No Punny Title, Just Really Bad Customer Service.

Yesterday, I went to a deli-type restaurant to eat lunch.  It is a chain restaurant, and I have been to some other locations but never the one where I live.  I've always loved the food and the people that work there.

UNTIL NOW.

My friend and I walk in, and the girl that's supposed to be taking our order is sitting at the counter reading a trashy romance novel.  We grab some menus and start looking through them.  My friend orders the chicken salad sandwich, and Miss Literary Junkie informs her that they are out of chicken salad.  Alright, no big deal, she orders something else.  I order a sandwich, and then decide I want some soup.  There's a sign that says "Soups of the Day," and I ask if those are the only soups they have today.

"Oh, we don't have either of those soups."

Hm.  That's odd that your sign states otherwise.

"Alright then," I say, "What soup do you have?"

She points to a giant pot of soup on the stove and says,

 "Just that one."

Given that I don't have x-ray vision and the pot is made of stainless steel, I go ahead and ask what kind of soup "that one" is.

"I don't know," she says.

I pause for a second, waiting for her to go ask somebody or at least go open the lid...BUT NOPE! She just sat there.  I'm guessing the shock on my face led her to follow up with this explanation:

"It's just like...soup.  Like, vegetable or broth or whatever."

YUMMY. TWO PLEASE.

 

Reader Rants Vol. 1

Lately, some of my friends have been coming to me with their own problems with the human race and asking me to blog about them.  Since I'll never turn down an opportunity to bitch about something, I gladly obliged.

Brittany C. from Charleston, SC would like to ask her fellow shoppers to please give her some personal space when it comes to standing in line at the cash registers.  Or anywhere else, if I had to guess.  I hate these people too, Brittany.  Moving closer to me is actually not speeding up this transaction, so please stay back.  If I can smell your breath and you can see my PIN, you're too close.

Sarah B. from Mt. Pleasant, SC is tired of letting YOU out in front of her in traffic and receiving no signal of gratitude back.  Not even a wave? A nod? I bet you'd have some certain signals if instead she rammed into the side of your car.

Jessie T. from Charleston, SC wonders what sort of idiot drives around with their turn signal on while they're clearly going straight down a road.  Did they consider turning, but then forget?  How do you not hear that obnoxious clicking?

Have a rant? Or a rave? (But preferably a rant.) Let me know!

At the Tone, Please Record Your Message

Your phone's ringing in another room.  You race around to find it (I'll admit, it's almost impossible to find anything in my giant mansion apartment), but by the time you do, it's too late.  They didn't leave a voicemail, so you dial them right back.

Ring....ring....ring....ring.


NO ANSWER!  What did they do?  Hang up and then immediately run away?  Drop the phone and then book it for the nearest train station?  You ignoring their phone call was the last straw and now they're standing on a bridge somewhere taking off their shoes? 

I DON'T GET IT.

Dear Man at Bi-Lo

Dear Man at Bi-Lo,
     I notice that you're walking around the grocery store using a tooth flosser.

A couple of things run through my mind.  Do you realize that this is a store where people are buying food?  A store where there is an entire section of fruits and vegetables laying helpless and uncovered as you flick your decay all over them?  You are worse than people who sneeze in the buffet line.  Is your schedule really that tight that you have to combine your grocery shopping with your dental hygiene routine? 

That's it.  If you need me, I'll be putting on a surgical mask over in Aisle 9.

Thanks,

     Shannon