Pregnant With Rage

, , , , , , | Right | October 20, 2017

(I’m pregnant, which means I can’t carry anything heavier than five pounds. My boyfriend and I are checking out at the store. One of the things we’re buying is a six-pound package of pork, so when the cashier bags it, I wait for my boyfriend to pay so he can move it.)

Customer: “Wow, you’re lazy!”

Me: “Huh?”

Customer: “Not moving the bag that’s pretty clearly there. Waiting for your manservant to get it?”

Me: “I can’t pick it up.”

Customer: “Why? Because you’re a lazy fat-a**?”

Boyfriend: “No, she’s pregnant and picking it up could cause us to lose the baby. Now f*** off and mind your own business.”

(The customer glares at us and walks off. My boyfriend apologizes to the cashier.)

Boyfriend: “Sorry about the language.”

Cashier: “Don’t worry about it; I would have said the same thing.”

Your Leave Sheet Is Mud

, , , , , , | Working | October 20, 2017

(I overhear my boss on the phone. It is Monday.)

Boss: “Okay, thanks for letting me know. I’ll put it down on your leave sheet.”

(Pause.)

Boss: “Yes, it does have to go down as annual leave. See you on Wednesday.” *hangs up*

Me: “What was that about?”

Boss: “You know that [Coworker] has been at [Music Festival]?”

Me: “Yes.”

Boss: “Well, she booked today off and was going to come into work tomorrow, but when she and her friends sobered up this morning they realised that their car had sunk into the mud, so they won’t be able to set off before this evening at the earliest. I told her that tomorrow would be annual leave, and she asked if it had to be. It’s not sick leave and it’s not compassionate leave, so yes.”

Me: “And it’s rather difficult to be compassionate towards someone who voluntarily goes to stay in a muddy field…”

Your Son Has Something To Tell You…

, , , , | Right | October 19, 2017

(I work as a manager for a supermarket. During times like Mother’s Day or Father’s Day we get in vast amounts of certain items that all go on offer. I have to jump on the checkouts to serve, as my current checkout operator needs a break. A male customer has come to my checkout holding flowers and a card for Mother’s Day. Please bear in mind that it is already Mother’s Day and we have sold through most of our stock.)

Me: “Hi there. How are you, and would you like any bags today?”

Customer: “No, I don’t want any of your f****** bags! What I do want to know is why [Store] employees are all a bunch of extortionate, immoral d****es?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. Is there a problem? And if so, how can I help?”

Customer: “Oh, you can’t help me; all you workers are just mindless sheep, and you are the worst. You’re lower than dirt!”

(I take this a lot, so it doesn’t really bother me. His bill isn’t even that much; it is around £6.00.)

Me: “Well, that’s £6, sir.”

(He then threw the money down and walked away. Little did he know, though, his card said:

To Mum
Happy Mother’s Day
With love
From your Daughter)

An Expensive Temper Tantrum, Part 2

, , | | Right | October 19, 2017

Throwback ThursdaysTHROWBACK THURSDAY! Check out this awesome story that you may have missed! What’s an amazing karma experience you’ve had? Let us know in the comments!

 

(Back story: I sold a woman four phones on a family plan for her and her three teenage daughters. She insisted that she be put on the 500 minute plan (the smallest family plan). I informed her that most teenagers can use 500 minutes in a week and begged her to take a larger plan. She refused and became quite angry and belligerent with me for suggesting that her daughters “were not responsible adults.” I noted on her account that she was advised of all overage charges and that there were to be no refunds on the account for overage charges. One month later she returns purple faced and on the verge of a stroke with her $3,200 phone bill.)

Customer: “I need these charges taken off.”

Me: “No. I explained the overage scale to you when you activated your phone, and begged you to take a larger plan. You insisted this was the one you needed and I cannot refund any of the charges.”

Customer: “F**k you then, and f**k [Cellphone Provider]. Cancel my account!”

Me: “I’ll be happy to deactivate your phones but unfortunately that does not release you from your contract. There will be a $240.00 charge for each phone on the account for breaking your contract and you will still be responsible for the current charges.”

(The customer suddenly throws her phone at my head. I duck and it smashes into the wall in a million pieces.)

Customer: “F**K [Cellphone Provider]! F**K YOU, AND F**K ALL OF YOU A**HOLES, TOO!”

(Inexplicably, the last part was directed at the other customers waiting patiently for her to finish. She then proceeds to storm out to her car, a brand new Lexus SC 430. She redlines the engine, drops it into gear, and hits a lamp post hard enough to shatter every piece of glass in the car as well as almost tearing the front half of the car off.)

Customer: *comes back in the store* “Can I use your phone?”

Another Customer: “Karma’s a b**ch, ain’t it?”

 

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Bussing Bus Tables

, , , , | Right | October 18, 2017

(I’m working at a popular sandwich shop in a college town. I’m closing with two other employees the night of my college’s big winter formal dance. We close at 10:00 pm and we’re all hoping to get out early in order to make the dance. Unfortunately, it’s been a busy night, so come 9:50 pm, we’re only just starting closing procedures. I’m putting chairs on the tables in the dining room when a customer comes through the door looking frantic.)

Customer: “Are you all still open? Can we still order?”

Manager: “Sure, we’ve still got the food out and we’re open for another ten.”

Customer: “Great, thank you so much!”

(He ran out of the restaurant… which is when I noticed the bus. He came back in with about 30 people in tow: a junior varsity and a varsity volleyball team and all of their chaperones. They not only ordered 30-plus sandwiches and beverages, they also went to the dining room and pulled down the chairs I put up, since they planned on eating in. The manager said nothing since we all knew our boss would throw a fit if we did anything to lose the customers. It took 30 minutes for everyone to get their food. I began cleaning up around the crowd, hoping this would signal that we were closed and they needed to hurry up and leave. It didn’t. We didn’t get them out until 11:00 pm, which was when we could finally start closing the front of house. Nobody thanked us as they left, and our tip jar, which we’d divided earlier before the group walked in, was still completely empty. The only good thing to come out of the night was our manager pouring us all a few pints of beer to try to make closing more tolerable — and my friends all waiting for me before heading to the dance.)

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