As a result of laziness and Hydromet Syrup, I felt compelled to share with you an email from a friend who used to work with me at the University of Kentucky, but is now employed by her local sanitation department:
I covered the front desk while the regular guy took a break and immediately took two calls that put the Wacky Customer trifecta in play. The circle was complete when a man came in and had to be escorted out by my supervisor.
1) Phone call – a woman (who kept saying, “You’re on” after everything I said) claimed that her b*tch neighbor threw her baby in the dumpster and she didn’t want him to die on her property. I asked her if her infant was still in the dumpster. Oh, it wasn’t a real baby. It was a cat. In a pink carrier. Two days ago. I gave her the number to the scale house at the landfill.
2) Phone call – a man called to say that there was an abandoned couch on the street in front his house, but he was in the county. And the couch was on fire. As a rule, we don’t pick up things that are blazing. Or in the county. I gave him the number to County Sanitation.
3) In person – a man wearing a too-small white t-shirt, too-small navy short shorts and a sailor hat came in yelling that he had a “car” full of recycling and the recycling people said they only take plastic and he has metal. After more yelling, my supervisor took him outside to clarify the situation. He had a shopping cart with a metal bookshelf balanced across it. She asked if he wanted to leave it. He said he wanted to get paid for it. She told him we don’t pay for metal. He said he wished someone had told him that. She told him that she just did. Boy, THEN there was yellin’!!!
This keyboard is full of crumbs. Or something.