So You're Saying There's A Chance....

Hi!  Remember me?  No?  I can't blame you!  I remember you, though.  I've been reading your site, and all the while I haven't been updating mine.  I forgot.  And my computer broke.  And I was held hostage.  And the dog is too much work.  And my husband emailed me and told me to stop blogging.  And...ummm....I was sick?  Never mind.

Let's get right down to business, shall we?  And by business, I mean, listen to what happened in the store today.  First, though, some back-story.  I feel it necessary to give back-story on EVERY story.  This proclivity of mine has the uncanny knack of making every story a really, really long story.  So, with that said and if you dare, off we go!

The store is located right next to a restaurant, a cute little eatery that serves tomato soup and chicken salad and fun little fluffy desserts for the ladies-who-lunch crowd.  The store and the restaurant, years ago, used to be owned by the same people, and were connected by a big, open archway between the businesses.  That way, you could browse the shop while waiting for your table, or go grab a bite after a particularly exhausting dress search.  Nowadays, the archway can be closed off by a big, wrought iron gate we had built a couple of years ago, but we keep the gate doors open throughout lunch hour while the restaurant is open. 

Back in the days when the two businesses were one and the same, they shared a phone number.  Of course once we bought the store (and declined to purchase the cafe, because HOLY CRAP I think I would kill myself if I had to run a restaurant; you people who do so AMAZE me), we changed the phone number.  Rather, we got the phone number that previously served as a rollover number when line one was busy.  Anyway, we have our own phone number.  Our phone number is not the same as the eatery's phone number.  Is that clear?  Because it needs to be clear in order for the rest of this story to make any sense.

The little eatery has gone through three ownership changes since we've owned the store.  And at no point in time have we been involved in any way with those ownership changes.  We don't own the restaurant.  I have nothing to do with the restaurant.  In fact, I have just as much affiliation with that restaurant as I do with, say, Williams Sonoma.  That being NONE WHATSOEVER.  To make things even less complicated, neither of our phone numbers have changed even once throughout all of this mess.  So if you ever knew the number to the restaurant, at any point in time, and called it today, you would still reach the restaurant.  Easy, right?

It makes no sense, then, that people would constantly call my store, and ask for the restaurant's daily specials.  It makes no sense, and yet it happens EVERY SINGLE DAY.  Now, this is not that big of a deal.  Please let me express, I recognize that on a scale of Things That Actually Matter, this ranks very low.  However, it is mildly annoying to be right in the middle of a dress fitting and then have drop all your straight pins in a mad rush to get the phone, only to have the caller ask you whether or not she can get a CARTON of chicken salad because last week the CUP just wasn't enough.  Also, the caller continues, why are we skimping on the number of grapes included in the chicken salad?  Because maybe I don't know it, but she has been counting the grapes, and every week there are less and less except for LAST week, but she's pretty sure that was just a fluke because that very same day, Edna's salad had hardly ANY.  And lest you think I am joking or exaggerating about this, please be advised.  I AM TONING IT DOWN.

It matters not that I (explicitly) inform the caller of my non-affiliation with the restaurant, and thus, the number of grapes in the restaurant's chicken salad.  The store and the restaurant were the same place at one time, years ago, and in the hearts and souls of 75 year old women all over East Texas, well, THAT'S GOOD ENOUGH.  I should get myself right back there in that kitchen and dole out some more grapes.  And stop being so cheap.  Did I think she wouldn't notice that the price on the hot plate raised another 25 cents?  I ought to be ashamed.

I usually end these calls by repeating, over and over, the telephone number of the restaurant.  Seriously.  I just keep saying those 10 numbers, verbatim, like a robot.  Sometimes the caller catches on.  Usually they don't.  If it's something really important, like a reservation for a Red Hat Society luncheon or something, and they just can't get the concept that I AM NOT THE RESTAURANT, I will run over to the eatery and inform them of the reservation.   No harm, no foul.   

However, sometimes we get callers who seem to have nothing better to do with their time than page through the phone book, calling numbers that look like they MIGHT have something to do with the caller's current query.  In this vein, we have gotten questions about candles, candle making, pottery, beeswax, vintage liquor bottles, shower curtains, pajamas, makeup bags, horseshoes, luggage, and concrete stain.  Just to name a few.  Today, though, we got a call that really took the cake.  And not cake that I sell, either.  I AM NOT A RESTAURANT.

Today's call was about angels.  Not actual angels, although that would have been only slightly less strange than this call ended up being.  It was about Hallmark Angels.   I just now looked up that link, and wow!  Hallmark has a lot of angels.  She probably should have just called Hallmark.  I know, I know, THAT IS CRAZY TALK. 

The call actually started with a request for today's lunch special.  When I informed her, in the rote, scripted tone my voice tends to take when asked such questions, that Iamnottherestauranthereisthierphonenumber, she interrupted me, saying this:

"Well, good, I didn't REALLY need to talk to them, anyway."

What?  This is starting off poorly.  I can't think of a single time I have made a phone call to someone I didn't really need to talk to for some reason or another.  Plenty of calls where I didn't WANT to talk to the person, but that's a different thing altogether.  After she informed me that she never really needed the daily special in the first place, I hoped our conversation would come to a quick end.  This was not to be.

"Do you carry angels?" 

I informed her that we do not.  She asked whether or not the restaurant carried angels. 

"I don't think they do, ma'am, but here is their number; you'll probably want to check with them to be sure."

"Well, don't you KNOW whether or not you carry them?"

"Yes, I sure do, and we, the STORE, do NOT carry angels.  I don't have any affiliation with the restaurant, and don't know for certain what they do and do not carry.  Since they primarily serve food, I would imagine they don't have angels.  But I'd hate to lead you astray, so your best bet would be to give them a call."

"Hmm.  This isn't the kind of customer service I'm used to from your type of establishment.  I just can't understand not having a basic knowledge of your own inventory!"

"Ummm....yeah.  Sorry about that."

"Well, maybe you can help me anyway,"

At this point, I am fairly certain that I will never, ever be able to help this woman.  She rallies forward anyway.

"You see, dear, I'm looking for a certain kind of angel.  It's kind of wooden, and painted, but not COMPLETELY painted; I'm thinking maybe it's more of a wash?  Maybe kind of like watercolor.  I took a watercolor class once, and some of the techniques we did remind me of what this angel looks like."

Gotcha.  I need to help you locate an angel you saw somewhere, once, in the probably 65+ years you have walked this planet.  It's wooden, probably, and reminds you of a watercolor class.  This is looking promising.

"So, do you have any of those angels?"

I inform her again, that we do not.   In fact, we don't even carry angels!  Imagine!

"Well, where should I go to find one?"

"Umm, I really don't know.  Have you tried (I list several stores here, everyone I can think of who might carry wood or wood-substitute slightly-colored angelic beings)?"

"Yes, of COURSE I have thought of them.  They don't carry these angels!"

Ah.  I apparently should have already known that.

"I think I saw them once, at some kind of lovely store; a store that sold pretty cards.  I bought a card there for my sister, because she was going through some poor health and you just couldn't BEAR to be around her, but then she's family, you know."

I'm running through obscure card stores in my head.  I ask her if the store was in Tyler.  She thinks it might have been.  Or maybe it was Oklahoma.  Wonderful.

"Was it at X card store?  Y card store?  How about Z generic-but-fancy gift store?"

No, no, and no, she answers in the negative to each suggestion I make, and is getting increasingly aggravated at my obvious lack of knowledge about WOOD or WOOD-LIKE angel manufacturers.  I am getting somewhat annoyed that there are actual customers in my store, sane and pleasant people who genuinely want something I actually stock.  And they're all getting ignored.

"Well, I'm sorry ma'am, but I just don't know where you would find an angel like that.  I do know that we don't have them, and I'm not sure where you might have seen the angel in the first place.  Good luck with your search though."

"Wait!  Aren't you going to help me locate the angel?  It's for a gift!  My niece is graduating and I just know she'll love the angel.  It suits her perfectly."

As I'm pondering just how to express that no, I am not going to help her find this angel that she may or may not have imagined in the first place, and also that her high-school niece probably does not care two ways from Sunday about getting an angel for a gift, and would much rather like an envelope of cash, a thought comes to mind.  It seems too obvious to work, but I am getting desperate.

"Hallmark!  Have you tried Hallmark?  They are a card store, and I think they have angels, and ornamental things like that."

"Hall Marked, you say?  Where is Hall Marked?"

I explain the name, in all its difficulties, and where she might find a store, i.e., the mall.

"The mall?  I hadn't even considered the mall.  Well, how am I going to know if the mall has my angel?"

I suggest that she call the Hallmark store and, you know.  Ask.

"Well, I have never even BEEN there!  How will I find their number?"

At this point, I am just completely baffled by the conversation.  How does it happen, that an old lady dreams up some wood-like angel, calls me, begs for information on the location of said angel, all while simultaneously insulting my customer service skills and intelligence?  And now she is asking me how to find their number.  It's too much.  It's all just a little too much.

"Well, how did you find MY number?"

"I've known it for years.  In the past, I wouldn't have had to go through such an ordeal with a young lady over the phone just to get some help."

"Well, you can find Hallmark's number in the phone book."

"Good.  Can you please look it up for me and let me know?  I need to call them right away to make sure they have the angel.  What if they need to order it?  Can you help me with that?"

OH. MY. GOSH.  At this point, I have lost it.

"Ma'am.  I cannot and will not be able to help you with any Hallmark products.  We are not affiliated with Hallmark in any way whatsoever.  I can't help you any further.  I am going to have to hang up now."

"Young lady, I cannot believe you are REFUSING to help me with my purchase.  I demand to be connected with Hallmark, immediately!"

"Really?  REALLY?  Ok fine.  That's fine.  Actually, no, that's great.  Hold on, and I'll transfer you."

I haven't heard back from her yet.  I wonder if she's still holding.

Comments

[heather]

willowtree/willowbark/willowcrap angels? i don't know. we got one as a wedding present and i sold it in the garage sell exactly two weeks after we got married.

man, elise, i am SORRY.

uh, also, i sent you messages and um... nothing. ahem.

real though, i'm sorry more than anything.

also, i'm really hoping that wasn't my grandma, calling from WEST texas.

[Devi]

This reminds me of the party pants story but 100 times worse. People amaze me sometimes.

[janet]

wow, you have about a thousand times the patience that the rest of us have. that lady sounds crazy and not in the good way!

[Hoover]

Maybe Real Cody is right - you should stop blogging.

Because at the moment it seems highly unlikely that you will ever be able to top this post.

[kyle]

brilliant. another reason i hate people.

incidentally, do you know where i can find a new power supply for my printer? do some searching if you would, and if you find one, just go ahead and buy it. with your money.

[Helen]

Thast old lady sounds like my Isaac, sometimes he just can't get NO into his brain, he keeps on keeping on until I swear my ears are bleeding. He's autistic, wonder what the old lady's excuse is. I love to think of her hanging on waiting to be transferred. What patience you have! Maybe you need to tape some elevator music and just play that when the restaurant crankies call!

[wordgirl]

OH MY FREAKING GAWD! That is so incredibly funny and...at the same time...aggravating. This hits home on so many fronts. Of course, there's the people who don't listen when you give them infomation. Then...old people who think that they can ask for anything and you, being young, have to give it to them. Then...there are the ignorant people who insist that you are simply being obstinant for not helping them out of their own stuppidity. I would have hung up long before you did. I have no patience with stuff like this.

[wordgirl]

OH MY FREAKING GAWD! That is so incredibly funny and...at the same time...aggravating. This hits home on so many fronts. Of course, there's the people who don't listen when you give them infomation. Then...old people who think that they can ask for anything and you, being young, have to give it to them. Then...there are the ignorant people who insist that you are simply being obstinant for not helping them out of their own stuppidity. I would have hung up long before you did. I have no patience with stuff like this. I mean...you're not a PHONE OPERATOR. Why does she think this is your job?

[Jay]

OH my god, I just want you to curl up so I can pet you after that. Poor thing. That's sheer craziness!

[Lauren]

That is hilarious.

[Code]

So, getting back to your original point.......why are you putting fewer grapes into the chicken salad?

[stu]

well I feel your pain. People call us all the time thinking that we are the district and want to know if they have filed their homestead exemption yet or not. Most of the time I give them the districts phone number but only if they are nice.

[kyle]

so you're saying there's a chance.... that you might post again sometime soon???

:-D