We Are All But Saplings, At The Mercy Of Bad GPS

, , , , | Right | September 4, 2019

(I deliver pizzas, and the system we use has a map feature that shows where a delivery is supposed to go and what the best route would be to get there. It also has a feature that suggests locations if an address is entered incorrectly. Late one night, a customer phones in and has a very soft, high-pitched voice that is very difficult to understand. My coworker tries her best to put in what she thinks she hears, but the system doesn’t recognize the address. As it’s my delivery, I call the customer back to try to get her address fixed.)

Me: “Hi, this is [Pizza Place]. Our system isn’t recognizing your address, so I’m calling to see if we can fix that.”

Customer: “Okay.” *to someone in the background* “What’s our address?”

(I hear an unintelligible background voice.)

Customer: “It’s 1234 [mumble] Drive.”

Me: *pause* “Could you spell that out for me?”

Customer: “I think it’s S-A-T-O-I-N-G.”

Me: *pause* “Okay… let me read that back. That’s S as in ‘sierra,’ A as in ‘apple,’ T as in ‘tango,’ O as in ‘octagon,’ I as in ‘igloo,’ N as in ‘November, G as in ‘grape.’”

Customer: “Yeah, that’s right.”

Me: *now thinking this might be a prank* “Okay… We’ll get that out as soon as we can.”

(I typed in the address she gave, and the first address the system suggested was 1234 Sapling Drive. Thankfully, that was the correct address, but I had to really bite my tongue when I arrived. Someone CLEARLY wasn’t paying attention.)

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