Hello Happy!

, , , , , , | Related | November 13, 2017

(My mom is a children’s librarian and is in charge of creating read-along programs for the kids. As she has partial hearing loss, she is not a big music fan, save for her kids’ songs she learns for her programs. I am visiting her at work one day when I see a picture book by Pharrell Williams with the words to his song “Happy.”)

Me: “Hey, Mom, did you see this? I know you’ve heard the song somewhere along the way. That’d be kind of cool for one of your programs!”

(I flip through the book, kind of humming the tune, while my mom tries to place it. She also flips through the book, mulling the idea over.)

Mom: “I don’t know who Pharrell Williams is. Is he popular in today’s music? Would the kids recognize the song?”

Me: *laughing* “I definitely think the kids would recognize the song. And yes, he is pretty popular, or at least some of his songs are. About as well-known as Adele.”

Mom: *blank stare* “Adele? Who’s he?”

Rock Solid Reason For Dismissal

, , , , , , , | Learning | November 13, 2017

(My kindergarten teacher doesn’t like me, probably because I am a bit of a smart-a**, correcting her on math, grammar, and seasons. Each student in the class has brought in a bag of rocks from our neighborhoods as homework. I am partnered with a boy in my class to talk about our selections.)

Me: ”These rocks are really hard. See?”

(I tap the bag on the kid’s head, not too hard.)

Partner: “Ow. Those are hard.” *continues eating snack*

(Then, my teacher proceeds to call me inside. She takes me to the reading corner, the one spot of the room that can be completely counted on to not be reached by security cameras. She then hits me over the head with the rocks so hard that I’m surprised I don’t get a concussion.)

Teacher: “Did you like that?”

Me: “No! I’m sorry! Please don’t do that again!”

(She then emailed my mom and let her know what happened. She never mentioned how she punished me, probably because physical punishment is illegal in my state’s schools. I didn’t tell my parents what really happened until about third grade because I thought it was my fault. She was retired by then, but if I had told my parents a bit sooner, we would’ve taken it to court and probably sued her.)

Unfiltered Story #98575

, , | Unfiltered | October 26, 2017

I work in a restaurant as both a waitress and a cashier. Many customers love our food because we use quality ingredients, and we have been in business for about 15 years, and are a community favorite. We even offer delivery. This particular night, I am working as a waitress, and I answer the phone for our new cashier, who is helping another customer. This caller is a regular, an eldery lady, ordering about once or twice a week for the last few years, and I recognize her voice immediately. She is always rude and condescending. I am taking her delivery order when we get to her salads:

Customer: “…I’d also like to add two side salads. I want a small greek, no tomato, no onion, no olives, and no peppers. I’d also like a small chef, just meat, cheese, and cucumbers. Got that? And I do NOT want silverware, or crackers. They’re just going to be thrown away.”

Me: Okay, ma’am. I have a small greek salad- lettuce, cheese, and cucumbers. Then I have a small chef salad, just lettuce, meat, cheese and cucumbers. The greek usually comes with our house dressing, would you like something else? Also, what kind of dressing for your chef?

Customer: I don’t need any dressings. I’ve got some here at the house. Don’t mess up my salads like last time, and I DON’T want any dressing, silverware, or crackers.

(I read back her entire order, she confirms, and I take her payment and tell her it’ll be 45-an hour. I then write down the salads very neatly on a checkpad and hand it to the cashier.)

Me: Hey, [Cashier]? I just got off the phone with Mrs. [Customer], and she placed a delivery. She ordered a couple of salads, but I need to go check on my tables. Would you be willing to make them?

Cashier: Sure. What do you need?

Me: Thank you! This is what she wanted, and how. Basically just meat, cheese, cucumber, and feta and cucumer. Just the salads, nothing else. And no dressing, either. Give them to [Driver] when you’re done.

(I finish my shift and think nothing more of it. The next night, I go into work and everyone is acting funny. I ask what’s up, and they direct me to the manager/owner. He pulls us into the back and pulls out his cellphone, he presses a few buttons, and then sets his phone down, and steps back.)

Voicemail: Yeah, hi, this is Mrs. [Customer], and I am NOT happy with my order last night. [Owner], do you make it a point to hire morons and idiots? I asked for my salads to be made a certain way, and when I got them, they had all sorts of crap on them! I couldn’t even eat them! And I specifically said I didnt want silverware or crackers, but I got them! I thought your greek salad was supposed to come with your house dressing? The dressing is what makes it greek. Why the hell didn’t I get any dressings? My pizza was burned, too! My husband and I waited so long for an incorrect order, and he ended up just going to bed without dinner! If your delivery boy was still here, I would’ve thrown my food at him! This is a disgrace. Ive been a loyal customer for years, and this is not the first time I’ve been treated like this. You need to hire employees that can actually do thier job! All of your cashiers are dumb, and you need to be training them better. I want a refund or some other compensation. I am not paying for this bullsh*t You have just lost a customer, and I am NEVER coming back! *click*

(Apperantly, this woman had somehow gotten my boss’s cell phone number, and left him a voicemail. I assume that the cashier made the salads normally, which could have been easily corrected by just picking pieces off. The “delivery boy” was a family member of the boss, in his 30’s, and was pretty intimidating looking, but pretty nice. Nobody got in trouble, and sure enough, the woman called back after about two weeks. This time, I made her salads (on the house), but she still complained that her pizza was cold. Since then, I’ve avoided answering the phone when I see her on the Caller ID.

They’re Vibrating On A Different Frequency

, , , , , , | Working | October 9, 2017

(I am in a novelty store, looking for a cheap vibrator as a gag gift. I’m in my 50s and the clerk is probably about 20. The clerk comes up with a smirk on her face, obviously expecting me to be embarrassed.)

Clerk: *said in the most condescending voice possible* “Can I explain anything to you? I know someone your age might not understand these.”

(Now I don’t have a lot of f***s to give. I stopped worrying about what people think years ago. I start picking up vibrators and explaining to her the pros and cons of each one. Loudly. She is turning redder and redder as several boys her age stop to watch.)

Me: “But I don’t buy my vibrators here. I go to [Store #1] or [Store #2]. These are cheap pieces of crap, but I want it as a gag gift. But I know people your age may not understand all of this. Can I explain anything else to you, honey?”

(I bet she doesn’t try to embarrass middle-aged people any more.)

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United In Your Reaction

, , , , , | Working | October 7, 2017

(We are on a plane about to embark. Just as the plane is going to push back, the pilot gets on the loudspeaker. We’ve been delayed because a late passenger pushed through the emergency door and touched the plane, so it’s a federal matter. We have to see what the TSA and police want to do. We overhear a conversation between another passenger and a flight attendant.)

Passenger: “So, you stopped that lady from getting on the plane? Did you have to tackle her?”

Flight Attendant: “No, I just put my hand out, like so, and stopped her.” *pause* “At least we didn’t go United on her.”

(Other passengers go silent as we all process what she just said and then we cracked up laughing.)

Flight Attendant: “Oh, dear. I can’t believe I said that. Am I turning red?”

(She was. All the passengers that heard her loved it. Luckily, we left almost on time and not too delayed.)

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