Windy Sydney

Oh, the joys of working with the public.  Most of the time the people are calm and pleasant, but there are usually a couple of people a day that make me detest my job at customer service.  They get to yell and scream at me (sometimes with horrible breath) and I have to just take it.  Stay respectful.  Calm. Cool.  Collected.  It's hard to do when the customer is a complete jackass, believe me.

A couple months ago I was helping out at the returns counter.  We were unusually busy that day, so they asked me to go over and lend a hand.  Being the wonderful employee I am, I told them I would... with a giant fake smile.

I hate the returns counter.  Why?  Because people blame the person behind the counter for everything that went wrong with their item.  The item was defective, or broken when they opened the package, maybe it didn't fit... whatever it is... it's Andee's fault.  It's like people think the employees get together before the store opens and plans to sell defective crap to people just to ruin their day.  Give me a break.

Anyway...

As I said, we were extremely busy, but with two of us behind registers the line was moving pretty smoothly.  A twenty-something young man walks up to me and slams a box on the counter.  Yeah... he was going to be trouble.

I asked him how he was doing because I didn't want to fuel his rage.  He replied with, "How the Hell does it look like I'm doing?"  He took this opportunity to jab his index finger in my face (not touching me, but close) and said, "This God-Damned thing doesn't work and I want my God-Damned money back!!!"  The second time he "God-Damned" he rammed his finger onto the desk to help him make his point.  His face was bright red, and the other customers in the area were starting to stare at him in disgust... probably more for his language than for how he was treating me, trust me.

I proceeded to ask this young man if the had his receipt from his purchase.  He didn't say a word. He just stared at me.  I asked him again with no response.  He was trying to intimidate me, but he wasn't succeeding much. There were times that I have to remind myself to stay professional.  Getting angry will only escalate the problem, and that is sometimes their goal... if they escalate they might get a sympathetic manager or supervisor and get a large discount to keep them as a valued customer.  Happens all the time.

I calmly looked the dude right in his eyes and said, "If you don't have a receipt Sir, I will need to look at your drivers license to issue you store credit."  He kept staring, so I played his game and just stared right back.

He finally reached into his back jeans pocket and pulled out his wallet.  You know those little windows where people usually display their driver's licenses or military ID?  Guess what was in his little window... just guess... his temple recommend.  Yes, I am serious.  It gets even better...

This angry, sullen jackass wanted me to take his temple recommend as ID.  Really.  It's true!  I had to tell  him three times I needed a state or federal photo ID to process his return.  I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from calling him "Brother Jackass" or to ask him which ward he attended or his bishop's name.

Oh, and the temple recommend thing happens alot... most of the time its old people who assume their temple recommend is issued by God himself, therefore everyone should take it.  It's very amusing every time it happens.

Believe it or not, that wasn't even close to being the worst customer or guest I have had the pleasure of dealing with.  Far from it.

When I first moved to Orlando, I worked in a restaurant on a theme park's property.  It was a fairly popular place to take your family out to dinner, and ninety percent of the time we were really busy.

Anyone who has worked in restaurants before knows that there are many factors that determine the customers experience.  They might have had to wait a long time for a table, they might think the host or hostess gave them a bad table, Hell, they might have had a horrible day before they even stepped into the restaurant!  When stuff like this happens to a server, they get blamed for things they had no control over.

One time I was taking care of a table of five people.  I walked over to them, introduced myself with my best smile and told them about the garlic alfredo chicken penne pasta the chef had prepared for our special.  I asked them if I could get them a drink from our full service bar.

This is when the grumpy old man sitting directly to my left made a grunting noise.  What should a waitress do in this situation?  Maybe he didn't mean to grunt? Maybe he was just trying to clear his throat or something, right? Wrong.

He folded his menu and told me I had fifteen minutes to get hamburgers and french fries to everyone at his table.  Well done.  For every minute it took, a dollar came off of my tip.  At that point I decided I didn't give a flying shit about my tip.  He would get his burgers when the kitchen got to them, just like everyone else... and then it happened... He swatted my rear end with his open palm.

I am sure the look on my face was shock, but then it quickly turned to horror and anger.  Extreme anger.  I made an about-face without asking for their drink orders.  The look on his face was smug and arrogant.  I went in search of my manager.

Do you know what it's like to be so angry the only thing you can do is cry?  It must have appeared to everyone in the kitchen that my dog had been run over or I had gotten some bad news from Utah.  I was a sobbing mess... and that made me even angrier, because this asshole made me cry.

I found my supervisor, Samatha, and told her what happened.  She couldn't believe it.  This is around the same time another waitress, Mary, walked in and said, "Andee, table 16 is asking about their burgers?  Didn't they just get here?"  Turns out, he slapped her on the ass, too! She screamed at him hard core for it, too.  He felt she was being rude to him and he had asked to speak with her manager.

Samantha made her way to the table, already dreading her encounter with the dirty old bastard.  She took one of the chefs out with her because it was fairly clear this idiot didn't respect women.  While they were dealing with the fat jerk, I went to check on another of my tables.

Table fifteen was a fantastic family that overheard and saw everything this guy did.  The father, being the outstanding southern gentleman that he was, asked me if he wanted him to teach him a lesson.  I put a genuine smile on my face and I am embarassed to say that I actually considered taking him up on his offer.  I winked at the two kids and told them they were being fantastic with their manners.  I went back into the kitchen and grabbed them a giant milkshake to share... on the house... with extra whipped cream.  Before I gave it to them, I made them promise to never behave like the man at the next table.

I lifted the giant vanilla milkshake with two glasses over the table as they swore they would never do anything like that.  Mom and Dad were happy.  The little boy said, "I wouldn't do that, Ma'am."  What a cutie.  He was something right out of Mayberry.

Around this time security showed up to ask the rude man and his family to leave.  He refused.  He wanted his burgers.  The chef actually told him that he would personally slap anyone who cooked him a burger.  It made me laugh.  He left with a security escort.  Banned from the park forever.

What are people like this thinking?

UGH!@!#@!#$@!

Andee