The One That Shouldn’t Be Allowed In Society Isn’t The Cleaner

, , , , | Right | December 28, 2018

Customer: “Excuse me, I have a complaint to make.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry we weren’t able to offer the best standard of service today. I’ll just call a manager.”

Customer: “No, it’s nothing to with you. It’s that young r******d boy I see wandering about the shop. People like that need to be kept on a leash, and properly restrained! Whoever is its keeper needs to be told off before it hurts someone. I just thought I’d complain before leaving. I value my life!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t understand. We also don’t tolerate that kind of language here.”

Customer: “Well, umm… Oh, there it is! See!”

(I look to where she points and see one of our cleaners who has Down Syndrome.)

Me: “That’s [Coworker]. He works here.”

Customer: *shocked* “Those things are allowed to work?!”

(I didn’t get the chance to say anything else. She put a handkerchief over her mouth and ran for the exit, making sure to avoid the cleaner as much as possible. He was completely oblivious to it, thankfully.)

No Mazel Tov To Management

, , , , , | Working | December 26, 2018

(My longtime coworkers at this smalltown chain restaurant all know that I’m Jewish. We get a new manager who turns out to be a jerk in many ways, especially to me as an assistant manager, but one thing, in particular, stands out. Over several weeks, he makes a number of remarks about Jews that, without using any outright slurs, give me pause. Having had little direct personal experience with anti-Semitism up to now, I am unsure how to respond, beyond side-eye and raised eyebrows. One day in December, we’re both sitting in the back office when an employee pops in and wishes me a happy Hanukkah. [Manager] is visibly startled.)

Manager: “You… you’re Jewish?!”

Me: “Oh, yes, didn’t you know?”

Manager: “Oh, uh… Well, I hope I haven’t said anything, you know, that might, uh…”

(I turn and look straight at him.)

Me: “Why, [Manager]? Is that the sort of thing you’re likely to say?”

(He turned red, stammered something, and remembered something he had to take care of elsewhere. I was done with that place, anyway, and that guy was the final nail in the coffin. I left a few months later.)

Has No ID-ea It’s Christmas

, , , , | Right | December 25, 2018

(Every year, my county holds a holiday gift drive to benefit local needy kids and families who otherwise wouldn’t get much for Christmas. The event relies entirely on donations from local businesses and individual citizens. The “staff” are all volunteers. One year, my mother and another volunteer are manning the check-in table where people came to pick up their gifts. Due to past impersonation and theft problems, it is standard procedure to check everyone’s ID. A middle-aged woman approaches the check-in table to pick up her gifts.)

Volunteer: “Good morning! I need to see your photo ID, and then we’ll get one of our ‘elves’ to bring out your bag.”

Lady: *huffs as she hands over her driver’s license*

Volunteer: *verifies ID matches the list* “All right, here comes your ‘elf’ to escort you through Santa’s Workshop to pick out a couple of additional toys. Merry Christmas!”

(The lady grunts and follows the “elf” who’s brought out her bag of gifts. The volunteer turns her attention to the next person in line. Not long after, the lady returns. She is obviously angry and starts shouting.)

Lady: “YOU STOLE MY DRIVER’S LICENSE! GIVE IT BACK, YOU B****! I SHOULD HAVE YOU ALL FIRED!”

Volunteer: *shocked* “Ma’am, I gave your ID back to you. Are you sure it’s not in your purse?”

Lady: “OF COURSE I’M SURE! I DON’T HAVE IT! YOU SHOULDN’T BE CHECKIN’ FOLKS’ ID, ANYWAY! IT’S DISCRIMINATION ‘CAUSE I’M BLACK! YOU’RE ALL RACIST AND STOLE MY ID!”

Volunteer: “Ma’am, I—“

Lady: “YOU OWE ME A REPLACEMENT! YOU STOLE MY ID AND NOW NEED A NEW ONE!”

Volunteer: *shakily hands over $20 to cover the driver’s license replacement fee*

(The infuriated lady snatched the money from her and flounced out of the building, muttering about thieves. Later that day, a relative of hers came to pick up their own bag of gifts. While chatting, the relative mentioned that the angry lady had found her ID in the bottom of her purse. As a result of this incident, a new policy was put in place: volunteers are absolutely not allowed to touch peoples’ ID’s.)

They Know Chocolate Comes From South America, Right?

, , , , | Right | December 23, 2018

Customer: “Why is this [Chocolate Bar] white?”

Me: “It’s a special edition for Christmas.”

Customer: “Is it only for white people?”

Me: “What?”

Customer: “Can only white people buy it?”

Me: “No, anyone can. The white means there’s white chocolate inside.”

Customer: *ignoring me* “It must be. Why else would it be white? It’s British, and I am a proud Briton! No blacks allowed, just as Britain should be. I’ll take it.”

(I sell him the bar, albeit in silence, as I would prefer he not speak more. As he leaves, I give a look to my manager beside me who has seen and heard the entire encounter. She’s glaring at him as he leaves. He takes one step outside and comes back inside.)

Customer: “IT HAS ‘SWISS’ ON THE BOX! THIS S*** ISN’T BRITISH AT ALL! I WANT A REFUND!”

Manager: *before I can even open my mouth* “I assume you’re aware of our policies? Once foodstuffs have left the store, we reserve the right to refuse a refund, and I’m refusing to refund you.”

Customer: “BUT I WAS ONLY OUTSIDE FOR A SECOND!”

Manager: *grinning* “I know. Isn’t life wonderful?”

(He grunts and storms away.)

Manager: “ENJOY YOUR CHOCOLATE BAR!”

(Once outside again, he stands next to a bin and glares at us. He motions with the bar suggesting he would insert it into himself via the “back door” before throwing it away. He smirks at us and then blushes.)

Customer: “I’M NOT A F****** [GAY SLUR]!”

(He then ran away.)

Yaoi Got To Be Kidding, Part 3

, , , , , | Right | December 21, 2018

(A woman buys a yaoi manga — male/male Japanese comic — off of our sales rack. A few minutes later, she comes up to the front desk.)

Customer: “I want to exchange this for something else! I didn’t know this manga had such content! I don’t read things like this; it’s against my religion! I read only wholesome manga!”

(My coworker does the exchange. Once the customer leaves, she shows me the cover of the manga. Very clearly it has two men in a loving embrace, one has their shirt off, and there are roses everywhere.)

Coworker: “How could she not know this was yaoi?”

Related:
Yaoi Got To Be Kidding, Part 2
Yaoi Got To Be Kidding

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