No ID-ea Who Is Hiding Under There
(A coworker and I are working under our walk-up counter; we’re running cables for a new computer station. I overhear a customer talking to the tiny freshman girl working above us at the counter.)
Customer: “I’m here to pick up my laptop.”
Female Coworker: “Okay, it looks like it’s all paid up. I just need to see your ID.”
Customer: “What? Why?”
Female Coworker: “I just need to verify it’s your computer.”
Customer: “Well I don’t have my ID. Just give it to me.”
Female Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t—”
(There are the sounds of quick struggle. She steps back holding the laptop.)
Female Coworker: “Sir, you can’t take the laptop without ID! Now you need to leave or I will have to have you escorted out.”
(I pop up to see what’s going on. The customer looks at me and laughs.)
Customer: “Him? This little b**** is going to escort me out? I’d love to see that!”
Me: “She didn’t mean me…”
(My other co-worker, who was still under the desk, grabs the edge of the counter and hauls his 300lb. self up to his full imposing 6’6″ height.)
Me: “…she meant him.”
(The customer’s face goes pale.)
Customer: “Uh… um… so, I can just come back with my ID and pick that up, then?”
Giant Coworker: “Yes, sir. Feel free to ask for me if you have any more problems.”
Customer: “No! Er, I mean, no; I can’t imagine there’d be any more problems.”
(We now joke that we should keep our giant under the desk for all such issues.)



