(I am trying to get to Calgary for Christmas. Unfortunately, a snowstorm shuts down my local airport on the afternoon of December 21 before I can fly out, and I wind up spending the night on a bench. There are no more seats available to Calgary before the 25th, so I take a flight to Edmonton on the 24th, reasoning that one way or another, I can get to Calgary from there. The following takes place while I am waiting at a boarding gate in Edmonton to exchange my stand-by ticket for a boarding pass. The flight is maybe 20 minutes behind schedule.)
Teenage Girl: *haranguing the airline employee about the flight being late and not being allowed to smoke in the airport* “I’ve been waiting for TWO HOURS…”
Me: *interrupting* “I’ve been trying to get to Calgary since Sunday.”
Teenage Girl: *spins around and gapes at me* “What?”
Me: *briefly explains*
Teenage Girl: “You need to complain more! I’d have been in their face…”
Me: *interrupting* “Some guy tried that. He got tasered and arrested.”
Teenage Girl: *shuts up and goes back to the lounge*
Airline Employee: “Thanks!”
(My province has recently adopted a carbon tax, which is charged on various types of fuel. It’s built into the cost of items and is not added on at the till the way GST is. A young customer comes to my till with a six pack of beer. My store does not include sales tax and recycling deposit on our price tags, so the price of his beer jumps from $14.95 to $16.34 at the register.)
Customer: “Man, f*** the carbon tax!”
Me: “Why do you say that?”
Customer: “It’s making my beer more expensive! The lady at the last store told me it was because of the carbon tax. Why else would it be sixteen bucks?!”
Me: “We charge the standard 5% GST plus a recycling deposit of 10 cents per can. Also, the carbon tax doesn’t directly impact the price of alcohol; it’s only charged on fuels like gas, diesel, propane…”
Customer: “But the lady at the last store said I had to pay four bucks for the carbon tax!”
Customer’s Friend: “Well then, the lady at the last store screwed you out of four bucks, man!”
I work at a small independent coffee shop as a barista. We have a number of regular customers whom I recognize. One night, I get a phone call saying there’s been a flood at the shop and when I go to check the damage, I realize we won’t be able to open in the morning, it’s so bad. I put up several signs on the windows, and one huge one on the doors that says “We are CLOSED today due to flood damage. Will be re-opening soon. Thanks for your patience.”
In the morning, I’m there with a few coworkers, salvaging what we can and cleaning what we can, when we hear loud banging noises at the front door. We ignore it and keep working, but it happens two or three more times, to the point of irritation. I finally go to the door and open it up to find one of our most regular customers standing there. I ask her why she’s there and she says “well, for my morning coffee, of course” as she’s trying to move past me into the building. I keep her from entering and tell her that as per the signs, we are closed.
Without even blinking an eye, she looks straight at me and says, “well, maybe for strangers, but not for your regular customers!”
I made her a coffee.
Me: “Okay, sir, your total is $12.90.”
Customer: *pulls card out and waves it around in the air*
Me: “Sorry, is that credit or debit?”
Customer: *continues to wave the card around in the air*
Me: “Gift card it is.”
When I was six, my family went on vacation to Mexico. While there, my dad purchased a rather large, fancy bottle of rum. My parents decided that, as I didn’t know what alcohol was at that point, they would tell me it was “Special Syrup.”
The morning after we returned I got up really early, as I was super excited for something I had been for half the trip. When my mom woke up, I ran up to her, with the excitement in my eyes, and said, “Mommy, I want pancakes for breakfast, with the SPECIAL syrup!”
My mom realized her mistake when she had to tell a sobbing me that I wasn’t allowed to have the special syrup.
