This Is Why I Always Tip Well

| Right | September 18, 2013

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Via.

Breaking The Bathroom Breaking

| Baltimore, MD, USA | Right | September 18, 2013

(I am taking a four-plus hour flight. It’s a full flight, so our row is full. I’m in the middle seat. The passenger in the window seat is ordering carbonated water and alcohol every time the flight attendant comes by. She has been doing this for hours and is getting up to pee every few minutes; aggravating the rest of us.)

Window Passenger: *to the aisle passenger in the seat next to her* “Can you move? I need to use the bathroom.”

Aisle Passenger: *in aisle seat* “You’ve been doing this every few minutes! Could we switch seats? It’ll be easier if you have the aisle seat.”

Window Passenger: “No! I want this window seat. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go.”

(She goes, comes back, sits down, and orders another water, which she gulps down. Eight minutes pass.)

Window Passenger: “Excuse me, move! I need to get to the bathroom!”

(She goes. The aisle passenger and I are both tired, because we’re trying to sleep and she keeps waking us, and we’re angry because her shoes are getting dirt on us.)

Me: “Look, man, move into the window seat. I’ll deal with her.”

(He moves into the window seat just as she comes back. The window passenger instantly yells at him.)

Window Passenger: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY SEAT?!”

Me: “I told him to move there.”

Window Passenger: “YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!”

Me: “YOU have no right! You’ve made 24 bathroom trips in three hours. We’re trying to sleep, and you’re climbing over us every few minutes and getting dirt from your shoes on our clothes! You left bruises on my leg where you climbed on it! This guy offered to let you sit in the aisle seat, and you said no!”

Window Passenger: “B****! I’LL TELL THE FLIGHT ATTENDANT!”

(The flight attendant is called, and I tell him the story.)

Flight Attendant: *to the window passenger* “Normally, ma’am, I’d side with you, but in this case, I think the young lady is right. It’s very disruptive to our other passengers for you to be climbing over them every few minutes. The gentleman vacated a perfectly good aisle seat, which you will have to use as the flight is full.”

Window Passenger: “F*** ALL OF YOU! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE DOING THIS TO ME!”

(She does, however, sit down and stop ordering drinks. She sulks for the rest of the flight, and upon landing, rushes off the plane as fast as she can.)

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Makes You Want To Dye A Little, Part 5

| UK | Right | September 18, 2013

(I am a female and have worked in the same supermarket for the past five years. I used to be blond, but I decide to dye my hair red. Most people have commented about how they like the new color, and how it suits me, and how they don’t recognize me.)

Customer: “Oh, I see you have dyed your hair. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Me: “Yeah, I was fed up with the original color, so I went for a change.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t like it. I want you to change it right now.”

Me: “You want me to leave work and pay to have my hair dyed a different color because you don’t like it?”

Customer: “Yes, why is that a problem?”

(The customer then stands there for another five minutes waiting for me to leave the till to go re-dye my hair.)

Me: “Ma’am, I cannot leave my till until I finish work.”

Customer: “Well that is just rude. I expect your hair color to be different when I next come in.”

(The customer walks off. I look at my coworker, who looks just as confused as me.)

Coworker: “Did that really just happen?”

Related:
Makes You Want To Dye A Little, Part 4
Makes You Want To Dye A Little, Part 3
Makes You Want To Dye A Little, Part 2
Makes You Want To Dye A Little

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Seen One, You’ve Seen A Mall

| Washington, DC, USA | Right | September 18, 2013

(I live near DC, so I am used to hearing tourists and tour groups ask very stupid questions. A group of out-of-state high-school kids are walking near me between two museums.)

Teenage Girl: “So… where are we right now, anyway?”

Teenage Boy: “In DC.”

Teenage Girl: “No, I mean, like, where in DC are we?”

Teenage Boy: “Oh, we’re on the National Mall.”

Teenage Girl: “Nuh-uh!”

Teenage Boy: “Yeah we are. Look at your map, right here.”

Teenage Girl: “No way! Are you SERIOUS?”

Teenage Boy: “Yeeeah…”

Teenage Girl: “That doesn’t make ANY sense!”

Teenage Boy: *silence*

Teenage Girl: “So, wait… you mean the National Mall isn’t, like, you know… an actual MALL?”

Teenage Boy: “Nope, but all the grass is 20% off!”

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Running Some Marriage Checks

| OR, USA | Right | September 18, 2013

(A man comes up to my teller window and gives me an account number that he wants to deposit a check into. I pull up the account to see that his wife is the only name on the account, but the check is written out to him.)

Me: “Hmm, do you have an account with us? Since the check is written out to you, I would have to first deposit it into your account and then transfer it to your wife’s account.”

(After having to explain this concept a couple more times, he gives me his own account number, and I notice just how much the check is for: almost $30,000.)

Me: “You know, I am actually going to need to put a three-day hold on this check.”

Husband: “What? Why?”

Me: “It’s based on a lot of factors, like your account activity and current balance, which is not much and under $500, and that you’ve chosen to come to a branch an hour from your house, which is a little odd.”

Husband: “What? I’ve been banking here for 30 years; you’re not putting a hold on my check. That’s just ridiculous. It’s a good check! Give it back to me. I’ll just take it somewhere where they’ll actually be happy to take my money!”

(After several more minutes of this, I ultimately agree to not put any hold on the check and he leaves. I show the check to my supervisor a couple minutes later, who says that we ARE going to put a hold on the funds. My manager is about to call the customer to let him know, when a woman walks up to my station.)

Wife: “Hi, I wanted to transfer my husband’s check into my account. He was just in here.”

Me: “Oh hi, give me just a second.”

(I grab my supervisor, who tells her that we will need to put a hold on the check, so we can’t transfer it to her account just yet.)

Wife: “Oh that’s fine. We don’t need the money now, but my husband is just so bad with his money that he’s not allowed to touch it. That’s why we keep it in my account. Otherwise he would just spend it.”

Me: “Oh, well thank you for understanding!”

Wife: “Oh I don’t care. It’s not a big deal. My husband was probably not very nice about it though, was he?”

Me: “Haha, well…”

Wife: “Yeah, he’s not very sociable.”

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