Archive for 2012

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| WA, USA | Right | October 24, 2012

(I have recently broken my foot, and the pain and brace I wear under my shoe causes a pronounced limp. I’m working in concessions on a slow day when an elderly couple approaches to order. Our kettle is popping corn directly behind me, so it’s difficult to hear.)

Me: “Hello, how are you doing today?”

Male Customer: *mumbles inaudibly*

Me: “What can I get started for you?”

Female Customer: “He just ordered a small popcorn.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, of course. Buttery topping?”

Male Customer: *mumbles inaudibly*

Me: “Sorry? Could you repeat that?”

Female Customer: “He said butter!”

Me: “Ah, thank you. Would you like anything to drink with that?”

Female Customer: “Teenagers! You never listen to a word anyone says! He already ordered a small coke!”

(I’m 24, but I brush off the comment about my age as it’s a common mistake.)

Me: “I apologize, it’s difficult for me to hear for the corn popping.”

(I proceed to collect the ordered items, limping as usual. I overhear the woman mumbling, but think little of it.)

Me: “Here you are, can I get any candy or anything else for you?”

Female Customer: “If you’re done shuffling about so lazily, I’d like you to ring me up.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I broke my foot recently. I was moving as fast as I could under the circumstances.”

Female Customer: “Right, uh huh. Whatever excuse you need. Lazy teenagers.”

(I complete the transaction, and go about various tasks as soon as they leave, trying to hide my obvious annoyance. After a few minutes, the man returns and leans way over the counter with a serious frown. I nervously shuffle over.)

Me: “Welcome back, how can I help you?”

Male Customer: “I just wanted to apologize about my hag of an old wife. She’s got some sort of stick crammed up there, and it sure ain’t mine!”

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Work Distractions

| Working | October 24, 2012

Some Men Are Tools

| QC, Canada | Working | October 24, 2012

(I am a female woodworking student, but I’ve been making furniture and wood decorations for many years prior to that.)

Owner: “Hi, can I help you, little miss?”

Me: “Hi, yes thanks! I would like to get a planer #4, and also wood chisels, size 3/8, 1/4 and 1 inch. I also need a 6 inch bevel and a square.”

Owner: “Why don’t you let your husband deal with that and send him here so you don’t get his order wrong?”

Me: “…I’m sorry? I’m a woodworker. This is all for me, and I would like you to stop making sexist assumptions like that.”

Owner: “You women should stay in your kitchen and leave the manual work to men! In no way you could use a planer correctly without a man’s help, little miss. Also, it’s too heavy for a woman.”

(Note: It’s about 5 lbs. A kid could lift that.)

Me: “Thanks for your help, that’s going to be all.” *hands him my debit card*

Owner: “You sure you don’t want to wait until your husband can come with you so he tells me exactly what he wants?”

Me: “No! I don’t have a husband, and I don’t need any help with my tools, thanks.”

(He finally lets me pay. However, when he hands me the bag, I decide to have a little fun with him. I let my arm fall low and bend half my body towards the floor.)

Me: *exaggerating* “Oh my God, this is so heavy! Can a man in this store help me, oh poor frail girl, to carry this huge bag of manly tools? I think I’m going to faint!”

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Sub-standard Operating Procedures

| Mechelen, Belgium | Working | October 24, 2012

Me: “Hi, can you please assist us? Our email is not working.”

Service Desk: “Please send an email, as per standard operating procedure.”

Me: “But I can’t send an e-mail. Our email is not working.”

Service Desk: “We cannot act on a phone call. We need an email to start a ticket.”

Me: “I don’t think you understand: my email is not working, and it is the same for my coworkers.”

Service Desk: “No, you don’t understand. As per standard operating procedure, without an email, we cannot open a ticket.”

(This continued for awhile, but neither I nor my coworkers got anywhere. Finally, one of my coworkers was so fed up with it that he went home and sent an email from his personal address!)

Infinitely Loopy, Part 3
Infinitely Loopy, Part 2
Infinitely Loopy

Running Afowl Of The Customer

| Montreal, QC, Canada | Working | October 24, 2012

(I am a vegetarian for very specific health reasons. I am out for supper to a popular Italian restaurant with friends and family. I know what I want to eat, but the waiter is pushing a special on fettuccine alfredo).

My Sister: “Doesn’t the alfredo you make here have chicken stock in it?”

Waiter: *rolls eyes* “Good Lord, no; it’s ALFREDO! It’s vegetarian.”

Me: “Well, if you’re sure, then I’ll try it.”

Waiter: “GOD, it’s alfredo! Cream sauce, you know? You’ll like it.”

(My sister orders one too, and hers arrives before mine. She takes a bite.)

My Sister: “It’s delicious, but you won’t want to eat it. It has chicken stock in it.”

Waiter: “IT DOES NOT!”

Me: “Could you just go ask the cook? Please?”

Waiter: “FINE!”

(We don’t see the waiter for at least 15 minutes. When he returns, he sheepishly takes my plate.)

Waiter: “Can I get you the pesto? On the house?”

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