Let's face it: if your job involves dealing with members of the public, you will encounter some real idiots.
I worked in a charity shop once. One customer came to the till with a vase that clearly had a £30 pricetag. But she said 'Won't you sell it for less? I mean, sometimes charity shops do that; drop the price.'
I said, 'I'm sorry, that item only got put on the shelf today, so I'm not allowed to lower it.' I showed her the tag and explained that the number 54 meant it was new to the shop floor. We back-and-forthed it for a few minutes before I asked her to either buy the thing for £30 or move on, because I had six customers to deal with and that queue was only getting longer.
More recently, I worked for the Citizens Advice Bureau (if you don't know what that is, it's a charity that provides free, confidential advice to anyone). Anyway, I was doing their client satisfaction survey. I'd call someone up and say:
'Good morning, am I speaking to Mr Sanderson?'
If it was Mr Sanderson, everything went swimmingly. If not, I had to answer evasively because the service is supposed to be confidential. Normally this meant saying 'My name is Jacob. I'm undertaking a customer satisfaction survey for a service they used.' But sometimes that wasn't enough. Some would ask which service. That was the time to dig in, refuse to budge, and either be hung up on or passed on. But one guy didn't do either of those. He kept demanding to know who I was.
All that time, I was flicking through the database looking for something I could use. And then, bingo: 'Client's son cannot read or write.'
Fuck yeah! We exchanged fire some more, while I worked out how to use that little piece of imformation. And then: 'I'm sorry, sir, I am not permitted to disclose the details of my organisation to anyone excepting my client. I am obligated to adhere to the directives dictated by my employer and can only offer sincerest apologies for any umbrage caused.'
...
He hung up. I'd be lying if I said my first thought was anything other than: Holy frickin' shit! I cannot believe that worked! That guy must be so fucking stupid!
One more from the CAB: I always read the phone number a few times to make sure I got the right person, but this one time...
'Hello, is this Mr Sanderson?' I said.
'Yes, it is,' he replied.
'I'm calling from the Citizens Advice Bureau. If you've got a few minutes-' He cut me off.
'I haven't been to no Citizens Advice Bureau,' he said. If I hadn't been looking at his name on the database, I might have believed him. As it was, I was, but I let him go, even if I was thinking, 'Oh, really, Mr Sanderson? Then how in holy fuck am I looking at "Gregory Phillip Sanderson" on the CAB's database?' No, it wasn't the wrong number. What are the chances of another Mr Sanderson being on the number that happened to be attached to the Mr Sanderson that came into the CAB? And no, he can't have forgotten, because the database said he had had an appointment two weeks ago and had another lined up for the week after.
So, what about you?
By the way, the name Gregory Phillip Sanderson is a product of my imagination - just thought I should clarify that.
I worked in a charity shop once. One customer came to the till with a vase that clearly had a £30 pricetag. But she said 'Won't you sell it for less? I mean, sometimes charity shops do that; drop the price.'
I said, 'I'm sorry, that item only got put on the shelf today, so I'm not allowed to lower it.' I showed her the tag and explained that the number 54 meant it was new to the shop floor. We back-and-forthed it for a few minutes before I asked her to either buy the thing for £30 or move on, because I had six customers to deal with and that queue was only getting longer.
More recently, I worked for the Citizens Advice Bureau (if you don't know what that is, it's a charity that provides free, confidential advice to anyone). Anyway, I was doing their client satisfaction survey. I'd call someone up and say:
'Good morning, am I speaking to Mr Sanderson?'
If it was Mr Sanderson, everything went swimmingly. If not, I had to answer evasively because the service is supposed to be confidential. Normally this meant saying 'My name is Jacob. I'm undertaking a customer satisfaction survey for a service they used.' But sometimes that wasn't enough. Some would ask which service. That was the time to dig in, refuse to budge, and either be hung up on or passed on. But one guy didn't do either of those. He kept demanding to know who I was.
All that time, I was flicking through the database looking for something I could use. And then, bingo: 'Client's son cannot read or write.'
Fuck yeah! We exchanged fire some more, while I worked out how to use that little piece of imformation. And then: 'I'm sorry, sir, I am not permitted to disclose the details of my organisation to anyone excepting my client. I am obligated to adhere to the directives dictated by my employer and can only offer sincerest apologies for any umbrage caused.'
...
He hung up. I'd be lying if I said my first thought was anything other than: Holy frickin' shit! I cannot believe that worked! That guy must be so fucking stupid!
One more from the CAB: I always read the phone number a few times to make sure I got the right person, but this one time...
'Hello, is this Mr Sanderson?' I said.
'Yes, it is,' he replied.
'I'm calling from the Citizens Advice Bureau. If you've got a few minutes-' He cut me off.
'I haven't been to no Citizens Advice Bureau,' he said. If I hadn't been looking at his name on the database, I might have believed him. As it was, I was, but I let him go, even if I was thinking, 'Oh, really, Mr Sanderson? Then how in holy fuck am I looking at "Gregory Phillip Sanderson" on the CAB's database?' No, it wasn't the wrong number. What are the chances of another Mr Sanderson being on the number that happened to be attached to the Mr Sanderson that came into the CAB? And no, he can't have forgotten, because the database said he had had an appointment two weeks ago and had another lined up for the week after.
So, what about you?
By the way, the name Gregory Phillip Sanderson is a product of my imagination - just thought I should clarify that.
