customer: “Will it fit down the aisle?”

Me: “I don’t know.”

Customer: “Do they charge extra for it?”

Me: “I don’t know.”

Customer: “Well, can you call [Airline] and ask?”

Me: “Ma’am, it really would be better to call them yourself. That way you can ask them their policy and get the correct information firsthand.”

Customer: “You’ll do it if you want my business!”

Me: “Ma’am, you’re the one with the questions. Call them yourself, or leave the lamp here to be bought by someone else.”

It’s getting kind of busy and other customers need me, so I simply walk away from her. A few minutes later, I see her on a cell phone. I hope she’s on the phone with the airline, but apparently not. 

She drags the lamp up to the front, all the while barraging the cashier with questions.

Customer: “Can I take this on a plane?”

Cashier: “I’m afraid I don’t know.”

Customer: “Will it fit down the aisle?”

Cashier: “I don’t know that, either.”

Customer: “If I leave my hotel at 7:00 am with the lamp, will I make my flight?”

Cashier: “Ma’am, I work in a furniture store. If you want to know about the airlines, you need to call the airline yourself.”

Customer: *Angrily* “What happened to customer service?!”

Cashier: *Clearly done* “My job begins and ends with the furniture store, ma’am. The airline isn’t my job or my problem.”

The customer pays for the lamp and storms off. I am then struck speechless when the phone rings only a few minutes after she leaves, and the manager is requested.

Manager: “I don’t know. I don’t know that, either. Why would I, or anyone else in my store, know that? No, that’s not their job. Fine.” 

He rustles a lot of paper on his desk and then makes scratching noises on a sheet of paper with a pencil.

Manager: “I’m filing it right now.”

He puts the paper into a shredder and holds the phone nice and close as the shredder noisily does what shredders are supposed to do to the piece of paper.

Manager: “Your complaint about my staff has been filed in the appropriate place. Next time, call the airline yourself.”

Then he hangs up, sees me watching, and goes:

Manager: “Seriously… What the h*** is wrong with people?! I just don’t get it.”