We’re Not Selling What You’re Buying

, , , , , , | Right | October 30, 2017

(I work at a large and “alternative” store known for its laid back attitude and plain-clothes “uniform.” People tend to shop at this store for the prices, regardless of how they feel about alternative culture. We are trained to ask open-ended questions when approaching customers.)

Me: “Hi there! What brings you into [Store] today?”

Customer: *looking me up and down with disdain* “Does this look like a F****** CHEMIST to you?”

Me: *stuttering* “No?”

Customer: “Then, clearly, I want to buy something! F***!”

Me: *smiles and walks off*

Don’t Mess With Family (Business)

, , , , , , , | Working | October 13, 2017

(My wife and I have owned a café a few blocks from our house for over a year. I suck at cooking, so 90% of the time I’m a stay-at-home dad to our two-year-old, while my wife is at the café nigh on constantly. I do help out from time to time, and I’ve met most of the employees. I decide to bring our daughter in for lunch one day, since she’s been begging for mummy since she woke up.)

Me: *talking to new employee I’d never seen before* “Hi, is [Wife] in? I’d like to speak to her.”

New Employee: *rolls eyes and sighs* “I don’t know.”

Me: “Could you please find out?”

New Employee: *sighs again* “I can get the boss for you, but I don’t know who [Wife] is.”

Me: “[Wife] is the boss.”

New Employee: *snorts* “No, she isn’t. You’ve been lied to, mate.”

Me: *getting pretty angry at this point about how rude this girl is* “Just get the boss, then.”

New Employee: “Fine, if you’re going to be rude about it!”

(She stalks off. My daughter climbs up onto one of the chairs and sits at the table, pretending to read the menu and excitedly telling anyone who walks past, “SEE MY MUMMY!”)

New Employee: *stalks back over* “He’s coming. Could you control your kid, please? She’s bothering the other customers.”

Me: “She’s not hurting anyone.”

New Employee: “Ugh, whatever.”

(She flounces off to serve someone. A very frazzled looking [Brother-In-Law] comes out of the office and sees me.)

Brother-In-Law: “Oh, it’s just you! I thought it was another bloody complaint about her. [Wife] will be back in a bit; she just ran to get the milk order. Hey there, [Daughter]!”

(My daughter grins and giggles at the sight of her uncle, and in her excitement, knocks over her sippy cup she’d brought with her. It’s spill-proof, so it just falls to the floor and rolls under the table.)

Daughter: “Uh-oh! Sorry, Daddy!”

Me: “That’s fine, sweetie.”

(Before I can get over there, the new employee storms over, picks up the sippy cup, and SLAMS it onto the table, narrowly missing my daughter’s hand. The sudden noise and the girl’s angry face scares my daughter, who begins to cry.)

Brother-In-Law: “Hey! What the h***?!”

New Employee: “She’s been running around wrecking the place since he walked in, demanding to see some lady. He can’t control his kid, and he’s obviously picked up with some woman who lied about being the boss here to seem important.”

Me: “I asked to see [Wife] and she has been nothing but rude. Should I tell her or should you?”

(My brother-in-law has picked up my daughter and is cuddling her, trying to stop her from crying.)

Brother-In-Law: “[New Employee], [Wife] is the boss.”

New Employee: “No, she isn’t. [Supervisor who happens to be my sister-in-law] said some married couple owned the place. She’s not married; she doesn’t wear a ring.”

Me: “She doesn’t wear a ring because when she cooks it tears the gloves. It’s on a necklace instead.”

New Employee: “Ugh, whatever. Could you just stay out of this?”

Me: “Here, take a look at my license.”

(I hand her my wallet, and she flips it open and looks at my license. I’ve never seen someone go so pale so quickly as this employee when she looks at my surname — the name of the d*** café.)

Me: *to [Brother-In-Law]* “Has she had her warnings?”

Brother-In-Law: *grins* “Two, in writing. [Wife] wanted to give her one last chance.”

Me: “I’d say she’s used that.” *to her* “You’re fired.”

New Employee: *stammering* “You can’t do that! You’re not the boss! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!”

Wife: *who has apparently been standing quietly in the office doorway for a few minutes and has heard enough* “I am definitely the boss, and you are definitely fired.”

Requires A Nugget Of Sense

, , , , | Working | September 29, 2017

(This takes place at a well-known fried chicken restaurant. I have never had an issue placing this order, as the vast majority are aware of how to do maths.)

Me: “May I please get 20 chicken nuggets?”

Cashier: *who is definitely not a teenager; stares at me like I’m stupid* “We only do 10 maximum.”

Me: *after visibly steeling myself to refrain from replying sarcastically* “Then I will have two lots of ten nuggets, please.”

Cashier: “Oh! Sure! That’ll be [Price].”

(The sheer amount of idiocy shown was overwhelming. I was stunned.)

No Longer Part Of The Charity Machine

, , , , , , | Right | September 2, 2017

(My husband and I both work at a community centre, which provides emergency relief [food vouchers and parcels, help to get medications and pay bills such as rent, electricity, etc.] generally only four times a year, but some people take advantage of this. I have just been promoted from a volunteer to a paid worker, while my husband has been a paid worker for two years. We go to a local pub for dinner to celebrate. After dinner, we decide to put a couple of dollars in the pokies. My husband goes to the bathroom and to get drinks while I choose a machine. There are only handful of people in the gaming room. I find a machine I like and put a couple of dollars in it, and on my second spin I win some free games. I notice an older lady standing behind me, watching as I win over $60. As I go to play it down to an even $60, I can hear her mumbling behind me but don’t pay any attention. I happen to get the free games again, taking my total up to just over $100. I get a coin bucket and push “collect” when I’m pushed off my chair. I look up to see the old lady grabbing dollar coins from the machine.)

Me: “What the h***?”

Lady: “This is my machine. You’re playing my machine, so this is my money.”

(I’m confused, as there was no credit on the machine or reserve sign up. My husband and the gaming manager race over to help me.)

Husband: “What the heck are you doing to my wife?”

Lady: “She’s trying to steal my money. That’s my machine.”

Manager: *after radioing for security* “Ma’am, you weren’t playing a machine. I have to ask you to give this lady her money back and leave, unless she would like to press assault charges. You will also be banned from here.”

Lady: “No, this is my machine, I always play this machine. I spend more here in a week than they’d make in a whole month. You ban them.”

(By this time, two security guards have arrived and my husband has helped me up, I decline to press charges and she is escorted out, screaming about how it’s her machine. We are given vouchers for drinks and the restaurant. The next week at the community centre, I’m being trained in the welfare side of things, as I had only worked in the second hand shop before, when the lady from the pub comes in. She doesn’t recognise me, but I pull aside the senior worker who is training me and explain what has happened. She explains that this lady comes in every week demanding food vouchers, payment for her prescriptions, and help with rent and bills. They had already decided to just give her a food parcel and advise her on financial counselling if she came back within three months, but after I explain what happened at the pub, this is what the senior worker does.)

Senior Worker: “I’m sorry Mrs. [Lady], but we are unable to assist you anymore. I can give you the numbers of some other places that may be able to help you.”

Lady: “What? No, you are a charity; you have to help me. I need food vouchers and these bills paid now.”

Senior Worker: “I’m afraid that, no, we don’t have to help you, as we generally only assist every three months, and if it’s more than that we only give food parcels. You have been here every week for the last three months, demanding assistance. I’m sorry; we can’t help you anymore for the next 12 months.”

Lady: “What? This is an outrage. How am I meant to pay my rent? How am I meant to eat? I have diabetes, you know. If I die because of not eating, it’s all your fault.”

Senior Worker: “Ma’am, as I said, I’ve got a list of numbers here that may help you, but can I suggest not spending more in a week than I make a whole month at [Pub]?”

(I tried not to laugh as the lady looked between me and the senior worker. She finally recognised my husband and me as another worker arrived to escort her out, all while she was screaming how it was her machine and her money, and how she was going to die because we wouldn’t give her food. The manager contacted other services in the area to warn them about her.)

Unfiltered Story #91978

, , , | Unfiltered | August 29, 2017

Myself and my husband both work at a community centre that provides emergency relief (food vouchers and parcels, help to get medications, pay bills such as rent, electricity etc) generally only 4 times a year but some people take advantage of this.
I had just been promoted from a volunteer to a paid worker while my husband has been a paid worker for 2 years. We go to a local pub for dinner to celebrate. After dinner we decide to put a couple of dollars in the pokies. He goes to the bathroom and to get drinks while I choose a machine. There are only handful of people in the gaming room, I find a machine I like and put a couple of dollars in it and second spin I get the free games. I notice an older lady standing behind me watching as I win over $60. As I go to play it down to an even $60 I can hear her mumbling behind me but don’t pay any attention. I happen to get the free games again taking my total up to just over $100 I get a coin bucket and push collect when I’m pushed off my chair. I look up to see the old lady grabbing dollar coins from the machine.
Me: what the h**l?
Lady: this is my machine. Your playing my machine, so this is my money.
I’m confused as there was no credit on the machine or reserve sign up.
My husband and the gaming manager race over to help me.
Husband: what the heck are you doing to my wife?
Lady: shes trying to steal my money. That’s my machine.
Manager after radioing for security: ma’am your werent playing a machine. I have to ask you to give this lady her money back and leave unless she would like to press assault charges. You will also be banned from here.
Lady: no this is my machine, I always play this machine. I spend more here a week then they’d make in a whole month. You ban them.
By this time two security guards have arrived and my husband has helped me up, I decline to press charges and she escorted out screaming about how its her machine. We are given vouchers for drinks and the restuarant.
The next week at work Im being trained in the welfare side of things as i had only worked in the second hand shop before when the same lady comes in. She doesn’t recognise me but I pull the senior worker who is training me aside and explain what has happened. She explains that this lady comes in every week demanding food vouchers, payment for her prescriptions and help with rent and bills. They had already decided to just give her a food parcel and advise her on finacial counselling if she’d came back within three months but after I explained what had happened this is what happened.
Senior worker: I’m sorry mrs (lady) but we are unable to assist you anymore. I can give you the numbers of some other places that may be able to help you.
Lady: what? No, you are a charity, you have to help me. I need food vouchers and these bills paid now.
Senior worker: I’m afraid that no we dont have to help you as we generally only assist every three months and if its more then that we only give food parcels. You have been here every week for the last 3 months demanding assistance. Im sorry we cant help you anymore for the next 12 months.
Lady: what? This is an outrage. How am I ment to pay my rent? How am I ment to eat? I have diabeties you know. If I die because of not eating its all your fault.
Senior worker: ma’m as I said Ive got a list of numbers here that may help you but can I suggest not spending more a week then I make a whole month at (pub).
I try not to laugh as the lady looks between me and the senior worker and she finally recognises me and my husband and another worker arrive to escort her out all while shes screaming how it was her machine and her money and how she was going to die because we wouldnt give her food.
The manager contacted other services in the area to warn them about her.

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