today started off on the wrong foot when my sandwich opener called at 2am to say that he was sick and unable to work. so I planned accordingly and went in about 45 minutes early to get my stuff done and his stuff set up and call someone in early. everything was running fine. we had an early sandwich phone-in order for 7 sandwiches which I made perfectly, labeled even though it hadn’t been requested, and neatly put away. when the lady comes to pick up the order, i break away from calling orders to fetch it and the invoice for her to sign. I had a feeling she wasn’t going to be very nice when she made a comment about having to check it and started pulling everything out of the bag and putting it on the counter.
after she empties the bag, she muttered something about how it would be a whole lot easier if I would help her. now, first of all, you didn’t ask for any help. secondofly, you have SEVEN sandwiches, AND I labeled them. can you count and/or read? do you know how to count to seven? can you read the words “san franciscan”? however, being that I am a manager and am not allowed to be a bitch back, I asked her how she wanted me to help her. I mean, I really didn’t know. she had all the sandwiches literally laid out in front of her with names on them.
apparently, she wanted me to say, “okay, here’s your 1 BLT. and here’s the jambon et fromage. and here’s the fresh mozzarella. and over here are the two san franciscans. and the last two are the steeplechases.” she literally held onto her list and asked me to point out each of the sandwiches because she could neither read the labels nor count the number of sandwiches.
and then she angrily tells me, after confirming that indeed I did not screw up her sandwiches, that she ordered all regular chips. I told her that the order had said assorted chips, which is why I put assorted chips in there, to which she tells me in an inexplicably pissed off voice that no, the order didn’t say assorted chips because she placed the order and she said regular chips.
so I gave her all regular chips. I then pleasantly asked her to sign the invoice, thanked her, and said “have a nice day!” — smiling — in a very non-bitchy voice.
so she goes over to a register and orders a drink, and apparently COMPLAINS about me.
it just really made me mad. I didn’t do anything!!!! I’m sorry she can’t read and needed everything spelled out for her, but if she had let me know that up front then I gladly would have helped her! seriously!!! I mean, I’m GREAT at customer service!
think about it. the last time you placed a take-out order in a restaurant, did you expect the person giving you the order to take everything out of the bag and point it all out to you so that you could verify that it was there?
okay. the rest of the day went fine. everyone else was nice to me because I’m so damned nice to everyone there!!! it’s very cultivated, people, and every day that I work there I pretty much like those belle meade bitches less and less, but that sure doesn’t stop me from being overly friendly to them, and not in a fake way. (disclaimer: some of the customers I like very, very much. several of them, in fact.)
alright, just needed to get that off my chest. at least I don’t complain about work too much here.
btw, if anyone wanted to read that last blog, just ask me for the password. I’m not volunteering to give it to anyone and made the blog password-protected because I didn’t want to offend anyone. so ask at your own risk. it could be somewhat offensive, if you chose to take it that way….
No Promises This Time 