You Don’t Need That Actually Needs That

| Right | July 6, 2017

Me: “Thank you for calling [Pizza Place]. My name is [My Name]. Would you like to try an order of wings with your pizza today?”

Customer: “Yeah, I want…” *customer proceeds to rattle off their order, which I have no way to process yet because our system requires info before it lets us take the order*

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am, but I need your information first.”

Customer: “No, you don’t.”

Me: “Actually, I do. Can I get your phone number?”

Customer: “You don’t need that.”

Me: “We need it so we can verify the order, and call you if we need to.”

(After several back and forths, the customer grudgingly gives me the number.)

Me: “All right, is this for carryout or delivery.”

Customer: “Why do you need to know that?”

Me: “Well, we need to know whether we’ll be sending it out to you, or if you’ll be coming in to pick it up.”

Customer: “Oh. Delivery. All right, so I want—”

Me: “I’m sorry; can I get your address first?”

Customer: “Why do you need that?”

Me: “You wanted it delivered right?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Well, then I need to know where you live.”

Customer: “I live on [Street], in the [describes house].”

Me: “No, ma’am, I need the actual street address.”

Customer: “No, you don’t. Just bring it to the [color] house.”

Me: “I’m sorry; I can’t send one of my drivers out to an arbitrary address. I need to know the street address, including the house number.”

(After roughly five minutes of back and forth on this, I finally get it out of her, then:)

Customer: “What are your specials?”

Me: *rattles off our specials*

Customer: “And what are your toppings?”

Me: *rattles off each of our toppings*

Customer: “All right, I want a three-topping pizza.”

(Long pause.)

Me: “…”

Customer: “How much will that be?”

Me: “What would you like on your pizza?”

Customer: *exasperated* “I told you that already.”

Me: *attempting to keep my cool* “I’m sorry, ma’am, could you repeat it for me?”

Customer: *in the most patronizing voice ever* “I want onions, beef, and pepperoni.”

Me: “All right, thank you.” *not wanting to keep her on the line but having to upsell anyway* “Would you like any drinks or wings?”

Customer: “Why the h*** would I want those things? I just want my pizza!”

Me: “And will that be cash or credit?”

Customer: “Credit.”

Me: “All right, and whenever you’re ready with the credit card number?”

Customer: “You don’t need that.”

Me: *resisting urge to bang head on desk* “If you’re not comfortable with giving me your credit information, would you like to pay with cash instead, or do carry out so you can do the card in-store?”

Customer: “No, I want to do credit.”

(Another few minutes of back and forth, and I finally get the info out of her and complete the order.)

Me: “All right, ma’am, have a nice da—” *click*

(I immediately slammed my face onto the front counter, and my mother, who had been standing nearby, burst out laughing. I was on that call for 45 minutes.)

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