Approximately ten years ago I recieved a phone call that was so maddening I can still feel the frustration when I think about it. This occurred while I was temporarily serving a sentence as assistant manager of the shop instead of delivery driver. This was an extremely busy pizza place with an asshole general manager, low pay and very high stress level, didn’t last long. During this time I was a very cranky individual with very little patience, at least while I was at work.
Back to the phone call. Thinking back now I should have just hung up early in the call because it was obviously a lost cause. It was a crazy Friday night at suppertime. There is a delivery board there where you hang the slips of orders waiting to be delivered. I do remember the board was full which meant there were over twenty orders waiting to leave the store and at the time all four drivers were still out on deliveries.
This guy called cursing about his big order of pizza that wasn’t there yet. Here is the conversation.
Me: “What was the address”? (My stress level at 1 out of 10)
Asshole: “I don’t know what address they gave.”
Me: “What name was it under”?
Asshole: “We’re having a big party here and I’m not sure who ordered it but I want my pizza”?
Me: Let me get this straight, you don’t know who ordered it or what address they gave, I’m not sure I understand”? (My stress level up to 5)
Asshole: “We live on a kind of confusing corner and I’m not sure what they said for the address”
Me: “Would I be able to talk to the person who ordered the pizza”?
Asshole: “I allready told you I don’t know who ordered the pizza but I think they left.”
Me: “Do you know what they ordered”?
Asshole: “I didn’t order the fucking thing” ( He was really getting nasty)
Me: “So the person you think ordered the pizza left and you don’t know what address or name they gave.” (This is where I should have hung up) “How would you describe the address”?
Asshole: “We’re out in Tree River”.
Me: “Where in Tree River”?
Asshole: “Where’s my fucking pizza”? (My stess level at 8)
Me: “Hold please” (If I remember correctly I punched something or threw something at this point, considering my frame of mind those days, its a safe bet). Keep in mind that this shit for brains had still not given me much information except for the community. This was a small area on the outskirts of town where we hardly ever received orders but still had about thirty streets to chose from and I’m sure lots of “funny corners”. I checked all the slips and there no order within miles of Tree River at any point that day. I also asked all the people who were working the phones that night and the answere was no.
Me: “Are you postitive that these people called here”?
Asshole: “I know they called there, they told me”?
Me: “I thought you didn’t know who called”?
Asshole: “I don’t, but they ordered there.”
Me: “We don’t have an order for you, would you like to order now”?
Asshole: “It’s not my problem that your people fucked up, I want the pizza I ordered”?
Me: “I thought you said somebody else ordered it.” (I hoped that being a smart ass would make him hang up.)
Asshole: “I want my fucking pizza free! Now!” boomed the dickhead. (My stress level at 11)
Me: (Keep in mind that I was not thinking about customer satisfaction at this point) “There is NO pizza to get FREE. You can order a pizza now and pay for it. You realize that you’ve given no address, don’t know what was ordered, don’t know who ordered but they probably left and have the gall to say we FUCKED up.”
Asshole: I’m coming in there asshole, you better be ready. click
He never did show up, I guess with his poor knowledge of addresses he couldn’t find the pizza shop.