Coworkers Uber Alles

| | Right | June 8, 2009

(A young teenage girl comes up to my till and places several bottles of alcopops on it.)

Me: “I’m sorry miss, but as you don’t look over 21 I am afraid I am going to have to ask to see some ID for these.”

Girl: “What? I’m old enough. Obviously. Like, I never get asked for ID.”

Me: “Well I’m afraid I still need ID.”

Girl: “Why you being rude? I told you I am old enough.”

(This continues for about 25 minutes until I get fed up.)

Me: “Look, you obviously don’t have any ID so I am not going to serve you. If you want to complain you can go to customer services.”

Girl: “Fine!”

(Ten minutes later, my supervisor comes over.)

Supervisor: “I just heard you got a complaint. I must say that I am very disappointed.”

Me: “I’m sorry. I just lost it, I guess.”

Supervisor: *laughs* “Oh, no. That’s fine. Just that we all had a bet on how long you would last. If only you would have lasted a little longer.”

(A little while after this, the girl returns. She’s led by a much older man who I guess is her father. He places on my till the exact same items his daughter had.)

Man: “Right. I want these and before you ask, here is my ID.”

(He pulls out his driver’s license and waves it in my face, smirking to his daughter. He obviously thinks he is being really clever.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t sell you these.”

Man: “Why the h*** not?! I’m plenty old enough!”

Me: “Yes, sir. But it is also quite obvious that you are buying them for this girl, which means I can’t sell them to you.”

Man: “I want to speak with your supervisor.”

(I call my supervisor over and explain the situation. The man jumps in before she can respond.)

Man, to supervisor: “So, what you gonna do? You gonna sell me these d*** drinks and fire that little s***?!”

Supervisor: *calmly* “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I will give you thirty seconds to get out or I will call the police. Buying alcohol for a minor is a criminal offense.”

(Needless to say he left in a hurry, muttering furiously to his daughter. Sometimes, with the worst customers, you find the best coworkers.)

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Every Valet’s Dream Come True

| | Right | June 8, 2009

(A man pulls into the parking lot with a beautiful 1972 Rolls Royce. As a general rule, when someone comes in with a car that nice I just let them park it themselves right up front. This conversation takes place as he is leaving the restaurant.)

Customer: “I need you to pull my car around for me.”

Me: “I never took the keys from you.”

Customer: “The keys are in the ignition. Please go get my car.”

Me: “Well, if you insist…”

(I pull the car around VERY carefully.)

Customer: “That was completely unacceptable. I want you to drive around again, only this time when you start off, do a burnout!”

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The Crazies Always Come Out When It’s Overcast

, | | Right | June 5, 2009

Me: “911, what is your emergency?”

Caller: “You have to help me! Someone has been following me all day!”

Me: “Can you give a description of the person?”

Caller: “She’s all black, taller than me, and no face.”

Me: “Ma’am…that’s your shadow.”

Caller: “A what?”

Me: “Ma’am, a shadow is seen as a reflection of yourself when the sun is at a certain angle.”

Caller: “Oh my GOD! It’s like a fairy!”

Me: “No, it–”

Caller: “OH MY GOD, EVERYONE! I HAVE A FAIRY!”

Me: “Have a nice day, ma’am.”

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Neither A Fortune Teller Nor A Lender Be

| | Right | June 5, 2009

(A card holder called and asked for his balance, payment and other credit card information.)

Me: “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Caller: “One more thing. Who’s going to bill me next month?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Caller: “Who’s going to charge my account next month?”

Me: “I’m sorry…we don’t have the ability to see the future…”

Caller: “Why not? You’re my credit card company. You should know where I’m going to spend my money.”

Me: “Um…well, once you figure out where you’re going to go, call us afterwards. We can tell you where you’ve been.”

Caller: “See? I told you, you guys know everything!” *click*

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Would You Like A Foot To Go With Your Mouth

, | | Right | June 5, 2009

(Note: I’m a customer and overhear this exchange while waiting in line.)

Barista: “Here’s your change… Have a nice day.”

Customer: “You know, you haven’t smiled once.”

Barista: “Sorry.”

Customer: “I’m so sick of the attitude of people in the service industry! Is it so hard to give your customers a smile as you’re pouring water through beans? You all are so arrogant. It makes me sick!”

Barista: *eyes begin to well up*

Customer: “Why aren’t you smiling?!”

Barista: “…because my father died last night.”

(At this point, you could hear a pin drop. The customer was literally glared out of the shop, forgetting her coffee.)

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