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Baby On Board (The Bus)

| Halifax, NS, Canada | Right | December 6, 2013

(I am 27 weeks pregnant and starting to have contractions. I am on the bus on my way to the hospital. The driver is aware of this. I pull the buzzer to get off the bus and start walking to the door.)

Driver: *to me* “You sit back down!” *to the rest of the bus* “Is anyone going to need any of the next four stops? Because if so, I suggest you get off now, as we are detouring!”

(The driver then takes us directly to the hospital. He stops the bus, gets out of his seat, walks me down the steps, and into the hospital! The next day I am still in the hospital. I call up the transit office.)

Me: “Hi, yes. I was on bus [number] yesterday evening and the driver detoured from his route for me. I just wanted to make sure he is not in trouble. Because of him, they were able to save the life of my unborn son!”

Transit Employee: “No worries, miss. We only got one complaint from a passenger. The driver called us as soon as he got back with everyone on the bus. He has been given a commendation for his actions yesterday. Thank you for calling, and take care!”

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Piercing Judgments, Part 3

| WA, USA | Right | December 6, 2013

(I’m a waitress at a popular tavern. We’re lucky, in that the owners and managers of the bar fully back up the staff when customers are rude to us. I have a septum piercing and two small scars on my lip from old piercings. An older couple and a few of their friends have just sat down.)

Me: “Hey, guys! Can I get you anything to drink?”

Customer: “Have you had those piercings in very long?”

Me: “Oh, the nose ring I’ve had since I was in high school. I took out my lip piercings a few years ago, though.”

Customer: “Ugh. You’d be so much prettier without all that garbage in your face.”

(I reply with my ‘aggressive smile’ on.)

Me: “Wow. Thank you for your completely rude and unsolicited opinion. Since my face offends you so much, feel free to order all of your beers and food up at the bar from now on.”

(As I’m walking away to help my other tables, the customer’s wife grabs my arm quite roughly and yanks me back.)

Customer’s Wife: “Ignore him. He just likes talking s***. Can we get some beers now?”

Me: “I really appreciate your incredibly sincere apology. Until you can get your husband to stop ‘talking s***’ to complete strangers, especially those who are waiting on you, you might consider keeping him on a leash.”

(One of my regulars at the next table overhears the entire exchange. He leaves me a $20 tip and a note with ‘I like your garbage face!’ written on it.)

 

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Please Turn Down The Gravity

| Washington, DC, USA | Right | December 6, 2013

(I work as a courtesy clerk and bag boy at a grocery store. My state has recently started charging people for store-provided paper or plastic bags. Whenever possible, I try to fit all the customers’ items into the reusable bags that they give me. In this case, the customer only hands me one reusable canvas bag. I have just finished packing it as full as it will go, when the customer’s wife joins us at the register.)

Customer’s Wife: “Oh, that bag is way too heavy. Neither of us will be able to lift it.”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. Would you like me to get another bag and re-pack these items for you?”

Customer’s Wife: “Yes, please.”

(The customer’s wife hands me another reusable canvas bag. I finish bagging their groceries, distributing the items as evenly as I can between the two bags. I then put the bags into their shopping cart, to make room on the counter so that I can start bagging the next person’s items.)

Customer’s Wife: “Oh, no. These bags are still too heavy. We still won’t be able to lift them.”

Me: “I’m so sorry about that. I can get you some of the paper bags that the store provides, and help you re-bag your items again.”

Customer’s Wife: “No, no. I don’t think we need any more bags. We just need these bags to be less heavy!”

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Lying Is All Relative(s), Part 2

| Adelaide, SA, Australia | Right | December 6, 2013

(My sister and I work in a bakery owned by our family; our grandma is the owner.)

Customer: “Hi. I’m the owner’s daughter. So, I can get my food for free, okay?”

Me: “Okay. I’ll call your mother in, okay?”

(The customer nervously nods. I call in my grandma.)

Grandma: “What is it?”

Me: “Oh, this customer says you’re her mum.”

(My grandma looks at the customer.)

Grandma: “I have never seen you in my life. Also, you look about twenty. So you could pass as my granddaughter, but not as my daughter!”

(The customer ran out quickly!)

 

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Pola-Roid Rage

| Wasilla, AK, USA | Right | December 6, 2013

(I work the returns counter at a retail store. We have a customer that comes in every couple of months and returns several packs of Polaroid film, each worth about $20. She never has a receipt and always has the same excuse that she bought too much for the occasion. We suspect she is stealing them from another store in the area, and returning them at our store. Our loss prevention team doesn’t have enough on her to deny the returns. The electronics department implements a policy that we are not allowed to return Polaroid film without a receipt if it doesn’t have one of our security tags on it. Sure enough, the customer comes back in after this policy is in place. None of the boxes she brings in have our security tags on them.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m not able to return these without a receipt.”

Customer: “But I’ve returned these here before. Why can’t I now?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. They changed our return policy. We are no longer allowed to return this type of film without a receipt if it doesn’t have our security tag on it.”

Customer: “Well, I know I bought it here. I want my money back.”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry, ma’am. These do not have our security tag on them. I cannot do a return without a receipt. Could you have purchased them from [other store in the area]?”

Customer: “NO! I bought them here. If I can’t return them here I just won’t shop here anymore!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am, but I have to follow our return policy.”

(The customer walks off with her film, huffing as she goes. After about 10 minutes the customer’s husband storms up to my counter.)

Customer’s Husband: “You calling my wife a thief?!”

Me: “Excuse me, sir?”

Customer’s Husband: “My wife was just up here trying to return film. She said you told her she couldn’t return it because it was stolen!”

Me: “No, sir. I explained to her that I couldn’t return the film without a receipt because they don’t have our security tags on them. Then I asked if she might have purchased them from [other store in the area]. I never accused her of stealing.”

Customer’s Husband: *shouting* “I’ve never seen this ‘security tag’ you’re talking about. You’re lying to me!”

(The customer’s husband storms off towards the electronics department, shouting.)

Customer’s Husband: “I’m going to prove you’re a liar. Then I’m gonna kick your a**!”

(I run after him to try to warn the department manager of what’s about to happen. When the husband gets into the department he starts pulling 35mm film packs off the shelf shouting.)

Customer’s Husband: “I don’t see no security tag!”

(He then threw the packages over the shelf. The manager of the department was dodging packs of film as he was trying to get to the customer. I reached him first. I grabbed a Polaroid film pack off the shelf and showed the man the security tag on the back that I had been referring to all along. The man stopped mid-throw and mid-shout, looked at me for a moment and then walked away without saying a word. We never saw either of them again in our store.)

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