No Room For That Behavior

, , , | Right | March 16, 2018

(It is around four am and the phone rings. I pick it up.)

Me: “This is [Hotel]. May I help you?”

Man: *self-important tone* “Yes. I need a room, now.”

Me: “Sorry, but we have no more rooms here, now.”

Man: “Oh.” *expectant pause*

Me: “…”

Man: “…”

Me: “…”

Man: “Hellooooo?!”

Me: “Yes?”

Man: “Well?!”

Me: “Well, what?”

Man: “Aren’t you going to find me another room?! God almighty!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I only have access to our hotel’s data, so I can’t tell if any other hotel has space. You’ll have to call them yourself and ask.”

Man: “This is poor customer service! Any other hotel would be begging to find me another room at another hotel! I wouldn’t want to stay with you b****es, anyway!”

Me: “That’s good to hear, but if you curse at me, I’ll hang up.”

Man: “What did you say, you f****** b****?! Do you know who I am?!”

Me: *hangs up*

(It feels good to hang up on crazy people. I pity anyone who can’t!)

I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 31

, , , , | Right | March 16, 2018

(This story takes place after I have gotten off work at a well-known box store. I am still wearing the uniform: blue-collared shirt and khaki pants. Since the store I work in doesn’t have a device I am looking for, I go to the electronics store, which features the same colored uniform. At this moment, I’m the section for the devices, comparing prices and specs.)

Customer: “Hello.”

(As I have just gotten off work, my head instinctively goes up and I look around for a few seconds, only to chuckle as I remind myself that I’m just a customer at this store.)

Customer: “Hello!”

(Having finally decided which device I am going to buy, I turn to head out of the aisle and towards games to browse for a little bit while I’m suddenly stopped by a middle-aged man.)

Customer: “Hello! Didn’t you hear me calling for help?! And what do you think you’re doing? You’re not supposed to be shopping!”

(I take a step back in shock as I shake my head a little bit, confused.)

Me: “Huh?” *light bulb* “Oh, sorry, sir! I don’t wo—”

Customer: “Don’t give me that ‘I don’t work here’ bulls***. Why else would you be wearing that getup?!”

Me: “Sir, I don’t wo—”

Customer: “And besides, where’s your name-tag? I want to talk to your manager!”

(Realizing I’m not going to get anywhere with the man, I sigh softly before trying to find an employee, but as I’m walking away…)


(That is loud enough to cause an employee to approach with a confused expression.)

Employee: “Is something wrong here?”

Me: “Yes. This gent—”


(With a little bit of reluctance, the employee radios for a manager, forcing me to wait and taking up all of our time. Once the manager shows up, the customer goes into a full rant about how I was rude to him, shopping on the clock, not wearing my name-tag, etc.)

Manager: *finally able to answer* “He doesn’t work here. I’ve seen him at [My Store].”

Customer: “Oh! So, you admit you know he’s moonlighting! What’s your corporate number and your names?!”

(The manager, looking a little uneasy himself now, gives the number and we, just wanting to humor the guy now, give our names as he proceeds to call corporate to have us all fired.)

Customer: “Yes, I’m at your [Location] store, and three of your employees–” *lists our names* “–are prov…”

(I start to tune him out and stare around at other things, wanting to distract myself from the ignorance of the customer until I hear…)


Me: *now getting pissed off as it’s been at least 15 minutes, if not longer* “I… DO… NOT… WORK… HERE! SEE?!”

(I hope for the best and pull out my store employee discount card. The customer sees that and hangs up, turning red.)


Me: “I… tried… Never mind. Well, this’ll be the last time I come here in my [Box Store] outfit. Sorry. Though, would you mind if I headed to the checkout to pay for this?”

Manager: “Sure. Let me get you the ’employee’ discount, too.”

(I chuckled, but sure enough, he ran his card through for me and saved me quite a bit on the device. I have kept my promise and not worn my [Box Store] uniform in [Electronics Store].)

I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 30
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 29
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 28

It’s Time To Hang Your Hat

, , , , , , , | Working | March 16, 2018

(I worked in a mall throughout high school. After I went to college I was hired back for the following summer. Another employee I used to work with the previous year came back as well and started again a week before I did. Since most of the rest of the staff are high school kids, the two of us are the only ones working weekday mornings — high schools don’t get out for another month.)

Coworker #1: “You’ll like most of the new kids working here. They are all pretty cool, except for this one guy, who is a complete moron. I’m pretty sure he is stealing from the store, as well.”

(As if on cue, this particular new coworker walks in.)

Coworker #1: “[Coworker #2], what are you doing here? Don’t you have school?”

Coworker #2: “School is for p***ies; I don’t need school.”

(I stand there kind of in shock while he demands my coworker give him a free sandwich, before eventually leaving as my coworker declines. Before I have a chance to work a shift with this kid, he is fired for trying to walk out with an entire case of energy drinks while the owner is in the store. We think this will be the end of having to deal with him, but he is immediately hired at a hat store directly across from ours. He regularly comes in, trying to get people to give him free food. After about two weeks of him working at the other store, their manager comes in to chat with us.)

Hat Store Manager: “Hey, guys. I have a question about [Coworker #2]. He used to work here, right?”

Me: “Yeah, the owner fired him for stealing a few weeks ago.”

Hat Store Manager: “That’s what I figured. He told me he quit because you didn’t give him enough hours, but our entire inventory has been off since he started. Guess I should have checked over here before I hired him.”

(It turns out that in the short time he had been at the hat store, he had taken home a few dozen hats. His classmates told us he was trying to sell them at school, but no one would buy them because of how obvious it was they were stolen.)

It Takes A Marathon Effort To Make Her Realize

, , , , , | Right | March 16, 2018

(I am volunteering at my local half-marathon race, as a marshal at a junction where the road is closed to let the runners through. The race has happened on the same Sunday for the past four years. Before the race, the organisers and local council send letters to local residents who will be affected by road closures on the morning of the race, signs are put up six weeks before the event advising people of road closures, and volunteers go out a few days before the race to put leaflets on cars along the route warning drivers that the road will be closed while the event takes place. Still, people have trouble grasping the concept. The following takes place approximately five minutes before the last of the runners has passed my location. A woman in a car comes up to the “Road Closed” sign.)

Me: “Good morning. I’m sorry, but the road is currently closed for the half-marathon. Can I help you with an alternative route?”

Woman: “No! I only live on the next road. You have to let me through.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but the road is closed by law until the last runner has passed and we have permission from the sweep car to reopen.”

Woman: “This is nonsense! There is no one on the road! I only want to go just down there. I’m not going to run anyone over!”

Me: “I’ve been informed that the last runner is five minutes away. Once they have passed, we will reopen the road.”

Woman: “I can’t wait five minutes! I have ice cream in the car! I have desserts in the car! They are all going to be ruined!

Me: “Okay, well, I can offer you two options. Either you can park your car here and walk–” *she interrupts to tell me she can’t possibly walk “all that way”* “–or, as I said, you can wait here for five minutes until we open the road.”

Woman: “NO! You must let me through!” *picks up box of ice creams and waves it at me* “I HAVE ICE CREAM IN THE CAR! I demand you give me the telephone number of whoever organised this ridiculous event. I DEMAND COMPENSATION FOR MY ICE CREAM!”

Me: “You can find contact details for them on the website. I cannot let you through until I have permission to reopen the road. There are still runners on the course, and they all have a right to run their race safely.”


(She executed a screaming three-point turn and zoomed off in the opposite direction. Lo and behold, two minutes later, the last runner came past and we were given permission to reopen the road.)

No Rest Even In The Restroom

, , , , , | Friendly | March 15, 2018

(I’m an 18-year-old female. I go to a party at the house of some friends. It’s a very family-friendly party. There are people of all ages there including lots of kids. There is no alcohol, but there is lots of good food. When I arrive, I warmly greet various friends, including a man much older than me. We’re not close friends, but we do know each other from previous encounters. He makes small talk with me as we both move through the house. I’m in a good mood, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere of the party, and smiling as we talk. I’m headed for a hallway with a bathroom, and I assume he’s heading for the nearby kitchen, where the biggest crowd of people are helping themselves to food. But as I start to enter the bathroom, he’s right on my heels.)

Me: “Oh, were you going in here? I’m sorry.”

(I step back away from the door.)

Man: “No, I’m going in there with you.”

Me: *taken aback* “Um, why?”

Man: “In case you needed help.”

(I am flabbergasted for a moment, and then creeped out, and then angry.)

Me: “I don’t need help peeing, thanks.”

Man: “Are you sure?”

Me: *feeling really angry now* “Yeah. I’m sure.”

(I closed the door with me inside the bathroom and him outside it. I locked the door. If you’re ever in a situation where an old man mistakes your friendly demeanor for flirting, don’t do what I did: lock yourself alone in a bathroom until you calm down and then spend the rest of the party avoiding that old man without telling anyone what happened. Thankfully, he seemed to be embarrassed and avoided me as much as I did him for the rest of the party. Looking back, years later with more life experience, I know now how lucky I was that day, and that I should have immediately gone looking for the hosts of the party for help.)

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