Keep The Cleaning To A Condom-Minimum

, , , , | Right | August 12, 2018

(I’m a house cleaner. I have just started working for a new client, and I have found dirty clothes, crusty tissues, and some used condoms in the room of their teenage son. I do my job, throw away the garbage, and do the laundry. The next week the son is waiting for me:)

Client’s Son: *very angry* “Did you take stuff from my room last week?! Who the f*** do you think you are?! Who gave you the right to touch my personal belongings?!”

(Thinking he is upset because I washed his clothes, including some boxers, or maybe because I dusted his Playboy posters, I try to resolve the issue.)

Me: “I’m sorry; when I discussed my chores around the house with your parents, they gave me permission to clean every room and do the laundry. If you don’t feel comfortable with me touching your clothes, or if you don’t want me to clean your room, we could discuss this with your parents and edit my contract as to not include those things. Is that okay?”

Client’s Son: *slowly getting even angrier* “What the f***? It’s your freaking job to clean my s***! But it’s f****** creepy you stole my condoms! Give them back!”

Me: *completely baffled* “Um… I threw those out. I can assure you that they are not in my possession; I just put them in the garbage. I’ll remember not to do that in the future.”

Client’s Son: *looks at me suspiciously* “You had better not use my sperm to get pregnant, you hear me?! I won’t pay! And stay out of my room!” *runs out the door*

(I cleaned the house except for his room, and informed the clients that their son would prefer if I stayed out of his room. They made a small remark about “teenagers and their issues” and agreed I’d better leave his room alone, and I ended up working there for six years. Their son never spoke another word to me.)

Unfiltered Story #118187

| Unfiltered | August 11, 2018

(I’m a customer in a little fast-food stand where people can order and take their food away. The two employees running the stand have a slightly darker skin, but are both very fluent in Dutch, the language of our region. While they are processing my order, a woman rushes up to us.)
Woman: *starts speaking fast and incoherent*
Employee: *In Dutch* “Could you repeat that, please?”
Woman: *In Dutch* “OH MY GOD, WE ARE IN BELGIUM HERE! SPEAK DUTCH!”
Me: *Also in Dutch* “Madam, these two people speak Dutch perfectly fine. If you can just calm down and tell what you need, they will help you.”
(The woman was startled someone actually replied to that and turns to me.)
Woman: *Again in Dutch* “Oh, well, um… I uh… I just wanted to go to the train counters…”
(I show her the way and she goes off.)
(Apparently, she was intimidated by me, even though I am very skinny. I did however wear my thick jacket, which made me look more buff than I actually am.)

Unfiltered Story #117753

| Unfiltered | July 27, 2018

*The store I work at not only sells computers, printers and the like, but also offers repairs on said products. One thing that should be noted, is that we rarely repair printers. If they are still under warranty, we ship them to the manufacturer, otherwise we’ll try a few simple repairs. If those dont work, we usually offer to buy a new one, since a out-of-warranty repair can be realy costly. This just happens on a random, slow day*

Slightly elderly gentleman enters the store, holding something that I cant realy place.

Me: ‘Hi there! What’cha got for us?” *Indicating to the device*
Customer, in a loud voice the entire time he’s in my store: “Hi. Eh… Its a printer. It doesnt work I’m afraid”
*Thats when he puts it on the counter, and I recognise it as a 2 decade-old model*
Me: “Oh, sorry to hear that. One small thing though, I dont think we can fix it. Its allmost as old as I am (I’m 22) so the warranty expired. Atleast, I’m sure its safe to assume it did. And our technicians can’t fix printers, certainly not 2 decade old ones. At this point, I’d say it did its work, and you might want to consider buying a new one.”
Customer: “WHAT? WHY WOULD I BUY A NEW ONE? JUST FIX IT DAMMIT!”
Me, unfazed by his outburst (working IT does that to you): “Sorry sir, but we’d have a hard time finding manuals and replacement parts. Besides, a new basic printer will only cost you about 40 euros, which is far less than what the repair would cost you”
Customer: “Fine, I’ll buy it”
*I process the transaction without further incident*
Customer: “Ooh, I also want to buy a new desktop”
Me, ever so slightly irritated that he didnt mention before: “Sure thing. A basic, pre-build desktop will set you back a good, say 450 to 500 euros. A simple, garden variety desktop” *Glosses over the specs, and what you can do with it*
Customer: “Does it have WiFi?”
Me: “Built in? No. Our desktops, unless they are custom built, rarely if ever have WiFi. But, a USB WiFi antenna works wonders.”
Customer: ‘NO! I want it built in! I know you sell a [Laptop/part manufacturer] desktop with WiFi”!
Me: “As far as I know, we dont sir. As a matter of fact, [Manufacturer] doesnt actually make desktops. They make desktop parts and laptops, sure. But not pre-built desktops. You sure you didnt see a laptop? *Shows [Manufacturers laptops]
Customer: ‘NO! I know a desktop from a laptop! Just give me the desktop with WiFi!
Me: “Cant give you what I dont have sir. Here, thats a list of all the desktops we have in our system. *Lists off the brands*. Can’t see a single [Manufacturer] I’m afraid.
Customer: “GODDAMMIT! FINE! ILL COME BACK TOMORROW WITH A PRINTOUT OF THE MODEL OF YOUR WEBSITE AND YOU’LL SEE” *Storms out*
Collegue, at the next register: “I wonder if he comes back”
Me: “Kinda hope so, he left his new printer here”

*He never did, or if he did, never asked about his printer. And since we dont have a number on file, we cant call him*

Walking A Tightrope Of Etiquette

, , | Right | July 23, 2018

(A few days before this exchange happens, I had a pretty bad fall whilst trying to walk on a tightrope, and as a result, I have a few nasty bruises on my arm. I also get dark circles under my eyes as soon as I’m the least bit tired, and don’t bother hiding them.)

Customer: *spotting the bruises on my arm* “Oh, dear, what did you do?”

Me: “I fell down in a trampoline park, but it looks worse than it is, don’t worry!”

Customer: “Ah, well, at a certain age you really get too old for such silliness…”

(I just turned 27.)

Me: “Well, I’m not that old… Besides, it wasn’t really the trampolines but the tightrope-walking that got me!”

Customer: “Yeah, that must have been some fall! I can see it on your face, as well!”

Me: “Umm… No, that’s what I always look like.”

(She didn’t even apologize; she just laughed. I still don’t get why people feel the need to comment on the appearance of strangers.)


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A Nice Dungeon Wedding

, , , , , | Friendly | July 22, 2018

(The cafe I work at has a group of regulars who play Dungeons & Dragons at a corner table in the weekend. It’s generally funny to listen in on the game when it’s quiet.)

Dungeon Master: “The thugs attack you. Congratulations; it’s a bar fight. Initiative, please.”

Girl Playing Wizard: “I will hide under the table and plug my fingers into my ears.”

(The rest of the players give her this slightly amused look.)

Girl Playing Wizard: “My character is a bookworm and a coward. Deal with it.”

(Every time she routinely hides during combat — in a wardrobe or a bush, polymorphing into a tree or turning invisible and stomping her feet in place to simulate running away — the group loves it. Later on in the campaign:)

Dungeon Master: *sighs heavily* “The innkeeper’s daughter, charmed and fascinated by your stories, is now in love with you.”

Guy Playing Bard: “Nice!”

Dungeon Master: “She’s sixteen. Her father calls the town guard.”

Guy Playing Bard: “Wait… Oh… What?”

(Cue a twenty-minute discussion about whether the age of consent applies in a largely medieval fantasy setting, before putting it up to vote with us and the patrons listening in. The bard is sent to jail with all votes — jokingly — against him. The adventure moves to breaking the bard out of jail.)

Dungeon Master: “The cell door is locked.”

Girl Playing Rogue: “I try to pick the lock.” *fails*

Girl Playing Wizard: “I think I have a spell for–”

Guy Playing Fighter: “I stuff my stick of dynamite in the lock to blow it open.”

(Total table silence.)

Guy Playing Fighter: “Hey, if it works!”

(Much later in the campaign:)

Girl Playing Wizard: “I cast…. uh… Charm Person on the warlord?”

Dungeon Master: “He throws his axe down and grasps your hand, proposing to you on the spot.”

Girl Playing Wizard: “I try to politely reject him!”

Dungeon Master: “He’s charmed by you, and his behavior hasn’t changed. He grapples you…” *rolls dice* “…and carries you off. That ends today’s session; we’ll pick up next week for the wedding.”

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