Peppered With Inaccuracies

, , , , | Right | February 13, 2019

(My sister and I both work at a 99-cent-only store and my sister is working the morning shift. She’s a cashier so she deals with a lot more customers than I do. The way that the register is set up allows the customers to see the prices pop up on the screen as the items are scanned. For produce you need to punch in a code and weigh the item or enter the quantity. For some of the items, we put four produce items in a bag — in this case bell peppers — and they sell for a dollar. Individual bell peppers are two for a dollar.)

Sister: *ringing up a lady, enters the code for the bagged peppers which comes up to a dollar*

Customer: “Wait, no, no. That should be two for a dollar.”

Sister: “Oh, I’m sorry, but only individual bell peppers are two for a dollar. Our pre-bagged produce is a dollar.”

Customer: “No! There’s a sign over the bell peppers that says two for 99 cents!”

Sister: *being as calm as possible despite how annoyed she was* “I’m sorry, but that’s only for individual bell peppers. All of our produce that is in these green mesh bags cost a dollar.”

(The customer, of course, keeps insisting that she is right and is demanding the “correct price.” My sister is just about ready to call for a manager but instead calls our produce lead over who then explains to the woman the EXACT same thing. I’m unsure of how it all ended but the woman that came after the woman who screamed at my sister for “being wrong” was just flabbergasted.)

Customer #2: “Jesus Christ.”

Sister: “Yep.”

Getting Hot Under The Neighborly Collar

, , , , , , | Right | February 13, 2019

While not a popular item, we sell electric dog collars. I recently received a call from a customer asking how she should go about putting one on a dog…

Her neighbor’s dog.

Fake Stranger Danger Danger

, , , , , | Related | February 12, 2019

(My brother has a wicked sense of humor and loves to troll people. He never means any real harm by it, but not everyone knows how to handle it. Our mother has been forced to learn from experience. We’re shopping with our mother and my fourteen-year-old brother. This is also during an era when there was a string of commercials on television about what children should do if a stranger tries to take them from a store.  On this particular day my brother has been bored and is dragging his feet.)

Mother: *to brother* “Will you come on already? We’re almost done.” *tugs on his arm at this point*

Brother: *throws himself to the floor* “THIS ISN’T MY MOMMY!”

(Everyone around us stops to stare. I expect my mother tear into him, but instead, she stays completely calm.)

Mom: “Well, if I’m not your mother, I guess I don’t have to give you a ride home or feed you any of this.”

Brother: *sheepishly gets to his feet*  

(He did not try that one again.)

Marriage, Thy Name Is Nepotism

, , , | Working | February 12, 2019

(I work at this small IT office. The boss’s wife is one of my coworkers; she can be very bossy and has a temper. I have worked here for almost a year now, mostly ignoring her outbursts.)

Me: “Good morning. I am calling you for a ticket that was made by your company yesterday. It was issued by Mr. [Employee].”

Company: “Sorry, but Mr. [Employee] is not available right now; he is sick at home.”

(Ten minutes later I hear the boss’s wife talking to another coworker.)

Boss’s Wife: “I still need to call Mr. [Employee]. He wanted to talk to me about some pricing issues.”

Me: “Oh, he’s sick. I’ve just talked to his company on the phone.”

Boss’s Wife: “STOP LISTENING IN! I’M GROWN UP; I CAN MAKE MY OWN CALLS. IF I WANT TO CALL HIM, I WILL!”

Me: “Wow, calm down. Sorry. I did not mean to decide for you. I just heard you saying his name… and you are sitting next to me.”

Boss’s Wife: “YOU HAVE NO REASON TO LISTEN IN ON MY CONVERSATION. I WILL TAKE THIS TO THE BOSS!”

(She runs out, clearly very angry.)

Coworker: “Well, now you’ve done it. You’ve been the twelfth new guy to piss her off. It was nice knowing you.”

Me: “She can’t seriously fire someone over this… can she?”

(And yes, two hours later, I was given two minutes to clear my desk, without even a chance to say goodbye to my colleagues.)

The Cake Is A Die

, , , , , | Related | February 12, 2019

My sister and I have had a tenuous relationship for most of our lives. I was the little sister who worshipped her; she was the big sister who wanted nothing to do with me. You get the picture? We grew up, and I moved away and got married. She changed from the self-centered bully who ignored me unless she wanted something from me into a giving, intelligent woman, and our relationship slowly mended… until she started planning her wedding.

A thing you need to know is I have several life-threatening allergies: peanut, mushroom, and tomato. Life-threatening in the way that if I am in the same room of any of these and breathe them I can die. Literally die. I almost have three times. I inherited two of the three allergies from my father and have had them my entire life; they’ve been getting steadily worse until they reached this point of complete anaphylaxis.

Anyway, my sister was planning her wedding, specifically the food, and her first choice of meals was Italian. Tomatoes and mushrooms. Her logic was that Dad and I could eat something else, and maybe if we sat by an open door we’d be fine. I repeatedly told her that if I was in the same room as these foods they could kill me.

She did not listen. She went as far as to begin to book the caterers for the wedding until my dad stepped foot in their kitchens and immediately had a reaction. Suddenly, she pulled back and decided that if Dad was having health issues she didn’t want to risk it because she needed him there. So, she went another direction.

Then came the wedding cake. She wanted to have it topped with peanut butter frosting. I spent weeks trying to get her to comprehend that even if she made a tiny cake for just her and her husband to share, if it was in the room, I could not be there. It took my parents intervening to convince her not to have it.

I love my sister dearly and I understand wanting to have your way at your wedding but demanding I be in a room that could kill me just so she could have a specific type of food… yeah.

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