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Plenty Of Room For Him To Make A Mistake

| Right | June 13, 2015

(I’m working the graveyard shift at a hotel. I am a 22-year-old female. This happens just as I have stepped outside to have a cigarette around 2 am. The man is a 40ish year old who is almost twice my size. He pulls up in a sporty little car.)

Drunk Male: “Ya got any rooms tonight, sweetheart?”

Me: “I’m afraid the hotel is sold out tonight, sir.”

Drunk Male: “Well, throw someone out. I’m a diamond member and you have to give me a room.”

Me: “Excuse me? I’m not throwing anyone out. There’s lodging elsewhere.”

Drunk Male: “The customer is always right, and I’m the customer and I say throw someone out! I want a room.”

(This goes on for a little bit before he gets out of his car. He gets right in my face while towering over me.)

Drunk Male: *jabbing at me, then pulling back a fist like he’s going to hit me* “Look here. I said get me a room!”

Me: “If you’re going to swing at me, you’ve got one chance to connect, then I am going to introduce you to a whole new world of pain before the cops get here.”

(The drunk male pulled his arm back. I just smiled. He looked worried, then got in his car and peeled out. Best part, he cut off a cop on the way out of the lot, so I got to watch him get arrested, his car towed, and my faith in karma restored.)

Saved From Traffic, Not Trafficking

, , , , , | Right | June 18, 2013

(I work in the parking lot, helping customers load their vehicles and push carts back to where they belong. I am the only one out on the lot at the moment. A boy runs out into the lot next to me, into the middle of the road.)

Boy: “Die, bug!”

(I see something moving out of the corner of my eye. When I look, there’s a car driving very fast through the lot. It is heading straight for the boy.)

Me: “Oh, crap!”

(I run into the road, pick up the child, and dive out of the way. I use my body as a cushion for him. My back hits a rack of plants, knocking them over, and sending pain through my back. The boy’s mother comes rushing over.)

Boy’s Mother: “Oh, my God! WHAT THE H*** ARE YOU DOING WITH MY CHILD!?”

Me: “First of all, I’m okay, and so is he. Second of all, he just about got ran over.”

(I painfully stand up, and let the child go to his mother, who clings to her.)

Boy’s Mother: “I want to see your manager, now!”

Me: “Certainly, ma’am.”

(I go and find my manager, and explain to her what happened. The manager understands and goes to the service desk where the boy and his mother now wait. I follow behind and listen in.)

Manager: “So, I hear you have a problem with one of my employees?”

Boy’s Mother: “You’re d*** right I do! He tried to steal my baby!”

Manager: “I assure you that’s not what happened. From what my employee has told me, he saw the child run into the street, chasing a bug. He noticed a car driving at unsafe speeds through the parking lot at the child.”

Boy’s Mother: “That’s what he wants you to think!! I saw no car!”

Manager: “What happened when you noticed my employee with your child?”

Boy’s Mother: “He knocked over the plant racks out front with his back!”

Manager: “And he did this while holding your child?”

Boy’s Mother: “YES! You get it!”

Manager: “Not quite. Follow me with this, please. Why would my employee do that when he has the most chance of getting caught? It would draw a lot of attention to himself.”

Boy’s Mother: “He… He was… I don’t know.”

Manager: “The only reason I could think of him doing that is if he had to get out of the way of something fast. Or, if your child was in danger of being hit by a car going 40 miles per hour through the parking lot.”

Boy’s Mother: “Well, maybe you should control the cars speeding through your lot! Hmph!”

(She takes her son and walks out in a huff. Later on, at the end of my shift, the mother and her son approach me on the way out.)

Boy’s Mother: “There you are! I’ve been looking for you!”

Me: “Ma’am, I promise you; I wasn’t trying to kidnap your child!”

Boy’s Mother: “I know that. But my son has something to say to you.”

Boy: “Thank you for saving my life.”

(He hands me a thank you card.)

Me: “No problem, little man. Promise me something?”

Boy: “Okay?”

Me: “Don’t go playing in the street. When you go somewhere, stay next to your mom. That’s the safest place you can be. Can you do that?”

Boy: “I promise!”

Boy’s Mother: “Thank you again. I can’t thank you enough. I also came back to talk to your manager. Are you on lunch?”

Me: “I’m off work now, actually.”

Boy’s Mother: “Good, then I can make it a surprise!”

(The mother walked into the store. I wondered what she meant, but I figured I’d find out the next day, and went home. The next day, I opened up the store, and found out from my manager that someone gave me a glowing review of my work ethics!)

Yes, Let’s All Just Make Up Our Own Rules

, , | Right | February 19, 2008

(I work as a box office cashier and Saturday nights are the best due to funny things like this.)

Lady: “I need two for 27 Dresses.”

Me: “I’m sorry but the 7:20 is sold out. Our next one is at 10:00.”

Lady: “Seriously? It’s sold out?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Lady: “So there aren’t any more seats?”

Me: “No seats.”

Lady: “What if I went and bought concessions?”

Me: “Then you would have concessions, I suppose.”

Lady: “I mean, if I bought stuff from inside, I can get seats right?”

Me: “No. You’ll just have popcorn and soda.”

Lady: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Well typically when you get concessions, you end up with popcorn and soda.”

Lady: “Yes. That’s true.”

Me: “Can I ask you to step aside so I can help some other people if you aren’t ready to select another movie?”

Lady: “Oh, yes! I’m sorry! I’ll be right back.”

(About ten minutes pass and she comes back with a guy, popcorn and soda.)

Lady: “Hi! Remember me? I need two for 27 Dresses at 7:20.”

Me: “Um…I’m sorry, but that’s still sold out.”

Lady: “But, I thought you said if I bought popcorn and soda, I could see it!”

Me: *blink blink*

Guy: “HEY! IF you told her she could see it if she got food, then sell her the tickets!”

Me: “Okay, fine. Just warning you there are only eight seats in the thea–”

Guy: “SELL US THE SEATS.”

Me: “Okie dokie. $16.50, please.”

Guy: “WHAT? Oh, f*** that. Come on. The movie costs more than the food. Let’s just go rent something.”

Lady: “But will the rental store have it?”

Me: “There’s a Blockbuster right there. Go bug them.”


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Cold Callers Versus Hot Heads

| Right | June 11, 2014

(It is my first week of cold calling people to try to encourage them to buy a kitchen or windows. I do not want to be there, but I need the money.)

Me: “Hello, am I speaking to the home owner?”

Customer #1: “Yes?”

Me: “I’m calling from [Company] to see if [launch into selling script]. So. do you think—”

Customer #1: “DON’T YOU KNOW MY MOTHER HAS JUST DIED?!” *slams down phone*

Me: “… No?”

(I put her on to the don’t call back list despite the fact we’re not meant to do that unless they specifically ask us to because I feel sorry for her despite her rudeness, and let the automated dialer tick to the next cold call.)

Me: “Hello, am I speaking to the home owner?”

Customer #2: “Yes, you are. Who is this?”

Me: “I’m calling from [Company] to see if [launch into selling script]. So. do you think that might be something you’re interested in?”

Customer #2: “You know, you don’t have to do this. You could go back to college, educate yourself, and get a proper job. You don’t have to waste your life in a call centre.”

Me: “Sir, I’m studying neurobiology at university.”

Customer #2: “Oh, well, uh, no. I’m not interested. Sorry. Please remove me from the list. Good luck.”

(Again, I put him on the no call back list then let the dialer click on…)

Me: “Hello, am I speaking to the home owner?”

Customer: *sighs* “Yes…”

Me: “I’m calling from [Company] to see if [launch into selling script]. So. do you think you might be interested?”

Customer: “Actually, maybe. Tell me more. What does it involve?”

(The customer gets me to answer loads of questions, sounds really interested, and I begin to hope my day might turn round and I might finally check off the measly £1 bonus for getting someone to book a visit for a quote.)

Customer: “Brilliant, thank you for that. Can you do me one last favour?”

Me: “Absolutely, sir!”

Customer: “Good. Can you F*** OFF?!” *slams down the phone*

(I put him on the urgent call back list, meaning he’ll be called the next day around lunch time, and if he’s still rude to whoever is unfortunate enough to get him they will probably do the exact same thing. If you’re going to be a jerk to cold callers, remember we are human beings, too. Politeness gets you much further and it costs nothing to say nicely ‘I’m not interested; please take me off your lists.’ I started job hunting that night and left three weeks later.)

Hold Tight When Freudian Slipping

, , , , | Working | February 26, 2014

(I’m at the bank, where the teller is recounting my deposit to verify its accuracy, but she has difficulties taking the paper wrap off a bundle of one-dollar bills.)

Me: “Uh-oh, did I wrap it too tight? I’m sorry!”

Teller: “Just a little, but that’s okay! Better to be tight than loose!”

(Her coworker beside her bursts out laughing and I fail to suppress a giggle. The teller looks confused for a moment before she realizes what she’s said.)

Teller: “Well, it’s true!”


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