The Customer Is Always Wrong
- Thread starter Xhumed
- Start date
This kid had to be about three or four. Where his parents were, I have no idea.Cyclomega post=18.70218.684989 said:
the worst age group to serve at any job is 10-18... If had to chase kids out who think its ok to ride bikes in my store. the worst part is when parents teach'em to steal. Ive had parents ask for cups of water and go and get soda for their kids. The smart ones will atleast get sprite... the dumb ones get orange soda or coke... its impossible to miss that. Teenage graffiti artists think they are cool cause they can write their name on ceramic tile with a sharpie.... they have yet to realize its damn near impossible to stain tiles... you can get the grout inbetween.. but i can wipe off tiles with water and a sponge.
P.S. Not sure if they have these in other countries but the shoes with the one skate wheel in the heel. I Hate those with a passion. Kids dont understand that putting all their weight on on one heel on a hard plastic wheel can lead to broken tiles. And parents dont care! If had to kick parents out cause they couldnt keep the brats under control.
*edit* i also had four guys come through one night in drive thru, pulled right up to the window with out placing an order. They handed me a note that said "we cant hear/ completely deaf, we would like XXXXXXX and XXXXXx" Normally thats ok... but i wrote something on their note and handed it back. They started laughing and drove off. My reply: "then why is your radio so loud?"
P.S. Not sure if they have these in other countries but the shoes with the one skate wheel in the heel. I Hate those with a passion. Kids dont understand that putting all their weight on on one heel on a hard plastic wheel can lead to broken tiles. And parents dont care! If had to kick parents out cause they couldnt keep the brats under control.
*edit* i also had four guys come through one night in drive thru, pulled right up to the window with out placing an order. They handed me a note that said "we cant hear/ completely deaf, we would like XXXXXXX and XXXXXx" Normally thats ok... but i wrote something on their note and handed it back. They started laughing and drove off. My reply: "then why is your radio so loud?"
I know a lot of people like that, constantly stealing and thinking they're cool. Really hate the pricks when they steal and spend the next week bragging about it.RAKtheUndead post=18.70218.684982 said:
I'd put up a sign "If i catch you stealing you will never walk again" (don't follow through though, that'd be wrong).
New place to stay when the zombies come.Decoy Doctorpus post=18.70218.685000 said:
Disclaimer: No don't start a zombie thread. I am both aware that they are loud and spray blood and are not ideal to kill zombies with.
Hi,
Long time reader, first time poster.
I worked for the Health Service in the UK for 3 years, in the HR department. One of my jobs was to write to people informing them of their grade and pay changes. I was provided with an Excel spreadsheet showing me First Name, Last Name, Address, Old Pay, New Pay.
So I would put all this information into the standard letter, but it required a Title field (Mr, Mrs, Ms, Miss, Dr etc). Which I wasn't given, so I would do my best to add what I could from the names.
So one afternoon I get a call from a woman who is very polite, and informs me that I have put Ms on her letter. I ask for her name, which is Tracy. I apologise (thinking is this really the kind of thing people complain about in the real world) and ask if she would like me to change it to Miss on the letter and resend it?
She instantly turns from a rather pleasant woman to the customer from hell, and YELLS at me down the phone:
"NO!!!! I AM A F***ING MAN!! ITS MR!!!!!!"
Woah! For a start this is the most feminine man I have ever heard, and second, their name is Tracey (a very common womans name in the UK). How the hell am I supposed to know what they look like?!
So, I apologise, alot, and offer to resend the letter. To which he/she/it replies "I WILL GET YOU FIRED FOR THIS!!!" and sure enough I get a letter of complaint, which is instantly binned.
Way to overreact! Still, I hang up, laugh, and forget all about it.
However... fast forward 6 months, I had left the Health Service, and was sat in front of the TV one Saturday evening flicking through. "Britains Got Talent" is on (our version of American Idol type thing), and is normally good for mindlessly staring at, so stare I do. When who should crop up next, but "Tracey, from the Health Service". OMG! From my town, my service, MY TRACEY!!!
A BIG fat bald guy, with a high pitch voice. I start laughing at how I thought this fella was a woman and how annoyed he got for me thinking he was one.. until... he suddenly pops on a wig, climbs into a dress, and does a Shirley Bassey impression, live on British TV, and reveals in his spare time he is Drag Queen!!!
And he had the CHEEK to threaten to FIRE me, over me thinking he was a woman!!!!!
Thankfully, he lost on the show.
Long time reader, first time poster.
I worked for the Health Service in the UK for 3 years, in the HR department. One of my jobs was to write to people informing them of their grade and pay changes. I was provided with an Excel spreadsheet showing me First Name, Last Name, Address, Old Pay, New Pay.
So I would put all this information into the standard letter, but it required a Title field (Mr, Mrs, Ms, Miss, Dr etc). Which I wasn't given, so I would do my best to add what I could from the names.
So one afternoon I get a call from a woman who is very polite, and informs me that I have put Ms on her letter. I ask for her name, which is Tracy. I apologise (thinking is this really the kind of thing people complain about in the real world) and ask if she would like me to change it to Miss on the letter and resend it?
She instantly turns from a rather pleasant woman to the customer from hell, and YELLS at me down the phone:
"NO!!!! I AM A F***ING MAN!! ITS MR!!!!!!"
Woah! For a start this is the most feminine man I have ever heard, and second, their name is Tracey (a very common womans name in the UK). How the hell am I supposed to know what they look like?!
So, I apologise, alot, and offer to resend the letter. To which he/she/it replies "I WILL GET YOU FIRED FOR THIS!!!" and sure enough I get a letter of complaint, which is instantly binned.
Way to overreact! Still, I hang up, laugh, and forget all about it.
However... fast forward 6 months, I had left the Health Service, and was sat in front of the TV one Saturday evening flicking through. "Britains Got Talent" is on (our version of American Idol type thing), and is normally good for mindlessly staring at, so stare I do. When who should crop up next, but "Tracey, from the Health Service". OMG! From my town, my service, MY TRACEY!!!
A BIG fat bald guy, with a high pitch voice. I start laughing at how I thought this fella was a woman and how annoyed he got for me thinking he was one.. until... he suddenly pops on a wig, climbs into a dress, and does a Shirley Bassey impression, live on British TV, and reveals in his spare time he is Drag Queen!!!
And he had the CHEEK to threaten to FIRE me, over me thinking he was a woman!!!!!
Thankfully, he lost on the show.
LOVE THIS THREAD!
I am unlucky enough to work on the checkouts of a supermarket.
and to make a boring job more frustrating half the tills have broken 'chip and pin' machines.... so 'im sorry, but i have to ask you to sign here please'..... no its not my falt, so dont have a go at me for the machines being broken.
Ah yes. Because of someone at the store selling alcohol to some underage customer before id been employed there, we BY LAW had to ask EVERY CUSTOMER BUYING ALCOHOL if they are 'over 21' 'are you over 21?' an if they looked younger than 30 we had to ask for ID.
So we basically ensured that all customers in their 50's to 80's thought that we were all monumentaly thick and couldnt actually tell if you were 18 or 80. ( 18 being the drinking age in england).
and we had to refuse to sell them the alcohol if they rufused to say that they were or didnt have/show ID if needed.
1 in 10 ladies in their 40's-50's actually took it as a compliment that we must aparently think that they looked that young.(sigh). which was better than being yelled at for having such a ridiculous policy that really really wasnt my fault.
- some others, 1 in 50 could see, (or we told them) that we where being screwed by some new company policy forced upon us.
-luckily that stopped after 3 months as some retart took it to the papers saying that the girl that served him could tell if he was over the age of 18.
the joy, oh and of course customers damning you to hell as they cant find the exact item they want fast enough, or a milk container is leeking and they put it in my lap and tell me to magically sort out the mess,(while im not even allowed to leave my till)- i have to ring the bell for my manager, while 'possibly bad' milk is all over me and will make me and my uniform smell like sour milk for the rest of the day. ugh.
And at least a dozen times a day i get asked where/ if ther is a toilet.(the toilets are at the front of the store as you come in with a bid blue sign over them) (luckily there are toilets or there'd be more complaints.
I dont care and cant do anything to change it if another supermarket 'does x better' has item x cheaper' or whatever so dont bother telling me.
Oh and couples that decide to have a full blown martial(sp)'debate' argument in front of my till. cant they just take it outside where they'd actually be able to hear each other clearly and wont stress me out by a. asking my opinion on their other half's aparent faults (how should i know) b.shouting at me or being rude to me just cause theyv had a bad day/is angry.
I am unlucky enough to work on the checkouts of a supermarket.
and to make a boring job more frustrating half the tills have broken 'chip and pin' machines.... so 'im sorry, but i have to ask you to sign here please'..... no its not my falt, so dont have a go at me for the machines being broken.
Ah yes. Because of someone at the store selling alcohol to some underage customer before id been employed there, we BY LAW had to ask EVERY CUSTOMER BUYING ALCOHOL if they are 'over 21' 'are you over 21?' an if they looked younger than 30 we had to ask for ID.
So we basically ensured that all customers in their 50's to 80's thought that we were all monumentaly thick and couldnt actually tell if you were 18 or 80. ( 18 being the drinking age in england).
and we had to refuse to sell them the alcohol if they rufused to say that they were or didnt have/show ID if needed.
1 in 10 ladies in their 40's-50's actually took it as a compliment that we must aparently think that they looked that young.(sigh). which was better than being yelled at for having such a ridiculous policy that really really wasnt my fault.
- some others, 1 in 50 could see, (or we told them) that we where being screwed by some new company policy forced upon us.
-luckily that stopped after 3 months as some retart took it to the papers saying that the girl that served him could tell if he was over the age of 18.
the joy, oh and of course customers damning you to hell as they cant find the exact item they want fast enough, or a milk container is leeking and they put it in my lap and tell me to magically sort out the mess,(while im not even allowed to leave my till)- i have to ring the bell for my manager, while 'possibly bad' milk is all over me and will make me and my uniform smell like sour milk for the rest of the day. ugh.
And at least a dozen times a day i get asked where/ if ther is a toilet.(the toilets are at the front of the store as you come in with a bid blue sign over them) (luckily there are toilets or there'd be more complaints.
I dont care and cant do anything to change it if another supermarket 'does x better' has item x cheaper' or whatever so dont bother telling me.
Oh and couples that decide to have a full blown martial(sp)'debate' argument in front of my till. cant they just take it outside where they'd actually be able to hear each other clearly and wont stress me out by a. asking my opinion on their other half's aparent faults (how should i know) b.shouting at me or being rude to me just cause theyv had a bad day/is angry.
Heh... spouse works in the medical care, oncology to be exact, and had this hillarious conversarion on the phone one day. Spouse had started the call by explaining that this was about a patient with prostate cancer. The person on the other of the line was filling in a standard form about the patient and was obviously a bit zoned out and going on autopilot, starting at the top of the form and asked spouse:trinkey post=18.70218.685038 said:
"Is it Mr or Mrs?"
"Say what? I just told you: it's a patient with prostate cancer."
"Yes, I heard. Mr or Mrs?"
Ok, so men can and do get breast cancer at times... but prostate cancer in a woman? Now that is a bit of a anatomical oddity, unless of course the person at the other end was concidering that transgender male-to-female persons may retain their prostate... but spouse suspects that wasnt the case here but simply someone who accidentally forgot to turn on the brain before taking the call.
/S
There's too many good ones here for me to even begin.
All I'll say is that I've had product thrown at me, sworn at, hit, a knife pulled on, ignorance, stupidity, blatant attempts to work the system, theft, and a few other things.
Now I work happily in a warehouse until I can afford to pay for flight school. Yippee.
All I'll say is that I've had product thrown at me, sworn at, hit, a knife pulled on, ignorance, stupidity, blatant attempts to work the system, theft, and a few other things.
Now I work happily in a warehouse until I can afford to pay for flight school. Yippee.
i was at the movies with my girlfriend and she decides she wants to order the tickets.. with me pay of course... anyway we get up there and she sayes can we have 2 student tickets please.. and the man goes "for what" and she looks at him like the man is an idiot and goes .. "uhhh for us?". and the man sayes "no, what movie" and i cant stop laughing... haha XD
No offence but who do you date!?!vamp rocks post=18.70218.685108 said:
Like...wow... "uhhh for us?"...lol/wtf.
Heh, I used to do a paper run, and I discovered how to tell a person's personality by their mail box.
Man, I meat some nasty pieces of work there.
Then my boss introduced a GPS tracking system, and I quit.
I'm so glad I did.
Man, I meat some nasty pieces of work there.
Then my boss introduced a GPS tracking system, and I quit.
I'm so glad I did.
Oh... have to relate one from my dad. While he's not a clerk, he most certainly has a job with services: the police. Anyway, he didn't personally live this, but he had the pictures to prove it.
His colleagues in the district were having a speed limit checkpoint at the highway. It's a 110 km/h motorway and they were useing the laser from a bridge, shooting people in the back so to speak. Suddenly, two power machines zoom by and the laser tags them in excess of 230 km/h. They place the call to the patrol car up ahead to try to do something about these lunatics before they hurt someone, or themslves.
As it happened though, they got off the road at the next overpass and this is where the patrol car found them. They found two guys and one. Dodge Viper, a car as you are all aware is in the 80 000 - 100 000 USD range. So where was the other car? Well... this is where the pretty pictures dad showed me come in. The guy had gotten "speed blind", and thus misjudged the speed, wiped out the car, and flew out in the bushes. The pictures showed the trail in the crass, into the bushed, and the other Viper, standing on its side in the middle of young birches and bushes... wrecked.
Fortunately the guys were allright (the police is always relieved when people make it out ok, no matter how caerless people have acted). So here came the fun part: ok guys... would you care to explain? If there is something any copper knows, it's that everyone has an explanation for anything. "I didn't do anything", "Wasn't me", "Was me but I had this really good reason", "It was all your(!) fault" (oh yes, I've seen that one myself).
And these guys were no different. Their story was that they had been assaulted, beaten and had gottem one of the cars hijacked! They were chasing it... and assailants had - of course - taken off on foot. "Right(!)" ...said dad's collagues. "...assaulted and beaten huh?" "Mm hm!" said the guys and stuck to their bullshit story. And the cops just smiled wider and wider.
Thing is, as a policeman there are certain procedures you must follow. And even when you know something is pure bullshit you have to stick to procedure. But... as it turns out in this case, their report on being assaulted and beaten triggered a special kind of procedure, one that the police officers more than happilly obliged with. After all, these guys reported a grave offence! Assault with intent of committing theft, that is inded a serious crime. So... we secure evidence! Off to the nearest medical station; the guys are told to strip down to have their injuries photographed and documented.
Of course they didn't have as much as a bruise, except possibly from the seatbelt that saved the driver of the wrecked Viper from getting wrapped around a tree. Had they just said they had gotten the car stolen, instead of saying they got beaten and robbed of the car, their bullshit turd of a story might have floated around a bit longer before getting flushed. But no dice... they got charged with gross reckless driving and the insurance company gave them the finger.
A fool and his money are easily parted...
Speaking of money, one day someone called dad at the office and tried to provoke him by saying he refuses to pay any taxes. Dad, surprised and instantly amused, answered the caller that maybe he had gotten the wrong number. Perhaps he would be better adviced to direct the call to their nextdoor neighbours, the tax-office? Oh no, it was the right number allright... just called to inform that he does indeed refuse to pay taxes. So you say. And? wondered dad. Well the taxes pay your salary! said the caller. Well, no, said dad. My salary comes from my employer, the police authorties, and they in turn get their money from the regional budget.
Going on for several minutes, the caller tried and tried to in any way elicit a response from dad, and just getting more and more frustrated as his brilliant plan just went into a fail-spin and eventually crashed flat. Eventually he just hung up and dad had an amusing story to tell.
/S
His colleagues in the district were having a speed limit checkpoint at the highway. It's a 110 km/h motorway and they were useing the laser from a bridge, shooting people in the back so to speak. Suddenly, two power machines zoom by and the laser tags them in excess of 230 km/h. They place the call to the patrol car up ahead to try to do something about these lunatics before they hurt someone, or themslves.
As it happened though, they got off the road at the next overpass and this is where the patrol car found them. They found two guys and one. Dodge Viper, a car as you are all aware is in the 80 000 - 100 000 USD range. So where was the other car? Well... this is where the pretty pictures dad showed me come in. The guy had gotten "speed blind", and thus misjudged the speed, wiped out the car, and flew out in the bushes. The pictures showed the trail in the crass, into the bushed, and the other Viper, standing on its side in the middle of young birches and bushes... wrecked.
Fortunately the guys were allright (the police is always relieved when people make it out ok, no matter how caerless people have acted). So here came the fun part: ok guys... would you care to explain? If there is something any copper knows, it's that everyone has an explanation for anything. "I didn't do anything", "Wasn't me", "Was me but I had this really good reason", "It was all your(!) fault" (oh yes, I've seen that one myself).
And these guys were no different. Their story was that they had been assaulted, beaten and had gottem one of the cars hijacked! They were chasing it... and assailants had - of course - taken off on foot. "Right(!)" ...said dad's collagues. "...assaulted and beaten huh?" "Mm hm!" said the guys and stuck to their bullshit story. And the cops just smiled wider and wider.
Thing is, as a policeman there are certain procedures you must follow. And even when you know something is pure bullshit you have to stick to procedure. But... as it turns out in this case, their report on being assaulted and beaten triggered a special kind of procedure, one that the police officers more than happilly obliged with. After all, these guys reported a grave offence! Assault with intent of committing theft, that is inded a serious crime. So... we secure evidence! Off to the nearest medical station; the guys are told to strip down to have their injuries photographed and documented.
Of course they didn't have as much as a bruise, except possibly from the seatbelt that saved the driver of the wrecked Viper from getting wrapped around a tree. Had they just said they had gotten the car stolen, instead of saying they got beaten and robbed of the car, their bullshit turd of a story might have floated around a bit longer before getting flushed. But no dice... they got charged with gross reckless driving and the insurance company gave them the finger.
A fool and his money are easily parted...
Speaking of money, one day someone called dad at the office and tried to provoke him by saying he refuses to pay any taxes. Dad, surprised and instantly amused, answered the caller that maybe he had gotten the wrong number. Perhaps he would be better adviced to direct the call to their nextdoor neighbours, the tax-office? Oh no, it was the right number allright... just called to inform that he does indeed refuse to pay taxes. So you say. And? wondered dad. Well the taxes pay your salary! said the caller. Well, no, said dad. My salary comes from my employer, the police authorties, and they in turn get their money from the regional budget.
Going on for several minutes, the caller tried and tried to in any way elicit a response from dad, and just getting more and more frustrated as his brilliant plan just went into a fail-spin and eventually crashed flat. Eventually he just hung up and dad had an amusing story to tell.
/S
What?! Was he heavily influenced by 1984 by any chance?Lord Krunk post=18.70218.685144 said:
I remember I used to help a mate with his paper run sometimes, and we'd do it on bin night, one paper to a letterbox, 4 to the recycling bin. It was a good system, albeit one that would have been ruined by GPS.
In the run up to christmas, our pub was incredibly busy- we were all pulling 6 day weeks, doing around 50 hours. A week before Christmas, a man comes into the pub, and asks Boris (my Latvian supervisor) if he has to book in on xmas day for lunch. Boris tells him that the kitchen won't be open on xmas day. Customer can't quite wrap his head around this concept. "so I just turn up on the day for food?" "No, we won't be serving food."
"Eh? Oh let me speak to someone who speaks English."
I step in, as Boris walks off in exasperation. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Oh good, someone who speaks English." (I think my eye might have twitched a little at that remark.) "I just wanted to ask about booking for xmas dinner here."
"Sir, we aren't serving food on xmas day, the kitchen will be closed."
"So I just turn up then and.."
"No sir, we won't be serving any food."
"So, can I come in then for food?"
"You can come in for a drink, but you won't get any food. The kitchen isn't open."
"So can I-"
"We are not. doing. food. on. christmas. day."
"Oh... Ok. Thats all I needed to know. Thank you."
He walks out of the pub. We all look at each other with "What the fuck?" expressions, whilst the regulars stood nearby are leaning on the bar to stay upright, they're laughing so hard.
"Eh? Oh let me speak to someone who speaks English."
I step in, as Boris walks off in exasperation. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Oh good, someone who speaks English." (I think my eye might have twitched a little at that remark.) "I just wanted to ask about booking for xmas dinner here."
"Sir, we aren't serving food on xmas day, the kitchen will be closed."
"So I just turn up then and.."
"No sir, we won't be serving any food."
"So, can I come in then for food?"
"You can come in for a drink, but you won't get any food. The kitchen isn't open."
"So can I-"
"We are not. doing. food. on. christmas. day."
"Oh... Ok. Thats all I needed to know. Thank you."
He walks out of the pub. We all look at each other with "What the fuck?" expressions, whilst the regulars stood nearby are leaning on the bar to stay upright, they're laughing so hard.