This will be a long-running, requently updated saga. Mrs Night (not her real name) is one of our regular SC's and an ABSOLUTE NIGHTMARE to deal with, over the phone or in person.
She's never rude or agressive, just very, VERY difficult.
Todays Mrs Night story:
Me: Brainy, Geeky, Hot.
MN: Mrs Night
SM: Store Manager.
AM: Assistant Manager
In brackets are my thoughts and reactions.
The phone rings. It's awkward to get to, you have to sort of squidge yourself in a small space to answer it.
So I answer, with my standard greeting.
Me: Hello, This is *store**city*, How can I help?
MN: This is Mrs Night
(at which point I have to suppress a groan. MN has been plauging us for years, since before I started working there)
MN: I want to buy some stuff, my daughter will be in later to pick it up.
And then she gives me her shopping list. Yes, she rings up three or four times a week to DO HER SHOPPING FOR HER. Can't she just give her daughter her list if she;ll be in later? As if I don't have anything better to do than her shopping. It's not like she disabled and can't do it herself, either.
Then we get to the yoghurt. Oh god, her and her f***ing yoghurt.
MN: What yoghurts do you have?
Me: I'm not sure off the top of my head, but I can see quite a few strawberry, so plain and one or two lemon.
MN: No vanilla?
Me: No, the vanilla spot is empty.
MN: Are you sure no vanilla:
Me: Definately no vanilla. We'll get some more in tomorrow. Chilled and frozen delivery is thursday.
MN: YES! I know. Could you CHECK on the vanilla for me?
M: Sure (I strangle a sigh, clamber out of the small space, bruising my shin in the process, and check. No vanilla)
Me: No vanilla, sorry.
MN:Oh. What OTHER yoghurt brands do you have?
Me: We have Little Swallow and Alpro Soya.
MN: I don't want to soya desserts.
Me: Not the desserts. the soya YOGHURT, in the fridge. Comes in plain and flavoured.
MN: I don't want the desserts. I know you do another yoghurt...
Me: Yes, the soya yoghurt in the fridge.
MN: Not the desserts?
Me: No.
MN: What flavours?
Me: Urrrmmm... I'll go check.
On my way back after checking (been on this phone 5-10 minutes now) my AM stops me and asks me to go to the bank before her lunch-break, or we'll be short staffed.
Me: Sure, in a sec, I'm on the phone with Mrs Night.
She rolls her eyes.
AM: [B]OH.[/B]
Long story short, I am ordered by Mrs Night to get her yoghurts of the shelf 'before anyone else gets them' and put them in the chiller for when her daughter gets there.
I do so then go to the bank, and finish off HER shopping for her when I get back.
SM agrees with me that she;s a nightmare, and I grump to some other staff members about the assumption I have nothing better to do on delivery day than run around with her shopping list.
She calls at least twice a week, if not more, and is even worse in person.
She's never rude or agressive, just very, VERY difficult.
Todays Mrs Night story:
Me: Brainy, Geeky, Hot.
MN: Mrs Night
SM: Store Manager.
AM: Assistant Manager
In brackets are my thoughts and reactions.
The phone rings. It's awkward to get to, you have to sort of squidge yourself in a small space to answer it.
So I answer, with my standard greeting.
Me: Hello, This is *store**city*, How can I help?
MN: This is Mrs Night
(at which point I have to suppress a groan. MN has been plauging us for years, since before I started working there)
MN: I want to buy some stuff, my daughter will be in later to pick it up.
And then she gives me her shopping list. Yes, she rings up three or four times a week to DO HER SHOPPING FOR HER. Can't she just give her daughter her list if she;ll be in later? As if I don't have anything better to do than her shopping. It's not like she disabled and can't do it herself, either.
Then we get to the yoghurt. Oh god, her and her f***ing yoghurt.
MN: What yoghurts do you have?
Me: I'm not sure off the top of my head, but I can see quite a few strawberry, so plain and one or two lemon.
MN: No vanilla?
Me: No, the vanilla spot is empty.
MN: Are you sure no vanilla:
Me: Definately no vanilla. We'll get some more in tomorrow. Chilled and frozen delivery is thursday.
MN: YES! I know. Could you CHECK on the vanilla for me?
M: Sure (I strangle a sigh, clamber out of the small space, bruising my shin in the process, and check. No vanilla)
Me: No vanilla, sorry.
MN:Oh. What OTHER yoghurt brands do you have?
Me: We have Little Swallow and Alpro Soya.
MN: I don't want to soya desserts.
Me: Not the desserts. the soya YOGHURT, in the fridge. Comes in plain and flavoured.
MN: I don't want the desserts. I know you do another yoghurt...
Me: Yes, the soya yoghurt in the fridge.
MN: Not the desserts?
Me: No.
MN: What flavours?
Me: Urrrmmm... I'll go check.
On my way back after checking (been on this phone 5-10 minutes now) my AM stops me and asks me to go to the bank before her lunch-break, or we'll be short staffed.
Me: Sure, in a sec, I'm on the phone with Mrs Night.
She rolls her eyes.
AM: [B]OH.[/B]
Long story short, I am ordered by Mrs Night to get her yoghurts of the shelf 'before anyone else gets them' and put them in the chiller for when her daughter gets there.
I do so then go to the bank, and finish off HER shopping for her when I get back.
SM agrees with me that she;s a nightmare, and I grump to some other staff members about the assumption I have nothing better to do on delivery day than run around with her shopping list.
She calls at least twice a week, if not more, and is even worse in person.
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