No matter how good you are at your job, your manager will always repeat the same phrase: the customer is always right. Reddit user DarklyNear knew exactly what he was doing when he unloaded large, heavy pieces of furniture in his warehouse, but that wasn't enough for his supervisors.
"The customers who picked up their goods always seemed to know better than us warehouse workers. Even worse, the upper management would always take their side rather than defend us.
At first, it was small things: telling us how to bag a lounge chair properly, as they watched and corrected us. Demanding that we open up an item, exposing it to the dirty elements in the warehouse, and then throwing a tantrum and expecting us to clean that item we just unwrapped and then repackage it.
This led to bigger things, like customers abusing us if we wouldn't load up a product, or telling us to hurry up with unloading something... usually resulting in an injury for one of the warehouse workers."
DarklyNear was pragmatic and would always try and reason with customers, but this usually led to them complaining to the head office.
"The head office then released a company-wide email stating that: in every scenario we could imagine, we had to do what the customer said.
Especially when it came to picking up their goods at either a store or warehouse.
The email finished with a morale-boosting statement that if the Area Manager received any feedback or complaints against a worker who contradicted a customer, that worker would be written up with an official warning.
A few weeks later we had a transfer from our interstate warehouse, and included in that transfer was a stack of customer pick-ups.
I signed off on the transfer paper, and the sales associates began calling customers and organizing pickups.
Most of the pickups are going smoothly when a guy pulls in with a battered flatbed truck."
"As he steps out, he's wearing a polo with the collar popped and his greasy hair is slicked all the way back. To complete his total jerk appearance, he's wearing white pants, leading us to dub him 'White Pants McGee' (WPMc).
He scans the warehouse and clicks his fingers at me.
I reluctantly walk over, and he stares at me expectantly.
Me: Yes, sir?
WPMc: You have my sofa.
Me: Are you picking up, sir?
WPMc: Well I won't be picking anything up. You boys are going to load it.
He chuckles as he says this.
Me: Well sir, as the sales associate would have told you, warehouse staff are unable to load anything up, and it's the customer's responsibility--
WPMc: (Cutting me off) Yeah yeah yeah, I'm sure your manager would be furious knowing you cost them a $9,000 sale.
Like I said, he looked like a total jerk. Now he was proving to be an even bigger one in reality."
"I sigh and check the paperwork... this guy has a four-seater sofa bed. Heavy, cumbersome, and definitely too big for the vehicle he's brought.
WPMc sees me checking the paperwork and smirks.
WPMc: Just do what I say, and it'll be easier for all of you.
Me: And what would you like us to do?
WPMc: Load it up, and I'll take it from there.
Me: Okay sir, just sign the paperwork.
WPMc signs off on the pickup and that he's taking responsibility for transporting his goods.
Four other guys and I grab this monster of a sofa and load it up with a little difficulty.
I attempt to see if this guy needs any more help and he snaps at me.
WPMc: I got this, chief. Let me do my thing.
The guy 'salutes us' and jumps into his car, without strapping anything down.
I go to stop him and offer him some straps. But he slams the car into drive and begins driving at breakneck speed towards the exit area and the main road."
"The boys and I watch, holding our breath as White Pants McGee takes a turn at full speed, causing the sofa to kick up a bit... and slam into the side of the truck.
WPMc slams on the brakes as he nears the main road. The sofa kicks up way higher this time, hits the roof of the truck and flips off, hitting the gravel road.
The warehouse erupts in laughter, as a sales associate rushes out to see the commotion.
A few minutes later, the Area Manager is on the phone wanting to know what happened.
I politely explain that the customer asked us to load up and only to load up and that he was happy to take care of the sofa once it was in the back of his truck.
There was a pause. I happily pointed out that I could bring the signed off/completed customer pickup form to the Area Manager's office.
Another long pause and then, quietly: 'Don't bother.'
In the end, White Pants McGee had his brand-new sofa damaged before even made it off the property. Meanwhile, there were no repercussions for us as we did exactly what the customer instructed us to do."