April 28th, 2007On this day in different years

My hair is on fire!

(no subject)

This isn't bad so much as it is odd.

I ordered 2 extra large 3 topping pizzas and 1 jalapeno-cheddar dip.

Apparently Pizza Pizza has a policy that if they don't give you a receipt you get your order free. I wasn't even really thinking or caring about it at the time, I just wanted my pizzas and to go home.

Got my pizzas, and was in kinda a rush to go home so I forgot the dip that I had paid for. My friend volunteered to call but then got so freaking wrapped up in getting the order for free that he didn't ask for my dip. (For the record, I appreciate the free pizzas, but I really just wanted my dip... which they couldn't deliver - which I totally understand.)

A credit is added to my file. Suddenly I get a phone call from the local Pizza Pizza. (The complaints are handled by the office and not by the individual stores). The man is apologizing over the receipt (again, to my dismay, not the dip haha) because the cook is new and he didn't realize he didn't give us the receipt. He wanted to know if he could drive out the bill and the dip (which they couldn't do before?) and get us to cancel our complaint.

I kinda guffawed and said no, sorry, what's done is done.... I guess I was still a bit miffed about the dip. By that time I had finished eating what I was going to eat of the pizza and sans the dip I paid for so- no, I didn't want my dip now. The manager took it pretty well (how else could he take it?) but it was a weird request. I'm curious if they're even allowed to do stuff like that, and it makes me wonder how many complaints they're received for him to call up an individual's house and basically barter to have the complaint removed?

Phone Suckage

So I was out shopping with my friend a few weeks ago, and we walked past the shop I have my mobile phone contract with. I was due an upgrade, so I went in.

After finding a phone I liked, we then went through the process of altering my tariff so it was cheaper (£65/month down to £35). It was after we got through that that he told me I'd be getting a new mobile number since I was switching to Orange from 02. This after me telling him I wanted to keep my old number, specifically because they had messed me around last time I changed networks.

Still, I agreed to it because he told me there was no other choice, all the other options with contracts were crap, etc. (which made me slightly suspicious, whatever). He explained to me the procedure for getting my PAC code changed etc. so I could switch networks - he gave me a typed letter to send to 02 with all my personal information filled in in pen. Not only was it barely readable, but he'd made mistakes despite the fact that he was copying my details off of a computer screen, and so there were messy scribbles everywhere. I didn't really want to send it off to a company in that state, but whatever. I was quitting business with 02 anyway.

Plus the staff in general seemed kind of clueless - I asked them why PAC codes couldn't be done online, and neither the guy serving me, his colleague, or the manager knew...

He then promised me it would all be fine and there wouldn't be any hassle getting my number transferred from 02 to Orange.

I got home, and realised that my new phone didn't work in that I couldn't send/receive messages, calls etc. Luckily I could still use my old phone, with my old number until the switchover. I decided that I might as well keep the new phone number, because there are certain people who had my old phone number that I don't want to stay in contact with, and because I was worried about causing problems with the whole PAC code thing.

So I return to the shop and tell them I want to keep my new number instead of transferring the old. They say this is fine as I haven't sent the letter off, and then I tell them that my phone doesn't seem to work.

The two guys look shiftily at each other and say something about the phone obviously not been registered. (Whcih apparently the first guy should have checked the first time I came in). They then proceed to have an argument about it, both refusing to do it, and then eventually asked who served me originally. When I told them, they told me to come back in 10 mins as he was with a customer.

By this time I'm beginning to get annoyed, so I leave and come back around 10-15 mins later, only to find out that the guy isn't around.

I then have to explain what's happened AGAIN, this time to the manager, and then he finds someone else to help me. This person sits at the desk in complete silence, totally ignoring me, then calls Orange. Orange don't reply, and the manager eventually tells him to keep trying but to let me go so I don't have to wait any longer, and he'll call me when it's sorted out.

Nonplussed, I leave. I wait two days for a phone call from them, and nothing. I return to the shop again, this time extremely pissed off.

I explain the whole thing AGAIN to the first worker I see there. His response? 'Did you get that phone from here? Do you have a contract with us?' WHY would I complain to them and use employees' names if I hadn't even bought the phone there?! What the hell?

FINALLY it ends up getting sorted out. They say that the guy who was supposed to call up couldn't do it and couldn't call me because, obviously, the phone wasn't working. I may have accepted this excuse if a) they didn't have my old phone number that was still working, which they did b) they didn't have my address, which they did and c) they didn't ask me for any other contact details, e.g. email address or landline number in case it didn't go through. So I'm wondering now how the hell they contact people if their phone is messed up. Clearly they just don't bother.

It annoyed me because I look a lot younger than I am, and I'm female, so obviously they thought they could fob me off with excuses. The minute I showed signs of being annoyed, and lost my temper with them, they were falling over their feet to help me and got my problem sorted out with minimal effort. I'm especially annoyed that I had to go through all of this after I told the first guy my concerns and he promised me there wouldn't be any hassle.
paul's new hair gay

2 days, 2 subways, 2 bad service

Yesterday, Franklin Tennessee Subway.

I know you're in training, and I can see you're a bit short for the counter, but man, have some boob awareness and quit squishing my sandwich with your now mustard-covered right boob...

And manager type person, you were there, that's the point where you say to the customer "whoops, let's make you another sandwich" instead of checking the current sandwich for shirt fuzz and tossing a couple of lettuce leaves off.

Due to about 6 billion people now behind me, I decide to let it go as all the boob-splattered veggies were pretty much gone at that point.  I pick off a few more and enjoy my unclean shirted sandwich.

Today, Nashville area Subway

I knew things were not looking good for me when I pull up and the one guy there who makes a good sandwich was walking out at a fast pace.  I tell the lady there my order, and she's looking over my right shoulder and really really going very slowly.  She got out a piece of bread that must have been 8 or so inches long, it was much more than a 6 inch sub, I thought that was kind of weird.  She passes it off to the next person there who looks at the slice and decides it's too big and cuts it down to roughly 4.5 inches in front of me and I say to her "er, that's now about a 4 inch sub" and she just looks at me while putting handfull after handfull of stuff in to the point there is no chance in hell this is a sandwich, it's now a salad on a piece of bread that will never ever close.  While I am trying to tell her that this is no longer a sandwich she goes to the next customer and ignores me, while talking to the other customer rings me up at a price about $3 over what I normally pay, I get that corrected and try talking to her about the sandwich and she is now in a conversation with the next customer.  There is also now a line of 16 people behind me so I decide rather than risk their wrath, I'll just re-make the sandwich myself.  As a note, there was nobody behind me when I started.

I decide to take the sammich, take a pic of said sammich, and send it to the manager... it's not a sandwich, it's 2 handfulls of jalapenos, banana peppers, and a galon of vinegar and mustard unapetizingly positioned upon a vinegar-soaked 4 inches of bread.  The weird part is it was pretty good.
When in doubt > Taylor


There are 2 in my town. One I usually go to, and one that's closer to my house. I won't be going to the closer one anymore.

I understand having friends come see you at work, on your break, whatever. I really do. I'm all for it because I've had those days that just never seem to end and a friend can make you feel worlds better just after a few minutes. But really, when your friend is THAT sick, please for the love of Pete, his brother Bob, and their cousin Steve, don't let him anywhere near the food. In fact don't let him touch ANYTHING. He touched that door handle about 10 times in 2 minutes, and so did the 14 other peple working there who handle the food. Sneezing inside near food and blowing your nose inside near food are also not acceptable.

Also, the other Sonic is much better run than this one. I've gone in at high noon on a friday when it's uber busy, ordered 3 meals (2 of us in the car, bringing one back to someone else still working) and gotten it quicker than it took to get my fruit smoothie out today. You had about 8 people on break munching on their food very slowly and laughing at the coworker who was still learning to roller skate, and about 5 people inside rushing around trying to get all the food made. Some of them (from what I could see) were making a good effort to keep Sick Dude away from the food and shoo him out, but he didn't seem to care.

Also, don't bitch at me for paying with a credit card. If it gave me the option to tip with that form of payment, chances are, I'd tip you if you deserved a tip. But when I don't have cash and I just want a freaking fruit smoothie, and I'm parked right next to the door on a nice day, don't complain because I didn't tip you 90c. (When we have large orders and/or the weather is bad here, we always try to tip, good amounts to, because that has to suck bringing our food out in the crazy wind we get here).

And when I ask for a refund because I see Sick Dude sneezing on everything, don't tell me he's not contagious. He looks absolutly miserable and I don't want to take the chance. And you shouldn't subject everyone else here to the same risk. I miss enough days out of the year from being sick. I don't need it around finals either, and I'm sure that a lot of others would agree.


Also, quick question about ebay service. I don't shop or sell on ebay a lot, but I have used it in the passed for various things. Whenever I sell items I try to let the buyer know what I'm doing and when with the shipping. It's rare that I get a seller who informs me of ANYTHING with the shipping. I get invoices saying "Pay now" and then nothing about when the item will be shipped, if it has been shipped, or anything along those lines. Does this bug anyone else, or do I just get random lazy sellers?
Note:I don't expect every seller to be like me, keeping me informed every step of the way, but a little more communication would be nice.

More Subway suck

Prompted by the previous poster, I have to write up my shortie of what happened to me at the local Subway that is inside a Wal-Mart near my house.

Yesterday after picking up more ice cream and junk food than necessary at the Wal-Mart, my husband and I decided to grab some sandwiches from the Subway to take home for lunch. The lady behind the counter made our sandwiches then rang us up. I gave her my money and she made my change. At this point, I realized she had handled my money with her gloves still on and I dawdled a bit to see what she would do afterwards.

An older gentleman was waiting behind us. She went over to him, still wearing the same gloves and asked if there was anything she could get for him. His response.... "Nothing, after you handled that money. There's nothing dirtier than money!" Then he walked out.

Dick liquor store cashier or dick grandpa?

For reasons I won't bother stating here, my grandpa's kind of a dick. Not because he's going senile (I think)...he's just kind of a dick. He was visiting my family this weekend.
After we finished eating some Jimmy John's subs (yum) at a strip mall, he wanted to walk down a few doors to the liquor store. He said he was looking for some really great beer he had tried at a party. Being 18, and not much of a drinker myself, I was nonchalant about it.
We go into the store, and after a minute of searching, he finds a large bottle of the beer he's looking for. He brings the bottle up to the cashier. The cashier is already busy with someone, and oddly, my grandpa decides to stand at the end of the counter closest to the door, rather than behind the customer or next to him. Then Grandpa suddenly walks back to the spot where we found the beer to look for something else, leaving the bottle behind. I sense the cashier finds this a little unnerving. I grab the bottle, and I flash him one of those looks I hope he reads as "sorry, he's kind of weird."
I walk over to my grandpa, and he says that he's now looking for a set of smaller bottles of the same kind of beer. I point it out for him, and we walk back to the cashier. There's a woman being helped this time, so we have to wait for a bit. To my dismay, Grandpa brings up the subject of drinking in college (I start next year). He's talking kind of loudly, and in the back of my mind I'm thinking, "great, I wonder what's going to happen when we reach the cashier."
We get to the front of the line, and the cashier is ringing up the booze. Suddenly, he asks me for my ID.
"Who, me?" I say.
"Yes," says the cashier.
"Alright," I say, digging my driver's license out of my wallet, "but it's not like I'm planning on drinking this stuff." Of course, I know he's not going to be convinced by me saying that, but I give it a shot anyway.
He checks my ID and says, "Sorry, I don't think I can sell to you guys."
"What?!" cries Grandpa. "Why? Because he's 18?"
"Yes, I don't feel comfortable selling it to you guys," says the cashier.
My grandpa goes into "OMGWTFBOOZE" mode, yelling at the cashier for being unreasonable. The cashier continues to stand by his decision. Grandpa asks if he could buy the beer if I left the store. "No," says the cashier, "and I wouldn't sell it to you if come back later, either."
I decide to intervene on behalf of the cashier, and I say to Grandpa, "He's got reason to be suspicious of us, Grandpa. Let's just go."
My grandpa gives up, but bizarrely, the cashier tells us where the next nearest liquor store is. We drive there, and Grandpa buys his beer while I wait in the car.

On one hand, my grandpa's odd and aggressive behavior gave plenty of reason for the cashier to deny us service. On the other hand, the cashier was acting more out of paranoia than anything; he probably would have sold us the beer if I was five or ten years younger. What's the consensus here?