Complaints

Today, I received a transfer call at work.

Anytime a call is transferred to me from another department, it means that the transferer couldn't handle the transferee, and so I, being the lowly concierge have to deal with whoever is on the line with no hope of being rescued by the transfer button and all the escapism that comes with it.


Today, it was an older woman who said she was looking for an expensive restaurant. I was informed that she had already been read a list of all of the restaurants that we have here at the mall. Without a name, or cross streets, Google then became my only ally as I looked for this elusive "expensive restaurant." She said that "everybody seemed to know the restaurant, except the people that needed to," namely me. And so I was already on this old woman's bad side for not being a psychic phonebook: Able to determine what restaurant you want to eat at with the vaguest of parameters!

I swear this is who was on the phone.

After my probing questions in which I desperately tried to cling to some sort of specificity about this restaurant, she mentioned that this restaurant was open late, until at least 3 am (Taco Bell?), and served every kind of food (Hometown Buffet?). Later in the conversation, she said that the restaurant might not even be in this city at all, which was definitely the most helpful thing she could have said. After listing off a half dozen restaurants that met one or more of her criteria, she settled on an Asian restaurant called New Moon that is neither open late, nor renaissance in its menu options.


I really don't know what the point of writing all of this was except to complain about a particularly difficult customer today and share her stupidity with my loyal fan(s?). Likewise, I wanted to pepper this anecdote from my day with witty comments and dry humor so that when I inevitably share it with everyone I meet for years to come, I will have jokes built in to the foundation. Consider this a test run for this syndicated story!



get happy,
amg