Being The Change You Want To See In The World

, , , , , , | Right | July 23, 2019

I am the bad customer, though unintentionally.

We went to our favorite sushi restaurant and it was packed. One waiter was running around, taking care of everyone, and doing his best. We could tell he was a good waiter but a bit flustered.

I did not receive one of our rolls we ordered, but we were stuffed by that point anyway, so we told him it was fine and he took it off our tab. We paid him in cash and he said he’d be right back with our change, but we told him to keep the change, tipped the sushi guy, and left happy.

I got home and realized I had too much money left — I knew how much I started with — and realized I had paid for our food, tipped the sushi guy, and stiffed the waiter! I immediately drove back, explained what had happened, and apologized. He was very gracious and said, “Well, drinks were a little slow, and I did miss one of your rolls.”

I told him he did a great job and that I was embarrassed that I had forgotten his tip, and gave him a few extra bucks. He held out his hand for a shake and thanked me for returning. I redeemed myself, but what a dummy! I am still cringing at my “keep the change,” remark as, at that point, it was literally just some change, about 11 cents. Ouch.

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Getting Through This Is Not As Easy As Pie

, , , , | Right | July 23, 2019

(I am in a coffee shop with my housemate and her dog. We are working on cover letters for applications. A man comes in carrying a peacoat. It’s eighty degrees outside here now, and only going to get hotter. He approaches us.)

Man: *with peacoat* “Hey, y’all wanna buy this peacoat? Ten bucks. I don’t need it no more; it’s summer. Ten bucks.”

Us: “No, thanks.” *returns to our work*

Man: “How about for a piece of pie?”

Me: “Well, it would have to fit one of us. I don’t know if it would fit either of us. It’s too big for her—“ *gesturing to roommate* “—and I have pretty big boobs.”

Man: “Naw, naw, it’ll fit, it’ll fit. You’ll see.”

Me: “Well, okay. Let’s see.” *tries on the peacoat, it fits*

Man & Roommate: “It fits perfectly!”

Me: “Let me look at it in the restroom.” *looks in the mirror, then returns to the table* “Let me look it up online and find out about it.” *checks the label, does a Google search*

Man: “It’s real wool. One hundred percent. That’s a nice coat.”

Me: *not wanting to rip off the man, or overpay* “Hmm, well, I am finding anywhere from sixty to seventy dollars to over one hundred dollars, which means it might be… ten or fifteen at [Thrift Store]?”

Man: “At least twenty at [Thrift Store]. At least. And think about it this way. You don’t have to go to [Thrift Store].”

Me: “That is true. Yeah, I’ll take it. What kind of pie?”

Man: “Coconut cream. And, uh, and, uh, a frappe.”

Me: *joking* “You said pie!”

(The man goes to order his coconut cream and frappe.)

Shop Girl: “Okay. Got it.”

Man: *gesturing with his arm sweep over the whole restaurant* “Uh, girl! Girl! Uh, girl! She was gonna pay…”

Me: *have silently slunk up behind the man* “I’m here.”

(I insert the card into the chip reader and decide to leave a tip.)

Me: *still teasing* “Are you sure you didn’t get that from [Thrift Store]? Or maybe a clothing bank? You didn’t steal it, did you?”

Man: “No, it was my father’s. It was my father’s. I just don’t want it no more.”

Me: “Okay. Thanks for the coat.”

(I sit down to begin working again. A woman wearing a bicycle helmet crouches down and gets right in my face.)

Woman: “You should not have taken that coat from that man. I’ll give you your money back for the pie and coffee if you give that man his coat back. That was a rip-off. You are just b****y.”

Man: *overhearing at the counter while claiming his pie* “What about the coat? It fits her perfectly!”

Me: “You might want to mind your own business in the future, and you also want to refrain from calling other women b****es.”

(The woman goes to another part of the coffee shop, and the shop girl comes over.)

Shop Girl: “Was she bothering you? I’m so sorry.”

Me: “No, she wasn’t bothering me. He offered to sell me his peacoat for pie and coffee, and I took him up on it. This woman told me he was ripping me off and called me b****y.”

Shop Girl: “What woman?”

(The woman raises her hand, as if in class. The shop girl crosses the cafe to talk to her.)

Woman: “I would never do that. I would never rip off the homeless or the poor or destitute. You ripped that man off. I’m not a bad person like that.”

Me: “He offered to give me that peacoat for pie and coffee, which was ten dollars. I looked up that coat online and it would probably cost around that at Goodwill. Pie and coffee was the deal he offered; it was what he wanted.”

Woman: *sarcastically* “Ooooh, so generous!”

Me: “Well, why don’t you run after him, then? He just left; you could probably catch him. Go give him a hundred dollars.”

Shop Girl: “He’s not homeless. He comes in here every week, trying to sell people things or give people things for pie and coffee. He gets angry and bothers the customers when they say no. He’s been a nuisance, honestly. The manager has talked about banning him. Anyway, he’s not homeless.”

Woman: “Well, I would just never do that. I don’t go around ripping people off.”

Me: “And I don’t go around getting in people’s faces, but I’ll make an exception this one time. You get out of here with your sanctimonious self. Go on. Just go!” *gestures to door*

(The woman leaves in silence.)

Shop Girl: “Please don’t let that keep you from coming in here again.”

Me: “No, next time I’ll come and tell you right away when a strange customer calls me a b****. I believe that’s a kick-out-able offense.”

Shop Girl: “Oh, definitely. Nobody should be calling anybody that around here.”

(Point of the story: I got a peacoat for a piece of pie on pie day — 3/14!)

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Boyfriends For Everyone!

, , , , | Right | July 16, 2019

(I’m a gay man in my mid-20s and have been in a long-distance relationship for about a year. I am at work helping customers when I notice two rather small ladies — no more than five feet tall — who look to be in their early 20s, looking at some large storage sheds that require at least two people to move.)

Me: *after approaching them* “Did you two need help with the storage sheds?”

(Neither responds, so as per policy, I try again.)

Me: “Did you two need help with anything today?”

Lady #1: “Look. I’m married and she has a boyfriend. We’re not interested!”

([Lady #2] just giggles.)

Me: “Yay! I’ve got a boyfriend, as well!” *shows her my ring that’s half of a matching set I bought us* “So, once again, I’m asking if you two need any help?”

(The two of them went red in the face and shook their heads, saying they didn’t need help. About twenty minutes later, a coworker called on the radio for help getting two storage sheds, and a male coworker and I went to help. It was for both of the ladies who I’d talked to before. I didn’t say anything; I let my coworker tell them we were going to take the shed to the front, and they looked embarrassed about the whole thing. I’m hoping this was a little bit of a lesson on not making assumptions, especially when it’s a worker at a store that has to ask if you need help.)

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Getting Between A Man And His Pizza

, , , , | Friendly | July 16, 2019

(A group of people from work tend to go together and grab pizza for lunch every Wednesday. The pizza place happens to be right next to a [Thrift Shop] and on this particular day I have a bunch of stuff to donate, so I offer to drive everyone so that I can stop and donate the items in my trunk. To avoid delaying everyone else, I drop the other three off at the front door before stopping next door and dropping off my stuff. When I get back to the pizza place, I find that my coworkers are halfway through the line, so I walk up to them and join the conversation again. As we finish waiting, I notice the guy right behind us in line is looking upset. I try to ignore him, but he seems to be staring at me angrily. I figure the best option is to just look elsewhere and pretend he doesn’t exist. After two of my coworkers go order, I head up to the counter. I order my pizza, and then feel someone next to me and turn to find that instead of my last coworker, the angry guy is right beside me and in my face.)

Angry Guy: “Think you’re better than us?”

Me: “What?”

Angry Guy: “Think you don’t have to wait in line? That you’re better than everyone else?”

(He’s getting aggressive and in my face enough I’m actually worried he might get violent, so I restrain myself from making any “what is this, kindergarten?” comments and try to defuse the situation.)

Me: *slowly* “No, I was just joining my friends.”

Angry Guy: “Think you can just skip past everyone else? That you’re better than them?”

Me: “No, I just thought I was joining my friends after dropping them off.”

(Then, my pizza was ready, so I grabbed it and left while he continued to glare at me. Thankfully, he didn’t follow me, and his food was to-go so he was out of the restaurant quickly. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, starting with pointing out he skipped past my last coworker. However, I didn’t feel getting punched was worth it, and he absolutely looked unhinged enough to do so if I gave him any provocation whatsoever. I’m still not entirely clear on what the proper etiquette is for whether you can join people in line that you dropped off; it’s possible I might have been in the wrong on that one. But I still wonder if he was on steroids or other aggression-causing drugs, because his response was so over-the-top. I have no idea why he was obsessed with people thinking they were better than him, but I kind of suspect that they are.)

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Unfiltered Story #158299

, , , | Unfiltered | July 15, 2019

(I was working in box office at night while “Straight Outta Compton” was playing. I get to the end of my line where there is a group of four people, three white, one black guy.)

Me: “Good evening, welcome to (theater).”

Girl: “Hi, could we get two adults and two students to…”

Black guy: “HOLD UP! We ain’t going in until you say the entire title of the the movie! Ain’t nobody going in *looking at me* don’t type nothing.”

Girl: “Four to NWA Straight Outta…”

Me: “Four to…”

Black guy: “*To me* Hold up! Don’t type nothing! *to girl* You gotta say the entire thing!”

Me: “*stifling laughter* I mean… he is giving you permission.”

Girl: “Okay. N-words with Attitude…”

Black guy: “No no no, the ENTIRE thing. *to me* Don’t type nothing. *to girl* Come on.”

Girl: “N****s with Attitude.”

Black Guy: “There ya go!”

Me: “Okay, four, and you said how many students?”

Guy 1: “Oh… I don’t have my student ID.”

Guy 2: “Yeah, me neither.”

Me: “Okay, so that’s four students for Straight Outta Compton.”

(Policy does say that I have to see a student ID in order to give one person a student discount. But, these guys made me laugh after a long day. I think that’s worth a discount!)