Right Working Romantic Related Learning Friendly Healthy Legal Inspirational Unfiltered

Should Have Retired That Argument When You Did

, , , , | Right | November 20, 2018

(I am working the cloakroom at a huge theatre where one of Wagner’s operas is playing. Since Wagner was Hitler’s favourite musician and was kind of antisemitic himself, these performances tend to bring out a lot of racists. I am working the cloakroom with the second-in-command supervisor, who is very obviously not Caucasian and speaks German quite well, though with an accent. It is summer, so there aren’t many coats, and my supervisor has gone dealing with a customer elsewhere when a 75-year-old lady in a fur coat arrives and checks it in with me. A few minutes later she comes back while I am serving another customer and wants to check her vest, as well.)

Me: *to my colleague* “It’s [number]; just put it with the fur coat.”

Colleague: “Could I please just check the number to make sure?”

Customer: *handing her the number* “Well, you can trust your colleague. Even though our country is getting more stupid every day due to immigration.”

(She leaves. We look at each other in a “What’s her problem?” manner and shrug it off. At the end of the performance, the woman is one of the last ones to pick up her coat, so I am already clearing the area, when I see her arguing with my colleague.)

Customer: “You should really be more friendly to Austrian people!”

Colleague: “I’m sorry, what?”

Customer: “You get to stay and eat here, while we each pay hundreds of Euros in taxes every month for you to get everything here for free!

Colleague: “I pay taxes here, too.”

Customer: *continues her rant* “…and all you people just come here and take everything, and there is nothing left for us!”

(I step in, because even though my colleague speaks German very well, she just can’t defend herself against a rant in a deep Viennese dialect.)

Me: “Madam, she works over two hundred hours a month, and she pays taxes. Please don’t assume—”

Customer: “Now you just shut up! You have no idea what I’m talking about! These foreigners just keep coming here, and they live off of our taxes while we have to work and pay for everything!”

(I’m fuming by now, and I’m not holding back, because the first-in-command is my colleague’s best friend, so I’m not really worried about consequences.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you are clearly retired, so if anything, you are living off of her taxes. Now, please leave, and if you have a problem with me now, you can take it up with my Albanian supervisor, the Columbian theatre supervisor, or the French Head of the House!”

(She left grumbling. Over the next two weeks she came to three more Wagner performances. At the next one, I saw her look at me and walk over to the other cloakroom just to come back and check her coat with me ,anyway; the other cloakroom was worked by two Egyptians. As the person who almost yelled at her for being racist, I still was the most desirable option as the most Aryan-looking of all of the cloakroom people. By the third performance, she just left her coat at home.)

1 Thumbs
600

A First Class Sob Story

, , , | Right | November 19, 2018

(I am standing in line to get a seat assignment for a flight from Vienna to New York. A young woman in front of me is called to the agent and immediately starts in on a sob story.)

Woman: “I need to be upgraded to first class. I get air-sick if I don’t have enough room.”

Agent: “I’d be happy to upgrade you. The difference in fare is [price]. I can charge that to a credit card if you’d like.”

Woman: “You don’t understand. I cannot pay that. You need to upgrade me at no charge so I don’t get sick.”

Agent: “I understand that, ma’am, but if you want to be upgraded, you need to pay the fare difference.”

Woman: *starts crying* “But I need to be upgraded.”

(This goes back and forth for a while with the agent calmly responding to her demands as she gets more and more agitated. Finally, she starts yelling at him.)

Woman: “I see you don’t care and you want me to be sick! When I’m sick on the plane, it will be your fault because you didn’t upgrade me.”

(The agent has had enough.)

Agent: “Ma’am, the only way I can upgrade you is if you pay the price difference. I’m happy to do that for you, but otherwise I cannot upgrade you. Unless you want to pay that, I’m going to have to insist that you take the seat I’ve assigned you and stop wasting the time of everyone behind you.”

(She stomps off, still crying, and I am called to the counter. The agent greets me with a huge smile and says:)

Agent: “Sir, it’s your lucky day. I’ve got an exit row seat available with no seat in front of it and extra room with priority boarding. Would you like that seat?”

(I gladly accepted it and looked over to see Little Miss Entitled glaring daggers at me and the agent. Unfortunately, I didn’t see any evidence that she had learned that treating people with respect rather than demanding things with patently phony requests might serve her better.)

1 Thumbs
686

Retail Larceny On The Rise, As It Turns Out Management Apparently Assisting Thieves

, , , , , | Working | November 14, 2018

I am shopping in a very touristy shop in a major tourist area, and have piled my arms with souvenirs, some of them quite pricey. I spot a rack of bottles of different flavours of grappa, each with a spout hanging down with a button to express the liquid. Underneath the rack is a shelf containing dozens of tiny, plastic shot glasses of the type commonly used for free samples — some used — as well as giant signs reading, “FREE SAMPLES.” It is completely commonplace for places like this to offer free samples, and in fact, I’ve never seen one that didn’t.

I press the button on one bottle and help myself to a sample — literally about a teaspoon — of some grappa.

Suddenly the owner rushes up to me and snatches the glass from me, screaming, “NO SELF SERVICE!” before pushing me out of the door.

In his rush to get rid of me for committing the crime of tasting one of the free samples, he doesn’t notice my hands are still full of the products I’ve been intending to purchase.

I am not a thief, so I don’t leave with them, but I am not willing to go back inside the shop. I leave the products on the pavement outside. Oh, well, rude shop owner. I hope no one else comes along and steals them!

1 Thumbs
431

I’d Be Grim, Too, With A Name Like That

, , , , , | Right | October 12, 2018

(At our store, you can look up a customer’s account using their name and some other details to save their purchase or receipt. A woman storms into the shop and up to the counter — I guess already not satisfied by something outside the store — with a grim look on her face, and buys a pack of batteries.)

Customer: “Kneel down!”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: *even louder* “KNEEL DOWN!”

(My coworkers and I look all confused, as we have no idea what to do.)

Customer: *loud and slowly* “MY NAME! KNEEEEEL DOOOOOOWN!”

(Her name… I looked it up for her purchase. Her name was Ms. Kneeldown.)

1 Thumbs
482

Totally Driving This Conversation

, , , , , | Learning | October 5, 2018

(It’s my second driving lesson, and I have a different instructor this time: a woman in her forties who seems very nice and motherly. At the start of the lesson, I’m rather happy and smiling because I’ve finally gotten some feeling for the gear shift. This happens after we’ve been driving around for maybe fifteen minutes, all the while making small-talk. This is a bit stressful for me, since it’s rather distracting, but I figure she knows better than I do.)

Instructor: “Yes, I like driving around with you young folk; I always meet new people with new perspectives. It’s really refreshing.”

Me: *trying not to be too distracted* “That sounds nice.”

Instructor: “You know, people tell me all sorts of things.”

(She waits for an answer, but I’m too busy entering a roundabout.)

Instructor: “Especially the girls. I like having a girl-to-girl talk, you know? Most girls know they can trust me, and we get along immediately.”

Me: “Oh, yes?”

Instructor: “Yeah, just like with you. Most girls tell me all about their problems. You know, if you have any problems, you can talk to me.”

(I break for a jaywalker, HARD, and the car dies, but she doesn’t react at all.)

Instructor: “You can tell me anything you like. A few girls told me about how they were abused at home or by friends.”

Me: “Oh, wow.”

Instructor: “You can tell me if you were abused, okay? If there is anyone doing things to you you don’t like, you can tell me. Did something happen to you?”

Me: “No.”

Instructor: “Well, if you want to talk about it, you can always come to me.”

(The rest of the lesson went in a similar vein. At the end, I was barely holding it together from the stress of driving for the second time ever, looking out for people crossing the street, and trying to hold up this uncomfortable conversation, and I felt worse than after the first lesson. I don’t think she was trying to be as creepy as she was, implying and probing about bad things happening to me, and she didn’t do it during later lessons, but I never felt at ease around her.)

1 Thumbs
361