... (sigh), I know I shouldn't call women bitches, but that's who she was. Straight-up truth.
I was getting out of the parking ramp that I now always use when I'm in St. Paul (I was there for the Boys' State High School AA Hockey Final) when I and another car were stuck at the gate. The tickets we need to insert to lift up the arm weren't being taken up by the machines. So I called the intercom and told her, as I was trying to make myself heard through the ambient noise of the ramp and surrounding area, that we were stuck at the gate.
To which this bitch replied, "Can I help you first before you help other people?"
And, well, I just got triggered. I did not take the high road, but with the tone she gave me, the only thing she deserved was tone back. She asked me to read the address, so I went, "It is ... 96 ... 3rd Ave. South!" And when she asked me if I put in the ticket with the stripe up and to the right, I snapped back with a sigh and, "Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees, I put in the ticket with the stripe up and to the riiiiiiight," like I was rolling my eyes at another of my parents' stupid questions.
What was worst of all was this asshole then asking, "Are you sure you're not putting in your receipt and not your ticket?" I told her yes. I should have told her, "Yes, I put in a ticket. Receipts don't have stripes! You keep harping over putting in the ticket with the stripe up and to the left -- how in the hell would I do that with a fucking receipt?! Come on!" After I barked out the ticket number and the price I paid for parking, she finally lifted the arm. I told the ladies in the other car what I did, wished them good luck, thanked them and drove off, hoping that the unneeded thanks I gave the two women (what am I thanking them for?) wasn't taken by the idiot over the intercom as me thanking her.
My God -- customer service, right?
I was getting out of the parking ramp that I now always use when I'm in St. Paul (I was there for the Boys' State High School AA Hockey Final) when I and another car were stuck at the gate. The tickets we need to insert to lift up the arm weren't being taken up by the machines. So I called the intercom and told her, as I was trying to make myself heard through the ambient noise of the ramp and surrounding area, that we were stuck at the gate.
To which this bitch replied, "Can I help you first before you help other people?"
And, well, I just got triggered. I did not take the high road, but with the tone she gave me, the only thing she deserved was tone back. She asked me to read the address, so I went, "It is ... 96 ... 3rd Ave. South!" And when she asked me if I put in the ticket with the stripe up and to the right, I snapped back with a sigh and, "Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees, I put in the ticket with the stripe up and to the riiiiiiight," like I was rolling my eyes at another of my parents' stupid questions.
What was worst of all was this asshole then asking, "Are you sure you're not putting in your receipt and not your ticket?" I told her yes. I should have told her, "Yes, I put in a ticket. Receipts don't have stripes! You keep harping over putting in the ticket with the stripe up and to the left -- how in the hell would I do that with a fucking receipt?! Come on!" After I barked out the ticket number and the price I paid for parking, she finally lifted the arm. I told the ladies in the other car what I did, wished them good luck, thanked them and drove off, hoping that the unneeded thanks I gave the two women (what am I thanking them for?) wasn't taken by the idiot over the intercom as me thanking her.
My God -- customer service, right?
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