*smarter than I
OK, one dumb question and one hint regarding the woman in line at the KFC.
A friend of mine and her roomate went shopping today for a new stereo and microwave, along with a surge protector. They went ahead and hooked up the stereo, tv and vcr into the power strip. I received this joyous news minutes after the job was complete. I can only pray a few vodkas were downed before the call back.
She wondered if I could come over, there was a problem. A few months ago I programmed the vcr remote to also work the tv. Since they had to unplug the vcr to plug it in the strip, they needed me to come and re-program the remote.
Now the hint. For 3 years I drove a semi and saved the money to return to college. If you’ve never driven a truck, you have no idea the timits you’re under to get the freight to its destination. ANY stop is lost time. Now to qualify this, I should say that 90% of the time it happened on the tollway between Chicago and Philly, but usually in Ohio.
During the summer, when pulling into a service plaza, I’d run in for some fast food. Fast, HAH! These idiots on vacation would stand in line for up to 15 minutes at times. What happens? You guessed it. As soon as they get to the cashier, they happen to notice the menu. This is when they decide on what they want to eat!! And this, after at least 12 families before them did the same thing! Now I ask you, thinking of all the different chains, don’t you at least have an inkling what you might want BEFORE you even go in? And don’t get me started on the assholes with 6 kids that insist on reading every goddamn item to them in a slow voice so that their precious demons can enjoy the full Wendy’s experience. Somehow they think Hardee’s is different there then in their own hometowns. Had I the patience to wait for their fat asses to finish eating and followed their car, the highway fatality rate probably would have doubled.
OK, now I need an aspirin.
First post so bear with me on this, but I had to share my fvorite dumbass question story.
Sometime mid 1970’s I think. Evening News. Story is a planeload of people taken by PLO and landed in Beruit or someplace similar. Couple of the hostages sitting at a table surrounded by guys with submachine guns, gernades, black hoods etc. Gaggle of reporters across the room with cameras, microphones, notepads, and nice hair. One reporter holds out a microphone and asks “How have you been treated?” Hostage sits there for a moment looking less than totally comfortable and says “We have been treated well.” Reporter gets very smug look on his face and says “Thats what you say now, but what are you going to say after you are released?”
Hostage slowly looks to his left into the barrel of an AK-47 pointed right at his temple. Looks straight back at the reporter and says “I’m going to say I was treated well.”
I love American journalism.
And I understand your pain Kyla! Now I know the whole concept of being service-oriented and I actually do enjoy helping people. But I’ve learnt that you sometimes need the patience of Job to deal with some of them.
A few classic examples from my bookstore days:
“Where’s the fiction section?”
- Well, step onto this platform. Stamp on it hard three times till it starts lowering itself. At the third level, make a jump through to the tunnel entrance. Follow the trail till you come to a door that says ‘Beware of the Gatekeeper’. Say today’s password - ‘Jane Austen wears fishnet stockings’. And you’re there! Oh no, I was only kidding it’s really right by that large sign that says FICTION. That’s what large signs are made for. Oh, what’s that you say? Oh you can’t read…
“Do I get a discount?”
- Aside from the fact that you don’t have a discount card, you don’t work here or that your one purchase will set you back five dollars…WHAT DO YOU THINK?
“Could you call up That Big Bookstore and reserve that book for me over there since you don’t have it here?”
- Granted, we will go through hell for our customers to get the books they want, we do draw the line at That Big Bookstore.
“I’m not sure if this is the book I want. If it’s not, may I return it?”
- Well, why don’t you take a bit of time to find out if it is? It will save you the trouble of coming back here - Oh sure, go ahead, use our phone, you can then tie up our line and we won’t have to answer any other dumb queries in the meantime.
Oy, indeed.
I work at a call center at a credit card company and I hear this way too often:
Hardygrrl:Thank you for calling *$%^ @&!,hardygrrl speaking,can I have your account number please?
Moron we gave an account to: My phone number?
alternate version: Is that on my credit card?
My personal favorite is when the idiot actually starts punching in the number on the phone keypad-that’s when somehow they get disconnected-must be a system glitch…hehehe.
My brother is such a moron, let me give an example:
Once we were talking to our dad about tornados, he was telling us how back when he lived in the mid-West he had been in a few. My brother, in all seriousness, asked my dad, “Did you die?”
He still didn’t realize the stupidity of that question when everyone else was rolling on the floor laughing.
The Lurker
Let’s not forget all the stupid idiots who’re SUPPOSED TO KNOW THE ANSWER TO YOUR NOT SO STUPID QUESTION!!! Last weekend, I decided I’d do some modifications to my PC and that when I was done, I’d run the quickrestore disks that came with it because of some software conflicts that had been left by a program that I’d uninstalled. Now, I knew this was risky because at the advice of one of the “Technical Support People” I’d ran the quickrestore disk, only to discover that my PC didn’t work afterwards. Spent 3 days on the phone with them and only got the thing running after I found ONE guy who actually believed that I KNEW what I was talking about and told me what to do, using the quickrestore patch CD that Compaq sent me. But, I figured, hey, this time I know what I’m doing and I’ve got the patch CD, what could possibly go wrong? Everything! Ran the quickrestore, modem didn’t work, and the system would shut itself off if left idle for too long. No problem, pop in the patch CD and install the patches. Still no modem. Oh God, now I have to call those idiots in technical support.
Spend three more days on the phone with technical support.
First call:
I explain my problem, guy says run the quickrestore CD again and push two buttons on the keyboard while doing so.
Doesn’t work. Call back.
Explain problem, asked, “Do you have any florescent lights in your house?”
Huh? What does THAT have to do with anything? The damn modem WORKED UNTIL I RAN YOUR DISK!!! YOUR DISK SCREWED MY PC, NOW HOW DO I UNSCREW MY PC??? “If you’re not running an RF shield on your phone line, florescent lights will prevent you from using your modem.” Even when they’re OFF?? “Yes, I’ll send you an RF shield at no charge. That should fix your problem.”
Not waiting for the RF shield to arrive, I call back, knowing that the exists and being constantly told while I’m on hold by their automated message system that if I have any problems I don’t want to wait for a technical service rep, I can simply go to their website and get anything I need. Assuming, of course, my modem works, which it DOESN’T thanks to you guys!
This guy takes me through some screens, etc., etc. and we seem to be getting somewhere. Finally he says, “Uh, look, your problem is way over my head and you’ll have to call back tomorrow and talk to a level two tech.” Hey, at least he’s honest.
Call back for the level two tech.
TSR: “Hello, this is Felicia, may I help you?”
Me: Yes, I was told to call back today so that I could talk to a level two tech to fix the problem with my computer.
TSR: Well, I’ll try to help you if I can.
I explain the problem.
TSR: You need the Quickrestore Patch CD, I’ll send one out to you.
Me: I already have it. I need the number of the patch to get my modem working.
TSR: Have you already run the disk?
Me: Yes, and it didn’t work.
TSR: Well, then your modem must be broken. I’ll send you a new one.
End result: I called a buddy, he dialed up there website, found the patch # I needed, gave it to me, and I had my modem working in two minutes. Two days later the replacement modem arrived from Compaq. I suppose I could be honest and send the damn thing back to them, but after all the frustration I went through, I don’t think so.
I may be biased in this, since it’s one of the only jobs I’ve ever held, but it seems to me that being in a restaurant somehow entitles you to some of the dumber questions out there…
For instance, I was a host in the 99 Restaurant (local chain up in New England) for about 4 years. And being in New England, we saw our fair share of rough storms (and yet people would still panic at the idea of 5 inches of snow). So quite often I’d be sitting at work on a night with some snow or whatever, and people would come in, and tell us the roads are horrible. The snow makes visibility near nonexistant, and above it all, it’s freezing out. Then when they find out it’s a wait, their FIRST question is, “What is anyone doing out in this weather.”
I was SO tempted to ask one of them the same thing in all the time I worked there. Makes me feel like an idiot for never doing it…
Other hypothetical conversations I wish I had!:
Customer - Yea is there a wait?
Me - Yessir, would you like-
Customer - How long?
Me - Well that depends on how many people you have, and your preference of smoking or non-smoking.
Customer - Rough estimate of how long it’s going to be?
Me - Sir, there are three names ahead of you. As soon as they get seated, you’ll be up next.
Customer, now looking around to see that the place is packed - Oh. So how long do you think.
Me - When four tables have cleared, your good to go!
Customer - Well can’t you hurry it up?
Now the funny thing is, that this person is truly in the belief that I should hurry other customers up and get them out of their tables. Nevermind that I am the HOST and not even a waiter. I control nothing at the tables. Now what do you think this same jerk would do if HE was the person at the table and I told him to hurry up to make way for other customers?
It’s been my time in the service industry that has given me infinite fucking patience for people.
WT
Outside the truck stop where I work there is a large sign that says Texaco. The Texaco star is emblazoned on every gas pump. In front of the registers are applications for Texaco credit cards. And what question do I get asked at least once a week?
“Do you take Texaco cards here?”
Just once I want to answer, “No, sir, in actuality we’re a Citgo station travelling incognito.” :rolleyes:
“What do you mean food isn’t allowed in the library?”
Patron: “Can I check this book out?”
Me: “Well, are you a student or employee of [name of university I work for].”
Patron: “Uh, no.” (Sometimes followed by “My father/mother/sibling/greatuncle on my stepfather’s side was,” to which I reply mentally “And that means WHAT to me?!?!”)
Patron: “How come you close early on Fridays?”
Me: “Because we’re in the middle of summer break.”
“Do you sell law books?” (Immediately followed by my giving them the phone number and directions to the campus book store.)
“Can I stay in the building after it closes so I can study?”
Then there are those who demand to know why they can’t have the texts that don’t circulate to anyone.
And outside of the library, I attended a campus-sponsored dinner etiquette training class and one of the undergrads raised his hand and asked the woman running the show if it was “proper to thank the wait-staff?” She delicately pointed out that one should, especially if they’ve gone out of their way to get you anything special. I’m just wondering what kind of moron thinks people who serve him are not worthy of common courtesy.
Some Patrons Need a Brain Transplant,
Patty
This one is a beauty - comes from one of my mom’s friends.
The friend was new to a neighborhood and saw a shop that had a big “Adult Books” sign out front. THe friend went in and asked if they had any Bibles in stock to sell her.
You see, she thought “Adult Books” meant “We Don’t Carry Children’s Literature.”
Patty
I live in Michigan. Before kids, I was a travel agent.
We use to get alot of geographically impaired morons calling us.
The setup: I had just gotten back from a trip to London, Ontario, about 2 hours away from the Detroit Metro Area.
The Scene
Caller: I want to take a train to London.
Me: [perking up because I was just there, I mean, what are the odds?] You might be better off driving. Taking train is probably slower due to driving to the station and waiting, etc.
Caller: Really…I thought it was like 10 hours.
Me: ( light bulb going on) Wait,are you talking about London Ontario or London England?
Caller: Ummmmm. I didn’t know there were two.
Me: (knowing that not many people know there is a london Ontario) ARe you thinking of Big Ben, London ?
Caller: Yeah! That’s it…
Me: You can’t take the train to London, England.
Caller: Yes you can. I saw it in the news paper…London for <some ridiculously low amount> round trip.
Me:That’s to London, Ontario. To go to London England it’s any where from <gives lowest possible to highest possible, but not first class, whould want to cause palpatations.>
Caller: <rants that you can indeed take a train to London England and we go back and forth, me being very polite about it because frankly, I am in disbelief.>
Me: There is something called the Atlantic Ocean between the US and England, ever hear of it?
Caller: <advising me that she know she is right, blah blah blah>
Me: Ma’am, the farthest I can get you by train is Newfoundland…<letting it hang>
Caller: <taking the bait>Yeah?
Me: After that, you gotta swim.
My best friend at the above job was a very intelligent, funny, well dressed woman. Every now and then she would just go brain dead.I mean, a total mental white out. This is the only one I can remember,and she shared it with us. It happened between her and her retired RV driving dad.
Dad: We’ll be leaving for Florida in a couple of days with the RV. Do you know where we can sign up for a cell phone?
Friend: Why don’t you just take the cordless phone with you?
She said her dad just stared at her for at least a minute, to which she responded with, " What?"
No one in her family or at work ever let her live it down.
Years ago, while working at Circuit City selling Commodore 64 computers, I got my favorite dumb computer question.
A fellow had just finished playing a game which came on floppy disk. He had successfully gotten the program from the disk into memory. Now he wanted to know how to get it back onto the disk.
Granted, in later years, I have encountered games which erase your character after loading so that you can’t restore your position by turning the machine off, but this was before that little trick appeared.
I also spent several years in the Pizza business. Do you remember the joke about the waitress who asks the customer how he would like his pizza sliced? He says ,“six slices, because I don’t think I can eat eight.” Very old joke. I would have thought that everyone would have heard it.
I’ll never cease to be amazed, though how many people when decicing which size pizza to buy will ask “How many slices on a Large pizza?” You want to say something like, “Well, if we put it in the cheese grater we could cut it into hundreds, probably.”
I have a pizza story to tell. I used to work at a Domino’s in Berkeley. I got a call from a customer who wanted to get a pizza delivered to an address on Bancroft Ave. When I asked for a cross street, I realized that he wasn’t in Berkeley, but San Leandro (about a half hour drive on the freeway). Here’s the stupid part: when I explained this and gave him the number of his local Domino’s, he asked me why we couldn’t deliver to him anyway.
We got at least one call a night from customers complaining that they had been waiting for an hour and their pizza still hadn’t arrived. When we checked the computer logs and saw that they had only been waiting 20 minutes or whatever, they often still argued about it.
One guy claimed that “the fat driver” ate some of his pizza before delivering it.
We often got people asking for fancy ingredients like sun-dried tomatoes, zucchini, artichoke hearts, feta cheese, etc. At Domino’s. Right.
I think Bill Engval says it best…
“Here’s your sign”
Virtually every time I go to a fast food joint, I’ll order like this: “cheeseburger, fries and a large Diet Coke to go.” Invariable answer: “Will that be here, or to go?”
While we’re discussing fast food, how does KFC run out of chicken? Seems to me that if the pile under the heat lamp is running low, you put some more into the cooker, not wait until the pile is exhausted and people are asking for the vanished chix.
This is partially my fault for not paying closer attention, but really: the other day, about noon, I went into a local chain drug store. This is a major chain in a mid-city location. Realizing that I hadn’t read the local paper yet, I picked up a copy from the stack next to the register, and handed it to the cashier, who dutifully rang it up. Not until I got home and started reading what seemed to be very familiar stories did I realize that they’d sold me yesterday’s paper. Although, to be fair, this paper often runs what seem to be very familiar stories.
And don’t get me started about Compaq’s customer service…worth another thread.
a friend worked in the local supermarket:
Customer (standing in an aisle surrounded by bread, and bread derivatives of all types): “Where’s the bread?”
Friend (realising exactly what he could get away with): “Sorry, we don’t sell bread.”
Customer: “Oh.”
And when I worked in desktop support, we naturally had a few crackers. The contract we had was supporting the local council, covering everything from social services to housing. One day we got a call that was marked seriously urgent - there was a gas leak in a council house, and the housing officer had to get a repair man there right away. Realising the urgency of the situation we swung into action; what was her computer problem?
Seems that to send a repair guy out she had to print him a ticket with the address details etc on it. Her printer was down so no ticket. No ticket, no repair! Gas Leak!
Err, why not copy down what’s on screen and give him that, until we could get out andd repair the printer. Doh!
Also there was the phone call: “Hi. Can you tell me your phone number please?”
“Umm. It’s the one you’ve just dialled!”
“No. It’s not for me, it’s for a friend.”
Eh?
I totally agree with the idea to force some kind of national service forcing everyone to work in customer service for at least a month…
I used to work for a moving company and usually we would leave one phone out until the last minute (if the service wasn’t already turned off). I was packing a room and pointed to the base unit for a cordless phone.
Me: Do you want to leave this phone until the last minute?
Customer (holds up cordless handset): This is charged up, so you can pack that part.
Me (pause, holy shit she’s not kidding): Ummm, How about I just leave it?
My wife worked for Starb*cks for a few years in the middle of Chicago’s gold coast area. She would routinely have to answer the “do you sell coffee?” question, but my favorite story is:
A woman walks in to the store, she’s a typical denizen of the area…tall, blond, fur coat, gold, etc. She asks my wife, “what’s the coffee of the day?”
Wife: Kenyan (hands her sample drink)
Woman: (sips at coffee) I like this. Kenya is in Africa right?
Wife: (surprised when anyone she runs into knows geography, cheerfully replies) Yes it is.
Woman: (looks uncomfortable)
Wife: What’s wrong?
Woman: I don’t know if I should drink coffee from Africa.
Wife: Huh?
Woman: I’m worried about…(voice drops to near whisper) AIDS.
Wife: Huh?
Woman: (looks uncomfortable again, like maybe she wants to wash out mouth)
Wife: (having recovered her wits) I don’t think you have to worry about it. Assuming that the beans WERE somehow infected, after being picked, they are washed and then shipped several thousand miles from Africa to Seattle, where our roasting plants are located, The beans are then roasted at a temperature of several hundred degrees. The virus probably could not survive the trip. If it did, it most certainly could not survive the roasting.
Woman: (still uncomfortable) Well…just the same, I don’t think I’ll have it. (Woman leaves).
[end]
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Absimia