Where's. My. RAAAAANCCHH!!!!????
Last night my head seriously almost exploded at work. I have been working in Take Away at Outback Steakhouse for the past two weeks (thank God they're putting me on Server Training on Thursday!!!). It is insane. This is what happened one of the first times I answered the phone there:
Me: "Outback Steakhouse, this is Renee. How may I help you?"
Irrational Customer: "Yeah, ya fucked up my food bad! I-"
Me: "Please hold!" :)
Seriously. Do I know you? Did I cook your food personally? Did I deliver it? No. I simply take down your order and address and tell you it will take about an hour. And apparently listen to your nasty, rude little potty mouth while you realize that you finally have someone you can complain to unconditionally. I hope I never get to the point where I scream curse words at a human being I've never even met, taking out all my person problems on them because they forgot to package a side of ranch with my cheese fries.
Today I had a customer service problem while trying to order cable for my apartment...did I scream at the woman on the phone? No! It's not her fault. It's a pain in the ass, but it's not her fault. And my problem is much more of a pain in the ass than having to wait 10 minutes for someone to bring me ranch dressing to my hotel room. Here's one for you: the previous renters didn't return their cable equipment, so I had to pay $3 to fax a copy of our lease and my driver's license to Time Warner Cable to prove that I am NOT THEM. I called them up today and the lady said they received it, but.... the lease has to be NOTARIZED to prove that I'm not the previous owner, JUAN CARDOSO. Are you KIDDING me? So now I have to go back to my realtor, have them notarize it, ride all the way back to Kinko's, pay another $3 to have it faxed, and then check back with her again before even getting to ORDER my cable. Ranch dressing my ASS, you spoiled, Lexington Ave, wipe your butt with money, Manhattanite bitches.
Ok. So maybe I can't yell at people on the phone, but at least I can put it in a journal entry without hurting anyone's feelings (unless you ARE a spoiled Manhattanite who wipes their ass with $5 bills...in that case, go fuck yourself). Manhattan is crazy.
On the plus side, my laundromat is amazing and does my laundry for .60 cents a pound, and folds all my cloths expertly. And the pharmacy down the street is friendly and cheap. And the Mexican grocery store where I get spirits and beverages...well, need I say more? Thank you, Queens. You are cool and amazing. AND I have a another date tonight. So go ahead, New York spoiled businessman...scream at me some more. If that's the only thing that can make you feel better, than you're worse off than me, no matter how much money you have. :)
Me: "Outback Steakhouse, this is Renee. How may I help you?"
Irrational Customer: "Yeah, ya fucked up my food bad! I-"
Me: "Please hold!" :)
Seriously. Do I know you? Did I cook your food personally? Did I deliver it? No. I simply take down your order and address and tell you it will take about an hour. And apparently listen to your nasty, rude little potty mouth while you realize that you finally have someone you can complain to unconditionally. I hope I never get to the point where I scream curse words at a human being I've never even met, taking out all my person problems on them because they forgot to package a side of ranch with my cheese fries.
Today I had a customer service problem while trying to order cable for my apartment...did I scream at the woman on the phone? No! It's not her fault. It's a pain in the ass, but it's not her fault. And my problem is much more of a pain in the ass than having to wait 10 minutes for someone to bring me ranch dressing to my hotel room. Here's one for you: the previous renters didn't return their cable equipment, so I had to pay $3 to fax a copy of our lease and my driver's license to Time Warner Cable to prove that I am NOT THEM. I called them up today and the lady said they received it, but.... the lease has to be NOTARIZED to prove that I'm not the previous owner, JUAN CARDOSO. Are you KIDDING me? So now I have to go back to my realtor, have them notarize it, ride all the way back to Kinko's, pay another $3 to have it faxed, and then check back with her again before even getting to ORDER my cable. Ranch dressing my ASS, you spoiled, Lexington Ave, wipe your butt with money, Manhattanite bitches.
Ok. So maybe I can't yell at people on the phone, but at least I can put it in a journal entry without hurting anyone's feelings (unless you ARE a spoiled Manhattanite who wipes their ass with $5 bills...in that case, go fuck yourself). Manhattan is crazy.
On the plus side, my laundromat is amazing and does my laundry for .60 cents a pound, and folds all my cloths expertly. And the pharmacy down the street is friendly and cheap. And the Mexican grocery store where I get spirits and beverages...well, need I say more? Thank you, Queens. You are cool and amazing. AND I have a another date tonight. So go ahead, New York spoiled businessman...scream at me some more. If that's the only thing that can make you feel better, than you're worse off than me, no matter how much money you have. :)