The other day at work, I was informed that I was tasked with asking a woman to re-sign some papers she had just signed two weeks prior because our supervisor had made a typo on the paperwork and needed the corrected papers signed that way everything was correct in our files.
No big deal, right? Just re-sign the SAME paper you just signed and move on.
I explain the silliness of the situation to the woman just as she conveniently walked in, and apologized.
“I’m going to need a letter explaining what the issue is and why I am resigning this.”
Now, I had so kindly explained to her our typo and that nothing had changed. Nope.
“Well, I need to talk to whoever found this typo and explain to me what I need to look for so I know everything is correct.”
Are you flippen serious?
Me: Mam, these are the same papers, we just made a mistake with one number, I assure you everything is the same. No harm.
“I am going to need a copy of that old signed paper.” Okay, no biggie…because that paper won’t matter since it has a TYPO! I kindly hand her the new paperwork, with a highlight over her name and where her husband needs to sign as well.
This difficult customer folds it, sticks it in her purse, and then asks me to go make a copy of something else. I return from the copier and she goes…
“Where is the new papers I need to resign?”
I just handed them to you, they’re in your purse.
“No, I think you took them back to that room because I do not have them!”
She begins to lift up her purse and look around her pathetic self in a panic. I begin to look everywhere even though everyone in my office, including myself, saw her stick it in her purse. This woman was genuinely convinced that I had taken back the paper. Mind you, this woman looks like a cross between a character from Hey Arnold and Sesame Street.
After many phone calls, looking in files, looking around for a paper that wasn’t missing… Oh, what’s that? That’s right, the paperwork was in her purse.
She apologizes for being a bother, I try my best not to lose my cool and keep my customer service face strong and as I’m trying to do so a coworker of mine walks past and goes “tick tick tick!” I smile out of amusement. Because she knows I’m about to explode. This is an hour and a half after I kindly asked her for her signature.
The woman leaves (only to return ten minutes later for other matters) and I cracked.
Sweet, innocent, patient with everyone Liz cracked.
“What the FUCK.” “FUCK!” I yell (no one else in the building but co-workers) “Who the hell does she think she is?!”
Everyone bust out laughing that I finally had a customer who made me so upset I was shaking. I completely lost my cool with this woman and was hoping she couldn’t see past my unamused expression that she was pissing me off. Because despite how extremely difficult she was being, and that this little signature turned into an hour and a half ordeal, I was concerned whether or not I expressed quality customer service to this woman.
So, my question of the week is, why are people so difficult? Have you had anyone more difficult than they needed to be this week? Or are YOU that difficult person? Feel free to share!
-Liz’s Rant is Over-