Going Loco Over The Location

, , , , , | Right | November 4, 2017

(I am working in the produce department of a grocery store. I am cutting up fruit with the more experienced [Coworker #1], who is just a little younger than me, when [Coworker #2] who is doing stock for produce, walks in.)

Coworker #2: “Hey, [Coworker #1], a customer asked whether we get our grape tomatoes from Mexico or the US. I told her I’d ask you because I don’t know.”

([Coworker #1] and I look at each other with confusion for a second, wondering why someone would ask that, before [Coworker #1] responds uncertainly.)

Coworker #1: “I… think we get them from Mexico? I’m not sure.”

(As they’re talking about it, I suddenly have a thought. [Coworker #1] goes into the refrigerated room where we keep all the produce stock, and I ask [Coworker #2]:)

Me: “Hey, is the customer an older white lady?”

Coworker #2: “Yeah, why?”

(I laugh and nod my head in confidence before explaining.)

Me: “I bet you that if you tell her they’re from the US, she’ll buy them, but if you tell her they’re from Mexico, she’ll put them back.”

(We both laugh, but I am very confident in my theory, as we live in an area that is pretty close to the countryside and full of elderly white people. [Coworker #1] comes back in and confirms that we do, indeed, get our grape tomatoes from Mexico, and I restate my theory to her. When [Coworker #2] leaves to tell the woman that the tomatoes are indeed from Mexico, I ask him to tell me what she says. Later on, I bump into [Coworker #2], and he tells me what happened. He walked back to this woman who was still holding the small plastic container of the tomatoes in her hand.)

Coworker #2: “So, I just checked with one of the people from produce, and she told me that we get those tomatoes from Mexico.”

Customer: “Oh, okay.”

Coworker #2: “I’m sorry about the wait.”

Customer: *while looking him in the eye* “I’m sorry, too.”

(She then put the tomatoes back and just walked away. I whisper yelled, “I knew it!” and we both laughed about it for the rest of the day. Just to clarify, every person involved in this was white, including me.)

Gul Du-Splat

, , , , , | Right | November 3, 2017

(I’m working alone in a small pet store. It’s about 20 minutes before we close. A woman barges in holding a large cardboard box, a wild look in her eyes.)

Me: “Hello, ma’am. Is everything okay?”

Woman: “You have to help me! I found a seagull in the parking lot, and I think its wing might be broken!”

Me: “Oh. Well, I’m not sure what I can do to… Wait, is it in the box you’re holding?”

Woman: “Yes! Can you take a look at him?”

Me: “Ma’am, please keep him in the—”

(Before I can finish, she pulls the seagull out of the box. Understandably scared, it starts flapping its damaged wing, and blood spurts all over me, our displays, and the floor.)

Me: “PLEASE PUT HIM BACK IN THE BOX! I’m not a vet! I’d recommend you take it to an emergency room! Try [Nearby Vet Clinic]; I know they do emergency walk-ins!”

Woman: “ARE YOU SERIOUS?! Hmmph! I assumed you’d care about animals!”

(She stuffed the seagull back in the box and ran out of the store. I ended up staying almost 45 minutes past closing to clean and disinfect the entire front end of the store. I hope the poor seagull ended up okay!)

Not Quite The King Of Branding

, , , , | Right | November 3, 2017

(I’m working behind the customer service counter, where we keep tobacco products. There’s a register and the lottery machine and people usually, but not always, stand in line at the right station. It’s fairly busy and a customer walks up to the lottery machine.)

Me: “Hi. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Can I have a pack of cigarettes?”

Me: “Sure! What kind?”

Customer: “[Brand].”

Me: “What kind did you want?”

Customer: “Lights.”

Me: “Okay. Did you want [Type #1] or [Type #2]?”

Customer: “[Brand].”

Me: “Yes, but the tall or short ones?”

Customer: “Lights.”

(I physically grab both [Type #1] and [Type #2].)

Me: “Do you want this one?” *shakes [Type #1]* “Or do you want this one?” *shakes [Type #2]*

Customer: “The [Brand] ones.”

(This goes back and forth for another couple minutes before he finally tells me he wants [Type #1].)

The Kind Of Guy Who Puts Their Mug Shot On A Mug

, , , , , | Right | November 3, 2017

(I’ve been a cashier at a grocery store chain for about six months. I’m one of the few cashiers who isn’t a minor and works nights on the weekends. It’s Saturday at around 10:30 pm when two young men walk up, reeking of weed. I greet them and ring up their order, and I scan some sort of cough syrup, which is an age-restricted item. Policy says we have to ID anyone who is under 40.)

Me: “Can I please see your ID?”

Customer #2: “What the h*** do you need his ID for?”

Me: “Oh.” *holds up cough syrup* “You have to be 18 to buy this.”

Customer #1: “Chill, man. She’s just doing her job.”

(He then searches his pockets and pulls out his phone.)

Customer #1: “I don’t got my ID on me, but I got my mugshot.”

(The customer shows me his phone, where the county sheriff’s department page and, indeed, his mugshot, are on screen.)

Me: “Um, sir, that’s not a valid state-issued ID.”

Customer #1: “It’s not?”

Me: “No, it’s… it’s just a mug-shot. Do you maybe have a license or a military ID?”

Customer #1: “No.”

(Legally, I couldn’t let them purchase the item. While they were mostly polite, the story was just too good to not share.)

Admirably Managed The Situation

, , , | Right | November 3, 2017

(I worked a brief but rewarding stint at a home improvement store where employees are required to wear bright orange aprons. I haven’t worked there in about four months when this happens to a friend and me while shopping at one of the store’s other locations. I am not wearing anything orange. I am explaining a couple of home repair things to my friend, and also noting what departments we might look in to find the items. Two ladies and a gentleman approach me.)

Lady #1: “Excuse me; I’m sorry to bother. When you’re done helping this person…” *points to friend* “…I was wondering if you could answer a question for me?”

Me: *looks at my friend, who nods to let me help* “Ask away.”

Lady #1: “We’re looking for an RV electrical box… or maybe plug… plug head.”

Me: “Sure, right this way.” *takes them down the aisle of plugs* “I’m not sure if this is what you’re looking for, but these would all be the RV plugs, extension cords, etc. If this isn’t it, I can find someone from electrical to help.”

Gentleman: “Thank you so much for you for your help. We can see why you’re a manager.”

Me: “Actually, I don’t work here. I used to work at another location, but seeing as most of the other employees are busy, I thought I’d just lend a helping hand.”

Gentleman: “Really? We’re so sorry; you just looked in-charge and were really knowledgeable.”

Me: “No problem. Thanks for the compliment.”

(The kicker is that the reason I left the store was because I was doing manager-type work, and receiving hourly wages, so much so that one of my managers encouraged me to leave for something better.)

Page 37/3,945First...3536373839...Last
« Previous
Next »