What Size Idiot Are You?

, , | Right | March 22, 2019

Customer: “How much is your hot chocolate?”

Me: *moving boxes* “It’s on the sign in front of you.”

(She looks at it while I put the boxes down. When I get to the register…)

Woman: “So how much is a hot chocolate?”

Me: *giving up* “Which size?”

Woman: *blank stare*

Me: “There’s small, medium, and large.”

Woman: “Umm, a small, I guess.”

(I make her hot chocolate and she pays.)

Woman: *as if noticing the sign for the first time* “Oh, it’s all right here. You really should tell customers about it. Saves you breathing on us.” *leaves*

Don’t Let Her Walk All Over You With Those Crappy Shoes

, , , , | Right | March 22, 2019

(I am covering the shop for my mom while she has a doctor’s appointment. Her boss/friend is more than okay with that, and tells me if a customer is rude that I can give it right back to them. The shop is more of a side project so it isn’t a big deal. I am at the counter, tagging and folding some clothes that just got dropped off, when I hear the front door slam open.)

Woman: “There is a pile of dog-s*** out here and I stepped in it! My shoes are now ruined!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. Sadly, it happens quite frequently here.”

Woman: “I demand to be compensated! I can’t wear these now and they cost over $500 dollars! What are you going to do to make this right!?”

Me: “…I can sell you some shoes?”

(Cue angry screaming and door slamming closed. When I went out to lock up for the day, I saw the rather huge pile of dog poop on the ground. The woman had decided to wipe/rub her shoes against the entire front half of the shop. I told my boss. She just laughed.)

The Poo Crew Adventures

, , , , | Right | March 22, 2019

(A festival I am working at uses composting toilets. Commodes have been set up, with wheely bins below them to collect the waste. The crew that is running it, colloquially known as the “Poo Crew,” have set up this business and go from site to site, managing the waste. As we are packing down the festival, I get to chatting with one of the owners. He is telling me about a festival he had done outside of Sydney, with thousands of people over several days. People camping out there, or just visiting for the day. As you can imagine, there was a lot of work for the Poo Crew. One woman approached the Poo Crew manager stating she had lost her purse down the privy. Whilst it’s not pleasant, the Poo Crew do get up to their armpit in the waste, but it’s not something that they like to do for free. The owner asked the woman which privy she had used.)

Woman: “Oh, I’m not sure. It was two nights ago. Can you just try a couple of them?”

Owner: “Well, we’re composting down this site over the next couple of months. If your purse turns up we’ll call you.”

(I would have been tempted to ask her to go through the bins herself!)

Drowning In Bad Parenting

, , , | Related | March 22, 2019

(I am a volunteer at a swimming club that completely runs on volunteers. We have our licenses, but we are not hired professionals who teach on a daily basis. As a result, we have fewer students than the pool’s own swimming school. We also teach more than the pool’s swimming school, from the actual “how to swim,” to water polo, snorkeling, survival, etc. In order to get children to participate in sports more, one large supermarket chain has Sports Weeks, where you can save stamps and when you have a full card, you can sign up for three free lessons at a sporting club of choice. This is one of the ways our club hopes to get more students, so we always participate, and usually, the kids end up in my group for their first lesson. I teach in the pool that is three metres deep; you need to have your basic swimming certificate to swim there, which is mentioned in the rules.  At Sports Weeks, I get a batch of children and adults, but when I’ve just started my lesson, a late-comer comes in with his mother. It’s a little boy, about five years old. I immediately sign one of the coordinators over, because of an uneasy feeling.)

Me: “Good afternoon, ma’am. Here for Sports Weeks?”

Mother: *speaks with an accent and minimal Dutch* “Yes, yes. My son is here for Sports Weeks.”

Me: “Well, the lesson already started, but he is welcome. Which certificate does he already have?”

Mother: “Yes, yes. He here for swimming lessons.”

Me: “Eh, but which certificate does he have? Does he have A? B? Or C?”

(Our basic national swimming certificates go from A, the first, to C, the last.)

Mother: “Yes, yes, swimming lessons.”

Me: “Ma’am… can he swim?!”

Mother: “Yes, yes… swimming lessons! My boy swim very good!”

(At this time the coordinator has reached me and overheard me.)

Me: “Ma’am, please talk to [Coordinator]; she will assist you.”

(I return to my lesson, which was already taken over by my father, who is also a volunteer and saw me talking to the mother. Since he’s my father and we have been teaching together for over a decade, we are quite in sync, so we just take over when we think the other needs help or needs an extra pair of eyes. Eventually, the mother and child leave, and after class, the coordinator talks to us.)

Coordinator: “You were absolutely right, [My Name]; that kid couldn’t swim at all!”

Me: “Maybe she misunderstood the rules of Sports Weeks?”

Coordinator: “No, she understood it. She just thought that she could use this to bypass the waiting list and have her child get free basic swimming lessons. She honestly thought three lessons was enough to teach her child how to swim! She didn’t understand why we wouldn’t allow her child to swim along, and she called us racists.”

Me: “She… What?!”

Coordinator: “Apparently, refusing a child who can’t swim and will drown the moment he jumps into the pool is racism. She said she will write the head of Sports Weeks and we will be banned from the list.”

(We did get the complaint sent through, but with the mention, “We laughed really hard about this,” and a new list of participants.)

Surprised That Minimum Wage Doesn’t Garner Minimum Effort

, , , , | Right | March 22, 2019

(I am on a ladder putting up candy when I see two girls eating from the bulk bin below me. I warn them not to eat candy and direct them to where the bags are. I get called away by my manager and when I look back I see the girls eating candy from their bags.)

Me: “Guys, I already warned you once.”

Girl #1: “Okay, we’re f****** paying already.”

Me: “Let me help you at the front, then.”

(The unofficial rule at our store is if a customer is eating candy while in line, we add to their total weight to make them pay for it.)

Me: “I guess I’ll just add two for the candy you already ate. Do you have a [Store Card] for a discount?”

(They do and their candy comes up to $3.87 but they are upset that I added two grams. They demand to speak to my manager so I send a coworker to get her.)

Me: “Can you move over so I can help the rest of the line?”

Girl #1: “No.”

(However, my manager is, apparently, taking too long so they go to her. I finish with the line as they speak to my manager. I don’t know what they said but my manager brings them back to the front to call her supervisor. I don’t talk to the girls because I don’t want to make them angrier but they just rile themselves up anyway.)

Girl #2: “I’m going to rip your f****** limbs off, you minimum wage b****. I don’t know why you care so much for $11.25.”

(This isn’t what we make by the way. It is clear she’s never worked a minimum-wage job in her life.)

Me: “I’m going to get security. You cannot threaten me like that.”

(I get security but they just stand around and watch. My supervisor is unavailable so the girls take down my badge number and name and leave. After, I speak to the DM about what happened and he promises to back me up if the girls make a complaint.)

Coworker: “See, this is why I just let them steal!”

Me: “But if you just let them steal they’ll walk all over you!”

Coworker: “Eh, whatever. It’s not worth minimum wage.”

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