Stunned. I hold the phone to my ear as she yells that it was my fault. I didn’t explain things to her daughter’s satisfaction. Her twenty-one year old daughter did not understand that a down payment means you have to pay that money. She yells that my staff did not present the information prior to the procedure and that this is all my fault. She yells, I listen. Stunned.
I have owned my small business for sixteen years now so very little surprises me. Maintaining my composure, my only response is to quietly say, I am sorry that is your opinion of the circumstances. “FUCK YOU.” Click.
She proceeds to call back several times continuously demanding to speak to the “director of the facility”. When I place the phone back to my ear, she explains that she had spoken to a lawyer (in the past two minutes since her last call) and that she is suing. She rambles on and on about how awful we are. Specifically, how awful I am. I sit and listen without response. She rambles on about harms and wants to know the exact order of things. I listen.
In the meantime her daughter has left the office. She was lovely. She was kind. I had personally greeted her and had espoused how nice it was to see her back, having seen her during her first visit. As she left, she thanked us and we kindly said goodbye.
As her mother raked me over the coals, I finally took a deep breath. Her screaming profanities, series of hanging up and calling back, and relentless nastiness had taken its toll. My final thoughts could no longer be held within so I simply replied, “I have to say, your daughter is kind and absolutely lovely. I can’t for the life of me figure out how she came out of your body.” Click.