Washing Your Hands Of Him

, , , , , | Right | January 31, 2018

(It’s the opening night at a brand new location of an upscale movie theater chain in Los Angeles. A colleague and I are working customer service. An enraged man with a stain on his shirt confronts my colleague.)

Customer: “I demand that you reimburse me for this shirt!”

Colleague: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “I spilled ketchup on my shirt during the movie, and I demand that you reimburse me! The shirt is ruined! I tried washing it off, but none of the taps in your bathrooms work!”

(He goes off into an profanity-laced rant, and my colleague is letting it get to her. I interrupt his tirade.)

Me: “Excuse me, sir. Maybe you could show me the taps?”

(We walk off to the restroom, which has about 15 taps in a row.)

Me: “So, none of these are working?”

Customer: “Yeah, there’s no running water in here. You people make me sick!”

(The faucets are operated by a photocell, so I try one out and, of course, it works perfectly.)

Me: “You see these red things on the taps, sir? Just put your hand in front of them and water will come out.”

(I proceeded to do this with all fifteen taps while the customer just stood there with his mouth open. He muttered something under his breath, exited the restroom, and RAN though the main hall and out the door. I normally don’t like to humiliate people who are having a dumb moment, but he was being a real a**hole to my colleague.)

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