Stop screaming into the telephone "Hello? Hello?" It's getting on my nerves. I can hear you just fine! My telephone is not the issue here. I am literally screaming at you. The patrons in the lobby are looking at me like I have just relieved myself on the counter in front of them. Please get your telephone fixed. Don't call me and then tell me, "My cell is about to die," or, "My landline isn't working well." That is why you need to use a different one or even CHARGE your it.
See what I'm saying?
I barely make minimum wage. I haven't gotten a raise since the economy went to the dump. I'm lucky I haven't gotten canned. Please treat me at least subhuman. At least pretend I'm a little better than dog%^&*!
Thank you.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
Real Life Interaction
*Note: At my location, we no longer serve pork sausage, although the take-out menus do not reflect this. Our computer systems at work replace it with beef. Also, we were having a special price on the (all-meat specialties) and the (supreme specialties).
Place: (a national pizza chain)
Lady: Do you have pork sausage?
Me: No, we don't. May I suggest beef?*
Lady: But do you have ham? That's pork too, right?
Me: Yes. Do you have an allergy or a religious prohibition against pork?
Lady: I'm allergic to pork. Can I have a (all-meat specialty) but leave off the ham?
Me: Ma'am, the (all-meat specialty) comes with pepperoni and Italian sausage, which both have pork in them. If you're allergic, it would be a bad idea to order a pizza with those ingredients! Might I suggest a (supreme specialty) and maybe substituting a couple of the ingredients?
Lady: But it's really just ham that's bad for me.
Me: Ma'am, if you're allergic to pork, you shouldn't have it at all.
Lady: Can I take this menu? I'm gonna go in the car with my husband and decide what I want, okay? Leaves.
Me: Okay. See you later.
She never returned.
Place: (a national pizza chain)
Lady: Do you have pork sausage?
Me: No, we don't. May I suggest beef?*
Lady: But do you have ham? That's pork too, right?
Me: Yes. Do you have an allergy or a religious prohibition against pork?
Lady: I'm allergic to pork. Can I have a (all-meat specialty) but leave off the ham?
Me: Ma'am, the (all-meat specialty) comes with pepperoni and Italian sausage, which both have pork in them. If you're allergic, it would be a bad idea to order a pizza with those ingredients! Might I suggest a (supreme specialty) and maybe substituting a couple of the ingredients?
Lady: But it's really just ham that's bad for me.
Me: Ma'am, if you're allergic to pork, you shouldn't have it at all.
Lady: Can I take this menu? I'm gonna go in the car with my husband and decide what I want, okay? Leaves.
Me: Okay. See you later.
She never returned.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Every Day I Say:
Hello.
How are you?
What can I do for you?
Would you like to hear our specials?
Would you like extra cheese on that?
Would you like a refreshing beverage?
I'm sorry; we don't accept checks.
Will this be for pick-up or for delivery?
What else can I do for you?
Will this be all for you?
Thank you.
Have a nice day.
How are you?
What can I do for you?
Would you like to hear our specials?
Would you like extra cheese on that?
Would you like a refreshing beverage?
I'm sorry; we don't accept checks.
Will this be for pick-up or for delivery?
What else can I do for you?
Will this be all for you?
Thank you.
Have a nice day.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Credit Cards
I work in an environment where I come into direct contact with the public, both in person and on the telephone. Much of this work involves processing orders with a credit card via telephone. I've run into a few situations that earn my frustration.
First, I really hate it when customers can't tell me what kind of card it is. Usually the card logo is prominently displayed somewhere on the face of the card. Telling me it's a credit card doesn't do me any good. I also don't care if it's a debit, a check card, or Bank of America. Especially concerning the latter, I don't care what financial institution issued you your piece of plastic, but it makes it easier when you just tell me Visa or MasterCard. Also I feel frustrated to no end when you cannot tell me the correct expiration date, or if you give me an expired card. If I tell you that the date is invalid, it is because you have given me a card that is out of date.
I cannot stand when a patron gives me the CCV, or security code, when I ask for for the billing zip code. A billing zip code is five digits--do not give me "5-6-1" or "9-4-1-2" ( a four-digit security code is on the face of American-Express cards). Give me, say, "90210" or "44610." Also, if you do not know your zip code, congratulations, you're an idiot. If you can't tell me your zip code, that means (to me) you've never paid a bill, wrote a letter, applied for a job, filled out a form, or done anything competent adults usually have done. If you tell me the wrong zip code, you are an utterly stupid idiot. The only excuse is if you have just moved. If you've been in the area for at least a month, learn the zip code. If you tell me a certain zip code but then change it after I process payment (whether or not your card was accepted), I will secretly hate you. Please know as well that billing zip code means the zip code of the place where you should receive your credit card bill in the mail. If you have a debit or check card, it is the zip code that you gave the bank on the application. If you have moved but did not change the zip code for the card, chances are it's still associated with the old zip code.
Sign the credit card receipt. Don't walk out when I'm trying to call your name. I know some places have a policy of requiring a signature when the amount due is above a certain number, but where I work you are required to sign. If you don't, you don't get what you paid for: that would be failing to adhere to the cardmember agreement. Unfortunately, where I work, debit is not accepted, but most debit cards have a Visa or MasterCard logo for credit capability. If you are paying by phone, it is safe to assume that your order will be charged as credit. Don't be an idiot by saying your PIN out loud. Also, if you don't see a keypad in front of you when your card is swiped, it is probably processed as credit.
Not every business is guaranteed to accept your kind of card: this is particularly true for those who use American-Express, Discover, Diners Club, or some other obscure brand. The most common are Visa and MasterCard, the former being virtually guaranteed everywhere you might go. If we don't take you card, don't get mad at us. That's why you should carry cash.
First, I really hate it when customers can't tell me what kind of card it is. Usually the card logo is prominently displayed somewhere on the face of the card. Telling me it's a credit card doesn't do me any good. I also don't care if it's a debit, a check card, or Bank of America. Especially concerning the latter, I don't care what financial institution issued you your piece of plastic, but it makes it easier when you just tell me Visa or MasterCard. Also I feel frustrated to no end when you cannot tell me the correct expiration date, or if you give me an expired card. If I tell you that the date is invalid, it is because you have given me a card that is out of date.
I cannot stand when a patron gives me the CCV, or security code, when I ask for for the billing zip code. A billing zip code is five digits--do not give me "5-6-1" or "9-4-1-2" ( a four-digit security code is on the face of American-Express cards). Give me, say, "90210" or "44610." Also, if you do not know your zip code, congratulations, you're an idiot. If you can't tell me your zip code, that means (to me) you've never paid a bill, wrote a letter, applied for a job, filled out a form, or done anything competent adults usually have done. If you tell me the wrong zip code, you are an utterly stupid idiot. The only excuse is if you have just moved. If you've been in the area for at least a month, learn the zip code. If you tell me a certain zip code but then change it after I process payment (whether or not your card was accepted), I will secretly hate you. Please know as well that billing zip code means the zip code of the place where you should receive your credit card bill in the mail. If you have a debit or check card, it is the zip code that you gave the bank on the application. If you have moved but did not change the zip code for the card, chances are it's still associated with the old zip code.
Sign the credit card receipt. Don't walk out when I'm trying to call your name. I know some places have a policy of requiring a signature when the amount due is above a certain number, but where I work you are required to sign. If you don't, you don't get what you paid for: that would be failing to adhere to the cardmember agreement. Unfortunately, where I work, debit is not accepted, but most debit cards have a Visa or MasterCard logo for credit capability. If you are paying by phone, it is safe to assume that your order will be charged as credit. Don't be an idiot by saying your PIN out loud. Also, if you don't see a keypad in front of you when your card is swiped, it is probably processed as credit.
Not every business is guaranteed to accept your kind of card: this is particularly true for those who use American-Express, Discover, Diners Club, or some other obscure brand. The most common are Visa and MasterCard, the former being virtually guaranteed everywhere you might go. If we don't take you card, don't get mad at us. That's why you should carry cash.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Fast Food and Toddlers
Learn some common courtesy and leave your toddlers at home when you're eating out. That's what babysitters are for. I'm tired of sweeping up a million scattered breadcrumbs and mashed potato lumps from Tiny Tim's uncoordinated hands. I hate mopping up spilled red punch or chocolate milk, especially when it gets so busy you don't have time to mop it up. Then it evaporates, leaving behind a sticky, crusty residue that requires some heavy duty floor cleaner and manipulation of the mop itself that makes your back hurt.
It is really annoying when your order is completed and already handed out to you and you come back because your bastard child doesn't want salt on his fries or doesn't like his toy. I understand that small children and toddlers may be indecisive about what they want, but that's what parents are for. Parents are supposed to be able to speak for their children when they cannot:
"Oh, Timmy, what do you want to eat?"
Timmy coos unintelligibly.
"We'll get the mac n' cheese and tater tots."
If you must bring them with you, try your best to keep them in their seats. Do you know how much Windex I waste wiping away those greasy hand- and nose prints? For some reason, big wide windows are magnets to small children's digits and noses.
It is really annoying when your order is completed and already handed out to you and you come back because your bastard child doesn't want salt on his fries or doesn't like his toy. I understand that small children and toddlers may be indecisive about what they want, but that's what parents are for. Parents are supposed to be able to speak for their children when they cannot:
"Oh, Timmy, what do you want to eat?"
Timmy coos unintelligibly.
"We'll get the mac n' cheese and tater tots."
If you must bring them with you, try your best to keep them in their seats. Do you know how much Windex I waste wiping away those greasy hand- and nose prints? For some reason, big wide windows are magnets to small children's digits and noses.
My Apologies, Dear Sir
I apologize if your order wasn't made correctly. I'm sorry if delivery took a little longer than anticipated. All you have to do is calmly explain your issue, and it will be resolved. But I beg of you to not displace your frustrations from your life onto me. I am not your therapist nor a counselor: I am paid little more than minimum wage to provide a small service for you. My life is stressful enough without your unsolicited verbal lashing.
I wish you'd see me as a human, living and breathing flesh and blood with feelings, but I know that all I am to you is a uniformed robot behind the counter. I think if you were forced to see me as I really am, you wouldn't treat me like the mud caked onto your shoes that you're currently tracking in. You wouldn't dismiss me as low class, uneducated white trash. But you regard me as a nonperson because it's easier that way.
I work here because I get a paycheck that allows me to survive. Unlike the surly teenagers that work here, I actually pretend to care about my job in hopes of a small future raise and perhaps a promotion, though the former is a more realistic possibility. So you see, this job means a lot to me. The least you could do is pretend I matter.
I wish you'd see me as a human, living and breathing flesh and blood with feelings, but I know that all I am to you is a uniformed robot behind the counter. I think if you were forced to see me as I really am, you wouldn't treat me like the mud caked onto your shoes that you're currently tracking in. You wouldn't dismiss me as low class, uneducated white trash. But you regard me as a nonperson because it's easier that way.
I work here because I get a paycheck that allows me to survive. Unlike the surly teenagers that work here, I actually pretend to care about my job in hopes of a small future raise and perhaps a promotion, though the former is a more realistic possibility. So you see, this job means a lot to me. The least you could do is pretend I matter.
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