Unfiltered Story #101607

, | Unfiltered | December 10, 2017

(I start work at 4AM, and the only coffee place open at that hour in my town is at the gas station. I don’t know why, but the clerk at 4AM always likes to play grammar games.)

Me: Can I have my receipt, please?

Clerk: It’s MY receipt. It’s not YOUR receipt until I give it to you.

Me: Whatever. Can I have THE receipt?

Clerk: I can give you A receipt. If you want THE receipt, you need to be specific.

(It’s not worth it anymore. I just head into work a little earlier and make my own coffee.)

This Manager Needs To Get Clubbed

, , , , , , , | Working | December 8, 2017

I was working at a sports store and the owners hired a new manager. This manager had never worked at a sports store before but had previously managed a ladies’ shoe store.

Although I was just a worker, I was asked to teach the new manager about the store and about the equipment we sold. The manager was absolutely oblivious to what any equipment was; at one point he held up an elbow pad for hockey and asked if it was a knee pad. I explained to him what it was for, and continued training my new boss.

I left for lunch one day and left him on his own, and after I came back he left for his lunch. Shortly after, a man who was about 6’5″ came in and asked to purchase the clubs he had the manager put away earlier today.

The man gave me his name, so I went to the back of the store and found the clubs with his name on them. I came back out and asked him if the clubs were for his wife.

The man told me they were for him. I informed him that the clubs the manager was going to sell him were in fact ladies’ clubs and were way too small for him. The customer was upset about the fact that the manager didn’t know what he was doing. So, I found a set of clubs in the store that would work for him. The clubs were $300.00 more than the clubs the manager tried to sell him, so I gave him a $300.00 discount and the customer was happy.

When the manager came back, I asked him why he tried selling this tall man a set of ladies’ clubs. The manager said that he wasn’t aware that there was difference in clubs, so he just picked a set of clubs and told the customer they were good for him.

There are so many other examples of this manager’s lack of knowledge. With him at the helm, the store only stayed open for another four months, at which time they went belly-up.

Email Fail, Part 14

, , , , , | Working | December 7, 2017

(I’ve had the same conversation with the employees at this store on a few different occasions.)

Cashier: *ringing up my purchases* “Are you in our computer system at all?”

Me: “No.”

Cashier: “Would you like to be? I just need your email address and phone number.”

Me: “What does being in your computer system do?”

Cashier: “Nothing, right now. But we might add benefits in the future!”

Me: “I’m good, thanks.”

 

Related:

Email Fail, Part 13

Email Fail, Part 12

Email Fail, Part 11

A Blend Of Bad Ideas

, , , , , , , | Working | December 6, 2017

My husband and I go to a local sub shop to get lunch because, although their food is far from tasty, they have bubble tea, which I adore.

I order a strawberry one, and we sit and chat while they prep our food. We grab it and leave, and I take a slurp of my bubble tea and get a mouthful of milk.

We go back in and I tell the gal that there has been some sort of mistake. She explains casually, as if it makes total sense, “Oh, yeah. Our blender broke yesterday, so I had to just put the ingredients [ice, milk, strawberries] in the cup with the tapioca, without blending it first.”

She fights me about getting a refund, too, asking me what I expect her to do without a working blender. I expect her to tell customers they can’t get any bubble tea because the blender’s broken, obviously, rather than charge people $6 for a cup of milk with stuff floating in it!

Short Nights Lead To Short Temper

, , , | Right | December 4, 2017

(I work at my local ice arena as a facilities attendant. My duties are pretty much janitorial. I am responsible for cleaning the change rooms as soon as possible and as many times as needed, keep the place looking presentable, and once everyone’s gone, doing a mad dash to clean the remaining change rooms, bathrooms, lobby, and sweep and mop the bleachers. We’ve been short-staffed lately, and because of this, I’ve had to pull in extra shifts, including what we call, “short nights,” meaning working an evening shift [4:00 pm to 12:30 am], then a day shift [7:30 am to 4:00 pm]. Last weekend I actually had to work from 3:30 pm to 1:00 am, then get back to work by 6:30 am as there was a hockey tournament starting. This is a conversation between a parent and I.)

Parent: “Hey, miss?”

Me: “Yes? Can I help you with anything?

Parent: “Oh, no. I was just wondering, weren’t you here last night?”

Me: “I was, actually. We’re short staffed at the moment, so I don’t mind.”

Parent: “Wow! Even if you’re short-staffed, you shouldn’t have to come in this early!”

Me: “I really don’t mind. It’s been a steady grind, so as long as I don’t sit down, I won’t pass out from exhaustion.” *cue my awkward, dry, laugh*

Parent: “That’s stupid! Why haven’t you complained? Aren’t you protected under the Union?”

Me: “Actually, every single worker here HAS complained. We have begged and pleaded with the town to not book any games with a start time before 8:30 am, as hockey players tend to arrive 45 minutes before games start. Yet the parents yell at the coaches that they want earlier start times, and the coaches book it accordingly. It’s completely out of our hands. All we can do is show up, unlock the doors, and wait for all of you to leave so we can clean up the mess. Which, by the way, meant that we were here until 1 am last night.”

(At this point I recognize her as a b****y council member and get even more p***ed off.)

Me: “If you were actually interested in my well-being, you would bring it up in council meetings that town workers are being pushed too far because of ice bookings. You’d help us petition to have the latest ice time be the 9:00 pm to 10:00 pm slot, not all the way up to 11:45. You’d convince the other parents to ask for a slightly later morning slot, instead of one that means I have to wake up at 5:30, after less than two hours of sleep, to get here at 6:30 to unlock doors. I know you don’t really care; you know you don’t really care. Now, please, it’s time for flood, and I have to help out with that.”

Parent: “…”

(I didn’t hear a peep from her the rest of the day. I think she told the other parents, as after that, everyone made sure that there was nothing for me to clean up afterwards. One of the other hockey team’s coaches also brought us coffee and muffins, as well, so that was a good boost. This weekend I have to pull another short night, with similar hours. Wish me luck.)

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