I recently remembered this gem from back when I was in university. Our student service center (where you register for your courses, make payments, etc) was always terrible...it's like it was in the job description to be a heartless b*tch and run the students around in circles.
So one year, I'd been told by my dean that I should take Calculus. My program required four years of technical math, but since I had really good marks the first year, he said I could replace the other three years with one year of Cal. I thought, sure, why not? In the long run it would actually save me $1200 worht of tuition.
So that August, I went to register my courses. I'd actually been working a full-time job that summer and as thus I had to request a few hours off that day to get in and register (why the service center is only open from 9 am to 4 pm I'll never know...). So I went up with the sheet all filled out for my courses and I got the uber evil. This woman has f***ed around so many students it's not even funny. It's like she gets some sick joy out of it.
I can't remember exactly how it went. Basically she told me I wasn't allowed to take Calculus because I didn't have the prerequisits. I have no idea what the prereqs were...I don't think she ever told me. She said the only way I could take the course without the prereqs was to get the dean's permission. I told her I did have his permission, but she said I needed a written consent. I kind've understood that, but it was still annoying. So I walked to the dean's offices to find that my dean in particular wasn't there and there was a note saying he wouldn't be there for a few weeks (clear into classes starting). So I went back down and told the witch that and she literally started flipping out.
I hadn't even complained yet, seriously. She just started berating me for wanting to take a course I couldn't handle and that I wouldn't even take the necessary steps (I tried! He WASN'T THERE!) and all this crap. She went on for about ten minutes before I snatched my form out of her hands and stalked out.
When I got back to work I wrote an email to the dean of admissions detailing that, while I understood why she couldn't help me, the service woman had berated me and yelled at me for no good reason. I also detailed other issues I'd had with her in the past, such as her double drawing from my bank account and other such incidences. I said that I believed she was incompetent in her job and needlessly rude to students on average.
The dean of admissions forwarded this email to the woman-in-question's immediate supervisor. When she called me and asked politely if I could come in for a meeting with her about the issue I figured I was getting somewhere. I asked my boss for another few hours off and headed out to the school.
I don't even know what happened there. I was so shocked. From the moment I walked into this other woman's office she SCREAMED at me. She told me I had no right to complain about the service woman and that I was a terrible human being for trying to belittle her reputation. She said horrible things about me, yelling and screaming, and eventually told me that if she ever got another complaint about her service ladies from me she would get me kicked out of the school.
I didn't even know what to think. Now, several years later, I think I should have gone straight to the president of the school and complained about both of them, but at the time it was all I could do to make it back to work without bursting into tears.
So in the end, two total b**ches got away with belittling me for no good reason, I had to wait an extra week to get my courses registered (which meant I could have easily missed out on getting into some of them) and I lost several hours of pay from work. Good job school. Good job.
I decided to go to Pollo Tropical for lunch today for a yummy Chicken Tropichop. I figured that would be enough food to keep me going until quitting time. So I hit the drive-thru so I could enjoy my lunch in the quite office breakroom.
I get back to my office, take my lunch out of the bag, and what do I find? A scoop of rice, a pathetic excuse for black beans, and three cubes of chicken. Oh hell no.
So I get back in the car and go inside. I ask to speak to a manager, and the person at the counter grabs the guy behind him (the manager). I open my mouth to speak, and the manager says, "Hold on a second." and proceeds to take the order of the person behind me!
Once he finished with that person, he asks me what I need. I tell him that I went through the drive-thru and show him what I was given. He tells me, "Well, that's how it comes." Um, no. This is NOT $5 worth of food.
He tells me the only thing he can do is put a few more pieces of chicken on top of the now cold rice & beans. I tell him to just give me my money back, because this is not what I paid for.
He gives me the refund and then I take my happy self over to Subway for a much needed sandwich.
This happened about seven years ago and I still haven't managed to wrap my mind around all the stupid involved in it. One day I was out shopping with my mother, and we couldn't agree on where to eat. We finally compromised to stop at one of those gas stations with several restaurants inside. Mom headed for the Burger King, and I made a beeline for the Taco Bell.
The cashier seemed to be fairly new, possibly even a trainee. Nevertheless, I proceeded to make my usual order. A bean burrito with sour cream. Simple, right? She stares at the register for a moment or two, then excuses herself to confer with the manager. When they return to the register, the manager makes a very astute observation.
"Bean burritos don't come with sour cream," she says.
"I know," I respond. Now, I have encountered some cashiers who think "add sour cream" means "supreme minus tomato." I assumed this was the problem, until the cashier assumes a very condescending tone, as though she were talking to a little kid (I was a very young looking 14 at the time), and says...
"Well they don't come with sour cream. You can't have it that way."
This is where my mind boggled and my blood boiled. I can understand the new cashier not grasping the concept of adding sour cream, but the manager? I may have become a sucky customer at that point, but seriously.
"I've been ordering burritos here long enough to know that you can add sour cream to a plain burrito."
The manager pressed a few buttons and lo and behold my impossible order was ready in about five minutes.