Totally Estúpido! Part 12

, , , , , | Right | August 5, 2020

I have been working at my local car dealership for about two weeks as a cashier. I am eighteen and a high school graduate, but my small size makes me appear much younger — maybe around twelve. On this particular day, a pair of customers consisting of a middle-aged Caucasian woman and a younger Hispanic gentleman approaches my counter. It should be noted that I took three years of Spanish in school.

Me: “Hi there! Your total is just going to be [amount] today.”

I smile. The young man hands me his credit card, and his companion starts speaking to him as I process the transaction.

Woman: *In Spanish* “Wow… she’s just a little girl! I can’t believe places like these are hiring children these days. They must be really understaffed. That child should be in school, not working some dead-end job like this.”

The man doesn’t reply but looks slightly uncomfortable. I finish ringing them up wordlessly and wish them a good afternoon as they depart, the man smiling gratefully and the woman scowling. After they have left, I tell my coworker what has transpired.

Coworker: “They really said that?”

Me: “Yup. I understood every word; I took three years of Spanish in high school.”

Coworker: *Laughing* “Wow! If they’d known you spoke Spanish, I’m sure she never would have said something like that.”

Other Coworker: *Just walking in* “Next time, look them dead in the eyes and say, in Spanish, ‘Thanks for bringing your car into [Shop] to be serviced today. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon!'”

While I hope this was only a one-time occurrence, at least now I have a backup plan if it isn’t!

Related:
Totally Estupido, Part 11
Totally Estupido, Part 10
Totally Estupido, Part 9
Totally Estupido, Part 8

Vanilliver

, , , , | Right | August 5, 2020

A middle-aged woman comes up to my register and puts her items on the belt. She is acting very strangely and is obviously under the influence of an illegal substance. She places a purple can of cat food in front of me and looks at me very seriously.

Customer: “Hmm, uh, um…”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “Do you know, um… this is… is this vanilla?”

Me: *Dumbfounded* “Um… no. This appears to be liver. I don’t think we sell vanilla.”

Customer: “Oh, I wanted the vanilla one.”

Me: “Yeah, I really don’t think we carry vanilla. Do you still want this one?”

Customer: “Oh, sure.”

I rang her out without further incident. None of my coworkers I told had any thoughts on the mysterious “vanilla cat food.”

Time Is Very Little Money

, , , , , | Right | August 5, 2020

I’m picking up some assorted foods at the local big box grocery store on my way home from a meeting. I recall my wife has asked me to pick up a roll of “that sushi with the fake crab and the avocado,” i.e., a California roll.

As I pick up an avocado roll for myself along with her California roll, I notice a sign advertising sushi as 10% off. When I get to the checkout, I notice — on the screen, before I’ve paid — that the California roll has rung in as 10% off, but the avocado roll didn’t. When pointing this out to the cashier, she quite politely informs me:

Cashier: “I’m not sure why that happened, but I can get my supervisor to check into it.”

Me: “It’s forty-two cents on a $60 grocery bill. I think I’ll survive.”

She looks at me as if I have three heads.

Cashier: “I wish I had more customers like you. I once had a customer tie me up for half an hour over a nickel, and she ended up being wrong in the end.”

Minimum wage in Nova Scotia is $10.15 an hour, making my $0.42 worth a maximum of four minutes if you take income taxes into account. That woman’s nickel was worth about thirty seconds, not thirty minutes.

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Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 43

, , , , , , | Right | August 5, 2020

It’s 2012 and I’m working a slow night shift at our deli. A customer comes and asks a question about a meat I’m unsure if we carry, so I ask a senior coworker if we do. While she goes off to check, I stay to chat with the customer. Gam, I immediately recognize the game she’s playing.

Me: “Ma’am, may I ask what your daughter is playing?”

She looks to her daughter.

Customer: “Oh, I’m not sure. [Daughter], what are you playing?”

Customer’s Daughter: *Looks up* Pokémon Crystal. My older brother let me play.”

Me: “That’s an awesome older brother you have! I wish my older brother would have been nice enough to let me play his systems; I needed to get my own just to play! Who’s your favorite Pokémon?”

Customer’s Daughter: “Pikachu!”

Me: “Awesome! Mine, too! I know it’s a bit of a reach, but high-five me!”

I reached over the tall service counter to give the girl a high-five, which she returned. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the meat her mom was looking for, but I’ll never forget that little girl and her nice older brother, letting her play games from a generation gone-by!

Related:
Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 42
Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 41
Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 40
Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 39
Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 38

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A Deserving Comeback

, , , | Right | August 5, 2020

I work at the front counter at a very popular and international chain of fast food restaurants. Being that most people hate dealing with customers, I am the only one on the front counter.

The store suddenly gets busy and a man walks up to order one vanilla cone. I take his order and then a few others before noticing his impatience at not getting his cone yet. Being a multitasker, I turn around to make his cone. However, the ice cream comes out a little melted and I have to put a few napkins around the cone to stop any dripping.

Me: “Here you go, sir! Sorry about the wait; it just got a little busy in here. Have nice day!”

Customer: “Yeah, thanks.”

He takes one look at the cone, pulls a face of sheer anger, and throws it on the counter.

Customer: “Take your d*** cone; I don’t want this piece of s***!”

He then storms out, leaving me and the other customers utterly bewildered as to what just happened. Some of my coworkers have noticed, too.

Me: “I… I don’t understand. Did I make it wrong?”

Other Customers: “It looked fine to me. Yeah, you’re doing fine. What’s his deal?”

The customer storms back in and goes into a rage with me.

Customer: “What the h*** was that?! You basically gave me ice cream in a napkin! I watched you fill it up then wrap it in a napkin because it was dripping all over, you idiot!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t try to make it badly and the ice cream just comes out of a machine; I have no control over the temperature it comes out at!”

Before I can offer to make him a new one free of charge, he throws in his last words before storming out.

Customer: “You don’t deserve to work here, moron!”

And then my manager, out of nowhere, says:

Manager: “Well, you don’t deserve to be my customer!”

At least the customer was right about one thing: I don’t deserve to work at a minimum wage, dead-end job. I deserve to be a teacher, which is what I’m currently studying for and working at this restaurant to pay for.

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