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    Surviving Their Snipes

    , | ACT, Australia | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Technology

    (My fiancé’s birthday is coming up. As game and console collectors we often browse game stores, but mostly we go to a particular second-hand game store where we find some real old treasures and odd things we don’t see very often, and have become regulars. A few days earlier he had spotted a sniper game for the Wii which comes with a full-sized fake sniper rifle that you mount the Wii remote on, but we didn’t buy it due to lack of funds during a billing period. While he goes to work a few days later I go to pick it up for him as a birthday surprise. As this is a second hand store, what people sell to the store is what the store has. There is no inventory of several of an item unless several were sold to them. Two rough looking men are outside the store as I walk in. I tell the lady working what I want to buy. The two men walk in and hover over the sniper game eagerly, just as the lady serving me takes it out of the display cabinet to pack up for me.)

    Rough Man #1: “Hey! What are you doing? We saw it first!”

    Rough Man #2: “Yeah! That’s ours! Don’t you dare sell that to HER!”

    Cashier: “Sorry, it’s being sold to this customer. We unfortunately don’t have any more in stock at the moment until someone else may sell us theirs. I’m terribly sorry.”

    Rough Man #1: “But we saw it first! We have a right to have it first!” *to me* “You can’t buy it. Give it up!”

    Rough Man #2: “Yeah! Give it up! The rules are the first who see it has a RIGHT to buy first! We override your rights!”

    Me: “Nope, sorry. This is for my fiancé’s birthday. I’m buying it regardless of if you saw it first or not. Whoever enquires first is the early bird. Maybe you can find one online.”

    Rough Man #1: “B****! You can’t do that!” *to the cashier* “You better not give it to her! It’s OURS! We have more of a right to it than her! Don’t you dare f****** sell it to her!”

    (At this point the cashier serving me looks a bit frightened. I don’t move from my post in front of her, being protective of both her and my fiancé’s gift as both of the men approach behind me very closely. I feel very wary as they both stand there trying to look as tall as possible, loudly swearing at me, muttering horrid names under their breaths at me. It doesn’t work and even though I feel scared, I stand my ground because I am not one to keel over to rude people, especially when I am buying gifts for loved ones and when they’re scaring others around me.)

    Rough Man #1: “You stupid s***, don’t be a f****** b**** and hand it over. It’s OURS and we’re buying it!”

    Me: “No way. It belongs to my fiancé. I’ll be walking out of here with it. My fiancé saw this days ago and I WILL be giving it to him for his birthday. Why don’t you find one elsewhere? This one is taken.”

    (I purchased it. All the while they were calling me every name in the book and trying to scare me as I stood tall, even though inside I was scared that they might get violent. The transaction went through, approved. I got my receipt, wished the lady serving me a good day, gave her a look that said to stay safe, and I left victoriously, tightly clutching the gift. I was still scared, though, as I was shopping alone, and made sure to quickly get on my bus home before they saw which direction I went. My fiancé was so happy with his gift, and thinks I’m tough as anything for standing up for myself.)

    I Didn’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here

    | Langley, BC, Canada | Bad Behavior, Theme Of The Month

    (I’m just shopping, when another customer comes by to ask me a question.)

    Customer: “Hey, how much is this?”

    Me: “I don’t know.”

    Customer: “You don’t know?! You work here, don’t you?!”

    Me: “No, I don’t work here.”

    Customer: *muttering* “God-d*** it, no one f****** works here. Can’t find any god-d*** help anywhere.”

    (The customer walks away, and I figure that is the end of that. Fast-forward a few months later: I need a job, and I just so happen to end up working for this very same store. On my first week I am feeling rather chipper and enthusiastic about helping customers.)

    Me: “Hello, sir, is there anything I can help you with today?”

    Customer: “I thought you didn’t work here! Were you being a lazy s*** back then?!”

    (Yep. Same customer.)

    Related:
    I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 16
    I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 15
    I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 14

    An Eye-Catching Lesson

    | USA | Bad Behavior, Health & Body

    (I was born with congenital glaucoma, a condition that causes blindness if left untreated. As such, I went through several surgeries as a child and have mostly corrected vision with glasses, although one eye is still a little damaged. Because of these surgeries, my eyes are extremely unique-looking and sometimes startle people – some of them do make comments, but they’re mostly harmless and more curious than anything else. I’ve lived with this disease all my life, so I’m very open and frequently joke about it, but I still get very sensitive when people try to put me on the spot or harass me about it. On this particular day, a customer comes up and places a box of shoes on my register.)

    Me: “Good morning, sir. How are you today?”

    Customer: “Just fine. And yourself?”

    Me: “Doing great.”

    (It’s company policy to check shoe sizes and styles to make sure the customer leaves with a matching pair. Because of my condition, I’m extremely near-sighted without my glasses, which is perfect for reading the small tags on shoes.)

    Me: *takes off glasses and begins checking shoes*

    Customer: *laughs* “You either eat more carrots or put your glasses back on.”

    (Normally, I’m fine with joking about my eyesight, but I get very sensitive when people make fun of it.)

    Me: *continues checking shoes* “Sir, glaucoma chose me, not the other way around.”

    Customer: “Oh…”

    (I looked up in time to see the blood drain from the man’s face and his expression turn sheepish. He apologized profusely, which I accepted, and left quietly. I smiled on the inside, knowing that I’ve taught someone a small lesson about judging someone with glasses.)

    This Customer Is Soda-pressing

    | VA, USA | Bad Behavior, Food & Drink

    (I am a barista at a famous, internationally known coffee shop and working at the cash register. The company at the moment only sells coffee-related drinks, ‘frappuccinos,’ teas, and other caffeine/coffee related products for drinks.)

    Me: “Good morning, ma’am! And what can I get for you?”

    Customer: “I’d like a ham artisan sandwich.”

    Me: “All right, and anything to drink?

    Customer: “And I want a diet [Soda].”

    Me: *thinking that I misheard her* “I’m sorry, ma’am, what did you say?”

    Customer: “I SAID I want a diet [Soda].”

    Me: “Oh, um, I’m sorry, ma’am; we don’t… carry that here.”

    Customer: *looks at me with both eyebrows raised, incredulously* “You don’t carry soda?”

    Me: “No, ma’am.”

    Customer: *throws her head back, scoffing* “That’s ridiculous! Fine, then I’ll just have a…” *looks at the menu* “I’ll just have a coffee then.”

    Me: “All right, just a coffee? Would you like the medium blend? Or a different brew?” *we have a light, medium, dark, and decaf at the ready right behind me*

    Customer: *scoffs again* “Just a coffee! Whatever!”

    Me: “All right, one medium coffee. Anything else?”

    Customer: “That’s all!” *she looks at her friend/coworker the whole time as if this was all a tiring exchange*

    Making Universal University Assumptions

    | USA | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, School

    (I am in college and working full-time as the receptionist for a car repair shop to pay my way. Because I don’t always have customers calling or coming in, the management allows me to bring my homework with me, provided I can put it down immediately when someone phones or comes in. I am 21 and look very young for my age. One older customer walks in and looks down at the book on the desk while I’m pulling her file.)

    Customer: “Does your teacher know you’re skipping class?”

    Me: “Well… this is just my homework. Now, about your car—”

    Customer: “What? High schools don’t have class at night. Is it even legal for you to be here?”

    Me: “Actually, I’m in college. I’m 21; I just look a lot younger than I am.”

    Customer: “Do not lie to me, young lady. You should be ashamed of yourself. Skipping class and lying. Does your manager know this?”

    Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I’m not in high school. And I’m working on my schoolwork here, so I’m obviously not trying to ditch schoolwork. Now, if I can get you to sign these papers here, we’ll get the estimator to come and—”

    Customer: “Nonsense! You’re just trying to get out of responsibility, and now that I’ve caught you, you’re trying to distract me by talking about my car! You young people dropping out of school is what is causing the economy issues we’re having!”

    (I quietly flip over the book to show her the cover, which lists the state university name, as well as a college-level class name.)

    Customer: “What forms did you need me to fill out?”

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