Finds A Way To Be 0.2 Times More Annoying

, , , , , | Right | November 13, 2018

(I am working in a well-known grocery store deli for the summer. In this deli, in order to slice our meats and cheeses, our slicers go by .5 increments — .5, 1.0, 1.5, etc. A woman walks up to the deli counter.)

Me: “Hello, ma’am! Is there anything I can help you with today?”

Customer: “Yes, I would like a .8-slice of the Colby Longhorn, please.”

Me: “I would be happy to help you, ma’am. We aren’t able to do a .8-slice, though. I can give you a .5 or a 1.0.”

Customer: “Of course you can. Somebody does this for me all the time! All you have to do is turn the dial so that it is halfway between the .5 and the 1.0!”

Me: “Ma’am, it doesn’t really work like that. We don’t have markings for intermediate sizing.”

Customer: “Yes, you do! Someone does this for me all the time! I can’t believe that you don’t know how to do this!!”

Me: “All right, ma’am.”

(I crank the slicer to a 1.0 and slice her a test piece.)

Me: “Is this all right, ma’am?”

Customer: “Yes! Finally! I’m so glad you figured out how to do exactly what I wanted.”

Me: “Yes, of course, ma’am.”

(She walked away, not even knowing that I made her slice slightly larger than she actually wanted.)

Employees That “Lose One’s Shirt” In The Workspace Never Make It To The Top-less

, , , , , , , , | Working | November 5, 2018

I’ve been working at my store for almost a year and a half now. My store is one of three “sister brands” that all have locations within the mall. This means that we are all owned by the same “parent company,” and although we all stock different items, our inventory all comes in from the same warehouses. Because of this, every so often one store will accidentally receive an item of a sister store’s merchandise. The policy when this happens is to have an employee simply take the mistaken item over to whichever store it belongs to. The employees at that store are then responsible for entering the item into their inventory and selling it.

A few weeks after I first started working for my store, I was unpacking a shipment of new merchandise and came across a shirt belonging to [Sister Store]. Not yet knowing what to do with it, I alerted my manager, who said she would take care of it. So, I handed the shirt off to her and promptly got back to work, forgetting about it.

Fast forward to today, when my coworker stops me to point out a very familiar shirt hiding in the corner of the hold rack. I immediately recognize it as the same shirt that I unboxed over a year ago.

As it turns out, someone had taken it over to [Sister Store] and explained the mixup… but the employees there had refused to take it. I don’t know if they ever gave a reason why, but apparently they eventually sent our employee back to our store, still carrying the misplaced shirt. And it’s just been hanging out on our hold rack ever since, waiting for someone to figure out what to do with it.

Weighing The Ways

, , , , , | Working | August 21, 2018

(I overhear this exchange between two coworkers as I’m in the back room, processing freight:)

Coworker #1: “I think it goes this way.”

Coworker #2: “I agree.”

Coworker #1: *joking* “Well, then, I think it goes the other way, just to be contrary.”

Coworker #2: “You’re probably right; whatever way you said it was that goes that way, I think it goes the other way.”

Coworker #1: “Right, well, as long as we know which way we’re talking about.”

Coworker #2: “We definitely don’t.”

(It’s moments like these that help break up the monotony of a long day of unpacking boxes. I never did find out exactly what they were talking about.)

Unfiltered Story #116532

, , | Unfiltered | July 21, 2018

(I am the customer in this scenario. I’ve gone to get a burger with my brother. He orders first, then I go up to the counter)

Me: Hi there. I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger and a rootbeer milkshake, please.

Cashier: Alright, that’ll be $9.26.

Me: Ok…

(I hand him my loyalty card, one of those “free burger for every ten purchases” sort of things. Every day there is a trivia question that gets you an extra stamp. I answer the question.)

Me: Dr. Pepper was invented first, right?

Cashier: That’s right!
*he stamps the card and hands it back*

Me: Oh, where’s your bathroom?

*He tells me and I thank him and promptly go off to use it, then go to sit down with my brother and am in the middle of a conversation when the cashier approaches us*

Cashier: Sir, you need to pay.

*I had completely forgotten! I sheepishly go back to the register and joke about how I must have REALLY needed to go. Fortunately I still get my food at the same time as my brother*

Me, to brother: This is going on Not Always Right.

A Premium Reason To Quit

, , , , , , | Right | June 26, 2018

(There’s nothing I love more than getting yelled at by crazy old men for things that A) aren’t my fault, B) I can’t change, and C) have been this way since before I was born. Most gas stations, if you haven’t noticed, charge a bit of a premium for credit card use. This is because the banks themselves charge us for when people use credit cards; the premium helps to defray some of that cost. This premium has been in place for decades now, and 99% of gas stations have that premium. Those that don’t make up for it by just setting their prices higher. This somehow didn’t make it through to the geezer who runs up to my window, brandishing his receipt like it’s one of Wonka’s golden tickets.)

Customer: “YOU CHANGE PRICE! Say $2.31! Why change?! YOU CHANGE!”

Me: “Sir, $2.31 is the credit card price. $2.21 is the cash price listed on the sign.”

Customer: “WHERE SAY?”

Me: “On every pump, sir. The credit card price is listed there.”

Customer: “No, it wasn’t! Show me!”

(I lead him to a pump and point.)

Me: “Right there, sir. Every pump lists the credit price.”

Customer: “NO GOOD! IS CHANGE! YOU LIE!”

(By this time, I’m a bit fed up.)

Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way. Can I help you with anything else?”

(Kill them with kindness, right? With a huff, he let out a final “F*** YOU,” jumped in his van, and peeled out of the parking lot at something like 40 miles an hour. I have to say, I wish him luck. We’re the cheapest gas station for three miles, and every other gas station in the county has the same premium.)

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