Jerks

I want to rant and rave about the stupid mean people at work tonight, so bare with me through this.

Apparently all the crazies wanted pizza tonight. Apparently all the crazies wanted to complain about their pizza, too. Either complain or make a scene. The joy started off with a jerk named Scott. Scott was apparently his last name. I have no idea what his first name is. Mr. Scott claims to have called and talked to "some guy" Saturday night about his pizzas being messed up and what not. We didn't have a credit or anything written down for him, so I told him I couldn't just be giving him free pizzas because he says so. I wasn't so blunt or rude about it, but that was the general idea. He told me that I needed to call the managers from Saturday night and talk to them about it. So, in order to not have to lie to him when he called back, I did call them. Neither of them remembered ever talking to this guy or anything about his pizzas. When he called back I told him I could give him 25% off his order, but that was the best I could do for him. He started rambling off about numbers and $8.50 and 35 dollars and whatnot and wouldn't stop. I told him I didn't know how much money he was going to get off until he told me what he was ordering and he screamed "OH GOD!" at me and hung up. Whatever, he can be pissy.

Shortly thereafter somebody called to tell me that his pizza had mushrooms all over it and they are nasty and he didn't order them and he hates them and they ruined his entire experience. I told him I was sorry and that he could either bring the pizza back tonight and we'd replace it for him, or he could bring back at least 75% of it next time he came in and we'd replace it for him then. He told me about how that was inconveniencing him a second time and about how that's an ignorant policy. Ignorant it may be, but it's the company's policy, not mine. I don't think it's ignorant anyway. We can't just be handing out free food willy nilly. We'd be broke. Anyway, I told him that I was sorry it was inconveniencing him, but it's written right on the box his pizza is in and it's our policy, the company's, not mine. He responded with something like, "I know it's not your policy. I know you're not writing this stuff. You're the lowest of the low of management in this company." Stupid asshat. He doesn't know me. He has no idea what my position is in the company. And that doesn't matter anyway. I could be the autistic busboy for all he cares. If he wants free food from me he doesn't need to be calling me worthless. But whatever, I got his name and some stuff and slammed the phone down after he hung up. He didn't get the wrath of my anger, but making a lot of noise made me feel better.

I think some other kind-of-annoying things happened in between this and the next incident, but I don't quite recall them in much detail. Later on, though, a bunch of kids were playing in the game room and one of them started screaming and crying. I didn't think much of it, as kids are wont to do that sort of thing when they don't get their way. But she kept going. One of the girls in the kitchen went out to check out what was going on. Apparently the little girl's hand was stuck in the trinket machine. Nobody knew what to do so Emily got me. It took me a moment to think of what the hell I was supposed to do with this. For a little while I thought I was going to have to call the fire department or something to get this girl's hand out of the machine. Finally something in my brain clicked back in gear and I asked her if she was holding on to anything inside the machine. She started laughing and pulled her hand right out. She was faking it the whole damn time. Screaming and crying and making a big freaking scene and not one thing was actually wrong. Even more annoying than her little prank was her father's reaction to it. He did nothing. NOTHING. He just giggled and they went along their merry way. This kid pulled two people out of the kitchen with her screaming and crying and carrying on and not one damn thing was wrong with her and her dad just laughed. Maybe someone needs to read The Boy Who Cried Wolf to her. Grrr.