I’d Like To Order Some Camel Back, And Some Straw To Break It

, , , , , | Working | March 25, 2019

(My family loves the food from a local Chinese place that delivers, although their customer service leaves something to be desired. Once they accidentally double-charged my credit card and refused a refund, only offering a credit to our account. That left a sour taste in my mouth, but since I have the credit, I decide to order again.)

Operator: “Okay, and your card number for the purchase?”

Me: “I should have a credit on my account from last time. Can you look?”

(After about a five-minute wait, they get back on the line.)

Operator: “Okay, it will be there in forty-five minutes.” *hangs up*

(An hour passes so I call to check on the order.)

Me: “Yes, I am just checking on the status of a delivery? It’s been about an hour since I called in.”

Operator: “Hold, please.”

(Another five minutes pass.)

Operator: “Yeah, it’s on its way.”

Me: “But I didn’t tell you my na—“ *clicks*

(Another thirty minutes passes, so I call to tell them never mind.)

Me: “Yes, it’s been an hour and a half, so I’d like to cancel my delivery.”

Operator: “Okay, what’s your name?”

(I tell them.)

Operator: “Hmm, I don’t see any orders placed under your name tonight.”

Me: *laughs incredulously* “Okay, why am I not surprised.”

Operator: “Do you want to place an order?”

Me: “No. No, I don’t. Goodbye.”

(It’s been a few months, and I think this was the straw that broke the camel’s back.)

Someone Had Their Cheer-ios This Morning

, , , , , | Working | March 24, 2019

One day at work in our small office, the intercom beeped, as it usually does before our receptionist announces who a call is for and what line. However, this time, I didn’t hear our receptionist. Instead, my phone started squealing and beeping!

I started to giggle at the technological difficulties, and then one of my coworkers said something funny from his office, and I burst out laughing. All of a sudden, my boss appeared in my office, and simply pointed at my phone. Somehow, I had accidentally bumped a button and paged the entire office, so everyone heard me giggling and laughing over the intercom!

When The NAR Reader Becomes The NAR Customer

, , , | Right Working | March 24, 2019

(I’m the customer in this one. This site has made me paranoid. I’m at a donut shop, getting a coffee and a donut. The clerk goes to the display and grabs a donut that’s very similar to the one I ordered.)

Clerk: “Is this one you ordered?”

(It’s close enough, and I don’t want to raise a fuss.)

Me: “Yeah, fine. Whatever.”

(The manager decides to step in.)

Manager: “Hold on a minute, [Clerk]. We’ve been getting a lot of complaints lately because you keep getting [donut I ordered] confused with [donut she grabbed]. Are you sure that’s what he ordered?”

Clerk: “Yes, I am. I even checked with him.” *turns to me* “You ordered [donut she grabbed], right?”

Me: “Umm… actually, I ordered [donut I ordered].”

Clerk: “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Me: “I didn’t want to look like one of those idiot customers you read about on the Internet.”

Not Using All Their Brain Meats

, , , , , , | Working | March 23, 2019

(There is a grocery store in town that does not allow customers to use their own bags. They also bag badly. I’ve come out of there with 12 items in 16 bags in the past. Today I bought about half a basket of stuff and sighed as the cashier bagged so many things one to a bag despite my protests.)

Me: “Wait. Please put both packages of meat in the same bag. This is getting ridiculous.”

Cashier: “We don’t bag two kinds of meat together. Cross contamination.”

Me: “They aren’t two kinds of meat. They are both beef.”

Cashier: “One is hamburger. One is roast.”

Me: “Yes. One is ground beef and the other is a chunk of beef.”

Cashier: “We don’t bag two kinds of meat together. Cross contamination.”

Me: “They are not two different kinds of meat. One is labeled ground chuck and the other is labeled chuck roast. They are both beef. They both come from cows.”

Cashier: “No, they don’t.”

Me: *totally surprised* “What? Of course they do. They are two cuts of beef, and beef is cow meat.”

Cashier: “Cows are for dairy.”

Me: “Cattle. Cows. Steers. Beef. Please just bag the meat together.”

Cashier: “We don’t bag two kinds of meat together. Cross contamination.”

Me: “Both kinds of meat came off the same animal.”

Cashier: “No, they don’t. We don’t bag two kinds of meat together. Cross contamination.”

(I just stared at her in amazement. I’m not from here. My accent makes that clear. But she spoke with a very local accent. I live two miles out of town and five miles from this store. I had to pass three huge herds of cattle to get there. How could anyone from this area not know where beef/chuck/hamburger/roast comes from?)

I’ll Make You Sorry You Asked

, , , , | Working | March 22, 2019

(My boss at this time is a very arrogant individual; he is very full of himself and likes to pretend that the world snaps to attention and answers his every whim. Another thing to note is that all of the supervisors and quality staff are required to have a radio, and we are not allowed to turn them off while on the clock.)

Boss: “[My Name], this is [Boss].”

Me: “Go for [My Name].”

Boss: “Where are you right now?”

(Not wanting to give the whole plant a mental picture they can’t unsee…)

Me: “Indisposed. I can meet in five minutes; just tell me where.”

Boss: “But where are you right now?”

Me: “Not currently available.”

Boss: *furious and demanding* “[My Name], tell me where you are, and what you are doing, right now.”

(Okay, Boss, you asked for it…)

Me: “I am currently in the fourth stall from the door in the east bathroom, sitting on the toilet and feeling much better.”

(There is a long pause on the other end of the line. I am well aware that everyone with a radio has heard our conversation.)

Boss: *much more quietly* “When you are finished, please see me in my office.”

Me: “Of course. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

(I don’t remember what was so important, but it wasn’t anything that couldn’t have waited five minutes. But he never pressed me over the radio again.)

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