Several years ago, I got the chance to participate in a plus-size fashion showcase as a model. This was my first — and so far only — modeling gig, and even for getting into the show, I was still majorly nervous.

Mind you, I had plenty of support! My husband and the rest of my family all thought this was a cool opportunity and were happy for me, and my fellow models, especially those who did this for a living, were encouraging and sweet. On top of that, we were getting to model gorgeous pieces from some stores that I really like.

However, my nerves came to a head at my second fitting. Picking out my outfit to represent [Store #1] was very easy, but at [Store #2], nothing seemed to be working. I’m not only plump, but I’m short, and even with my show-day heels on, the pieces I was trying on just didn’t seem to sit right.

Our fashion coordinator, who did final sign-offs on the outfits we would wear, must have seen my frustration, because she called me over and pulled a sleeveless purple jumpsuit off the rack, along with a faux fur coat.

Coordinator: “Let’s give this a try, okay?”

I changed into the jumpsuit, and I looked at myself in the mirror. I loved the color, but again, the fit didn’t seem right. [Coordinator] seemed enthusiastic, but I was now in a pessimistic mood.

Coordinator: “We’ve got the right look here, especially once you put on the coat.”

Me: “Ugh, I just don’t know! I’m not feeling it!”

[Coordinator] rolled her eyes a bit, but the next comment was delivered with kindness.

Coordinator: “[My Name], this is my job. Do you really believe that I would let you onto the runway in an outfit that I wasn’t 100 percent certain of?”

For whatever reason, that was the comment that finally helped calm my nerves. And of course, she ended up being right. With the coat, the outfit was sensational, and I got MANY cheers when I walked in that particular outfit at the show!

It’s my first day as a freshman at a college a few hours away from my family, and it also happens to be my nineteenth birthday! A friend of mine has just given me a large cookie cake with “Happy Birthday” written on it in large letters and is introducing me to some fellow freshmen she met during orientation.

One of the guys comes over to me and sees my cookie cake.

Guy: “Oh, nice cake! Is it your birthday today?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m nineteen today!”

Guy: “Cool. Mine is tomorrow, actually.” *Jokingly* “Do you think I could get a piece of that cake?”

Me: *Laughs out loud* “Sure!” 

And that’s the story I tell my children of how I met their father — and lured him in with a giant cookie!

I work for an amusement park that has a large green replica of the Eiffel Tower. I work at the stands at the base of the tower, right outside the shops.

Guest: “Do you have one of them paper things that shows you where things are?”

Me: “Do you mean a map?”

Guest: “Yeah, one of them map things!”

Me: “I don’t, but the store behind me does.”

He goes in, comes out with the map, and asks:

Guest: “Do you know where that Eiffel Tower thingy is?”

I don’t say anything and just point behind him.

I explain this encounter to a coworker later, who happens to be German. 

Coworker: “Oh, forgetting the name of something I can understand. In Germany, we call it ‘Sprachenkrise’ which I guess in English means ‘language crisis’. Once, I couldn’t remember the word ‘cemetery’, so I made do with ‘sadness park’.”

I am the author of the Stab Caesar Salad/Drug Grandma stories, and it’s time for another episode of this saga. Buckle up; this one’s a doozy. 

Grandma is almost ninety-four, and she’s sharp as a tack, but she’s an expert at playing stupid. She is super manipulative and really bad at handling her money. When she moved in with us, she was drowning in credit card debt. My dad, realizing he would be responsible for that debt if she died, immediately took control of her debit card, canceled all of her credit cards, and consolidated her debt. He then worked with her and managed to get it paid off.

Grandma was offended when none of the credit card companies sent her a thank-you card after she paid off her debt even though she was a “loyal customer that they know personally.”

Dad uses her debit card to pay for things like her prescriptions, special food she wants, copays on doctor visits, etc. He does not allow her to shop on [TV Shopping Network] anymore, and despite what she tells people, he does let her get a few things she wants — but only after her needs are taken care of.

My uncle is just as bad with money. He retired early, spent a few years traveling around America until he ran out of money, and now resides on his daughter’s couch. 

[Uncle] takes Grandma to her doctor’s appointments while my dad is working. Dad always gives [Uncle] Grandma’s debit card for the expenses. [Uncle] always has my cousin’s dog with him so he doesn’t have to go inside the doctor’s office with Grandma, and he gives her the debit card. She always gives it back when she’s done, and my dad gets it back when they get home. It’s a good system.

One day, we get some packages that are addressed to “Grandma [Last Name].” Only my cousin sends her packages with “Grandma” written on them instead of her first name. They are mega-expensive vitamins that Grandma saw in a commercial on TV claiming to be the best, and since commercials never lie, she had to have them. This wouldn’t be the first time she manipulated my cousin into buying her something either she already had at home or my dad had said no to for whatever reason.

My mom is pissed because Grandma makes her special-order vitamins that aren’t available in stores, and further questioning reveals that Grandma wants to be on both vitamins at the same time. Did she ask us to get her these new vitamins? No. Why?

Grandma: “I knew you would’ve just said no.”

Over the next week, several more packages of various expensive junk arrive addressed to “Grandma [Last Name].” We are confused. My dad calls my cousin, but she says she hasn’t bought Grandma any of that stuff.

Then, my dad gets the statement for Grandma’s debit card. One time, while at the doctor’s office, when my uncle was waiting in the car, she wrote down her debit card number on a scrap piece of paper and hid it. Dad and Grandma get into a huge argument that boils down to:

Grandma: “It’s my money! I should be able to spend it how I want!”

Dad: “Blowing your money on stupid s*** is how you got into debt in the first place!”

Grandma: “Well, I’m going to call my social worker and my lawyer, and they’ll make you give me complete control of my money!”

Dad: “You don’t have a lawyer!”

Grandma: “Then I’ll hire one!”

Dad: “You have no money!”

Grandma: “They’ll do it for free!”

This went on for almost half an hour. I removed the name-calling that was mostly done by my grandmother. She truly believed that she could get a lawyer to take her case for free (or nearly free) and she would win. Surprising no one, we never got a visit from a lawyer about this. Grandma could not understand why we were all mad at her. We were kind of hoping she would make good on her threat and call social services and they would take her away. 

Two or three weeks later, a social worker showed up at our house. (The social worker actually tried to visit earlier, but Dad was in a meeting at work and asked her to come back later.) Grandma actually called them, though she claimed ignorance. No one believed her and she didn’t understand why. The social worker talked to Grandma, and then she talked to my dad and came back with this:

Social Worker: “We can’t get her into a home permanently, but we can get her into one for a two-week period so you and your family can have a break from her.”

For whatever reason, my dad did not take her up on this offer.

Related:
We Should Totally Just Lock Grandma In The Bathroom (Not Really)
We Should Totally Just Drown Our Salads
We Should Totally Just Drug Grandma! (Not Really), Part 2
We Should Totally Just Drug Grandma! (Not Really)
We Should Totally Just Stab Caesar! (Salad), Part 2

One day, a customer comes in to pick up her car. I estimate her to be about eighteen years old, and she’s with another girl — I’m guessing her sister — who is probably about sixteen years old. I find her ticket and tell her the total, which is about $6,000. Service is actually closed at this point in the day, and only Sales is still open.

Customer: “Do you take Apple Pay?”

Me: “Yes.”

The customer taps her phone, and the machine prompts her to type in her PIN. For whatever reason, our credit card machine will not let you bypass the PIN when using the tap feature. You have to have the card physically inserted into the machine in order to bypass the PIN. Why? I don’t know. I have gotten a lot of grief from customers about how “other places let me do it,” but I don’t make the rules.

Me: “Type in your PIN.”

Customer: “Can I bypass it?”

Me: “Unfortunately, you can’t bypass the PIN when you tap. You would have to insert the card.”

Customer: “I don’t have the card; I only have what’s on my phone. I don’t carry physical cards around.”

Me: “Then you will have to put in the PIN.”

Customer: “But I don’t want to.”

Me: “The machine won’t let you bypass it because you tapped.”

The customer presses the green button, which causes the machine to beep.

Me: “It’s actually red for credit—”

The customer presses the red button, and the transaction is canceled. I type in the total again, she taps her phone, and again it asks for the PIN. This time, she puts in the PIN. However, a declined message pops up on the screen.

Me: “Unfortunately, that declined.”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “It doesn’t tell me why, but it’s probably because of your spending limit. You’ll have to call your bank and ask them for a one-time limit increase.”

This happens all the time when customers are putting down payments for a car on their credit cards. The number of people who believe that they do not have a spending limit is way too high. It’s not a big deal, and a quick call to the bank usually resolves the issue.

Customer: “Run it again.”

Me: “It’s going to decline. You need to call your bank.”

Customer: “I have the money. Run it again.”

I put the total in the machine. She taps her phone and puts in the PIN, and it declines.

Me: “You need to call your bank. It’s probably the spending limit.”

Customer: “No. Run it again.”

Me: “It’s going to keep declining. You need to call your bank.”

Customer: “Just run it again.”

Me: “You have to call your bank.”

Customer: “Run it again.”

At this point, I stop caring. If she wants to lock her card doing this, then that’s on her. She makes me run her card about five more times. Every time, I tell her to call the bank, but she refuses.

After about fifteen minutes of this, she finally calls the bank. She does this at the window, so I can hear everything she says. After confirming her information, I hear her say, “I’m not in Florida.” This catches my attention because our brand is based out of Florida. We are actually the only dealership in the group that is not in Florida. However, the chief financial officer wants us to use the main Florida address for our banking information so they can keep an eye on us. This has caused some fraud alerts for customers in the past, but the banks are usually good once they realize the situation, and thankfully, it doesn’t happen that often.

Me: “We’re based in Florida, so if it’s showing [address], then that’s correct.”

The customer relays this information to her bank, and eventually, they tell her to try it again. She hangs up, and we try the card again, but it still declines.

Customer: “Run it again.”

Me: “You need to call your bank back.”

Rinse and repeat a few times. Yes, I try running it once or twice, but it declines every time.

Customer: “Can I just wire you the money?”

I page a manager to come over since that has to be a manager’s decision. A sales manager comes over. The sales managers are always reluctant to approve anything regarding parts or service because those aren’t their departments, and they don’t like approving wire transfers for their own department. Sure enough, the sales manager tells her that he will not authorize a wire transfer. After a few more rounds of “Call your bank” and “No, I don’t want to” with the manager, she calls her bank back and talks to them for a while. The sales manager sticks around.

Customer: “They say it’s your bank causing the issue.”

Sales Manager: “We use [Major Bank Brand #1]. What bank do you use?”

Customer: “[Major Bank Brand #2]. Your bank is the problem.”

Sales Manager: “People come in all the time and pay for stuff with cards from them, and we’ve never had this issue before.”

Customer: “Well, they said it’s your bank that’s causing the problem.”

I think it’s because she made me run her card a hundred times and it’s now locked, but I keep my mouth shut.

Sales Manager: “Do you have another card you can use? Because we can’t release the vehicle until it’s paid for.”

Customer: “No. I can’t just wire you the money?”

Sales Manager: “Unfortunately not. Do you know someone else with a card and you can wire them the money?”

The customer calls her dad, who gives us his card number over the phone. Thankfully, it works. I give her the keys and send her on her way. This whole transaction has taken over forty-five minutes.

Sales Manager: “I’ve never heard of major issues like this from [Major Bank Brand #2].”

Me: “I bank with [Major Bank Brand #2], and I’ve used my card here before. It’s probably because she made me run her card a million times without calling the bank.”

Sales Manager: “Yep, that’ll do it.”

This isn’t the first customer to not believe me when I say they need to call their bank, but she took the longest to admit defeat. I don’t understand why customers don’t believe me. We want your money; what do I gain by lying to you about something like this?