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Misogynists Respect Few Things, But Size Matters

, , , , , | Right | May 16, 2022

I used to work as a stocker at a fairly large grocery store that had numerous smaller versions of said store. Funny enough, I was always looked to as a manager/supervisor by everyone, including those who have been there far longer than I have.

While I was in the backroom sorting merchandise in their sections, one of the senior coworkers comes storming into the back absolutely fuming. I should note that she has been working for the company for several years and is largely considered one of the nicest people ever, but so many people mistake her size and demeanor and push her around. I, on the other hand, am far larger and I use this to my advantage to help with all of the heavier freight.

Coworker: “Hey, you got a second? I need your size for something.”

Me: “Sure, what’s up?”

My coworker explains that a customer started calling her a b**** and demanded to know where a product was located. When she attempted to help the man, he got even more hostile and “demanded to take him to a man who would know where s*** really is.”

Because I highly respect her, my demeanor instantly changed from jolly to a giant on a warpath. I had her show me where the customer was at and to go ahead and tell him that she got someone. I stood at the end of the aisle where he couldn’t see and was trying to get into my “manager” frame of mind.

Coworker: “I got my manager and he’ll be here to assist you shortly.”

Customer: “WHERE THE H*** IS HE THEN?! It’s s*** like this is why you women are so f****** useless!”

At this point, I had enough and came around the corner like a bull out of a chute and beelined for the customer.

Me: *As dark and as intense as I could make my voice.* “WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

The customer turns around and sees a mountain in front of him and knew that mistakes were made. He stumbles over his words, but can’t get them out.

Me: “You have one of two options: You either apologize to her RIGHT NOW and I might let you keep shopping here, or I will literally chase you out. Make your choice.”

The customer absolutely freaked out and bolted for the door. There’s usually an officer present and I reported the customer to him and told him that if that customer ever came back that he was to be turned away immediately. The officer was on super good terms with the coworker and was visibly upset by what happened and so he said that he would chase him off if I pointed him out.

Fighting Communism With Correspondence

, , , , , , | Right | CREDIT: Apprehensive_Skill34 | May 14, 2022

I work for a store that operates online mostly. We do have people come in from time to time, but we mostly do online correspondence. This one customer just will not stop sending us emails — for a few days straight — about the item he received being made in China.

Email #1:

Customer: “You cannot imagine how disappointed I was when the [item] I just received was MADE IN CHINA! I’ll never order from you again, because by supporting the CCP (Chinese Communist Party), you are, in effect, allowing/supporting the takeover of America by the communists! NOT ON MY WATCH!”

Email #2:

Customer: “You sell crap made in China. I’LL NEVER BUY FROM YOU AGAIN!”

Email #3:

Customer: “And was I ever disappointed. The [item] was made in CHINA. So, that means that YOU are supporting the CCP! Never again will I buy crap from you. OH, what did I do with the [item]? I put it in my vice, cut it in two, and then melted it down in my forge. You could have at least been honest and stated that the crap was made in China… but OH, NO! You’d rather support the CCP than be honest. NEVER AGAIN WILL I ORDER ANYTHING FROM YOU, AND I’LL LET MY FRIENDS KNOW, AS WELL!”

My boss, the owner finally responded.

Owner: “Hi, [Customer]. Yes, many of our items are made in China, and many of your items, as well! If you have any of the following items, they all have ‘made in China’ parts, as well as being assembled there, too: nails, screws, TV, cable box, phone, computer, wallet, watch, clothes, iPad, tablets, food, car, and many other things.

“You might as well become a nudist and be nomadic if you don’t want to support the CCP at all. Live under a rock, and you might never hear about China ever again. But do your research before being so bluntly rude and disrespectful in an email.

“We don’t need your business, but you could have at the very least kept a professional manner instead of telling us you melted down the [item]. You just wasted your own money.

“Best regards, [Owner].”

Sometimes We Look At Men Who Are Married And We Ask… “How?”

, , , , , , , | Right | May 13, 2022

Working in a breakdown (roadside assistance) call centre, we would naturally have extremely busy periods in a day, but equally, there could be times when we wouldn’t get a call for ages. These times were useful for getting some admin work done — especially for the team leaders — but now and then there simply wouldn’t be anything to do.

In one of these rare periods, my coworkers and I are sitting about and chatting. The conversation has turned to discussing particularly memorable calls, whether for spectacular rudeness, unusual situations, or otherwise amusing conversations.

All our calls are recorded, and evidently, the team leaders keep a “hall of fame” directory in the system, and people begin requesting their favourites. The first they play is from one of our team to the recovery agent.

Teammate: “Hi, this is [Teammate] calling from [Breakdown Company]. I’m just checking in on the progress of the [car model] you’re recovering for us?”

Agent: “Ah, yes, in Harrow?”

Teammate #1: “Hello, yes, can you hear me?”

Agent: “Yes, Harrow.”

Teammate #1: “Harro, yes, can you hear me?”

This goes on for longer than you might expect.

Agent: “Mate, I’m NOT saying, ‘Hello’, I’m confirming the location of the recovery, which is in the TOWN, Harrow!”

Teammate #1: “Oh… right. Sorry!”

We stop the recording there and move on to the next one. It starts off as a pretty standard call; the driver sounds a little agitated but is polite to our teammate. Partway through taking some details, the caller suddenly explodes:


Teammate #2: *Who is a woman* “Erm…”

Caller: *Talking over a raised voice in the background* “Sorry [Teammate #2], I wasn’t talking to y— SHUT THE H*** UP! I’M TRYING TO TALK TO THE BREAKDOWN PEOPLE!”

There is a heated discussion between the caller and the woman in the car. Shortly, there is a sound of a car door being opened and then slammed shut.

Caller: “Sorry about that. The wife thinks it’s all my fault the car’s doing this. You know women, all a bunch of b****es, right?”

He makes a strangled noise, seemingly remembering he’s talking to both a woman and a complete stranger.

Caller: “…and men, we’re all b*****ds, too! Haha… Anyway…”

The rest of the call proceeds without incident. As it’s wrapping up:

Caller: “Okay, thanks, [Teammate #2], we’ll wait to hear from you! And sorry for calling all women b*****s! Bye!”

Thanks For Making College Life Even Harder

, , , , , , | Learning | May 13, 2022

I’m employed by the housing service of a prestigious university, directing inbound students to the best options for their needs. One such student is a boy, who, due to not feeling confident in living entirely alone just yet, has decided to not live in a flat and instead to get a bed in the all-male dorms. I give him all the information needed to start the enrolment process and think nothing of it.

A few days later, I get a call.

Me: “Hallo, [University]’s Student Housing Services. How may I be of help?”

Boy: “Hello, it’s me, [Boy]. I called two weeks ago about getting a place in the dorm, but I’ve had a bit of a problem.”

Me: “What kind of problem? Anything serious?”

Boy: “Uh, yeah, the headmaster, or whatever he’s supposed to be, sat me down after the dorm tour and told me I wasn’t a very good fit for the dorm and that I should go look for a flat.”

Me: “That’s weird. Did he elaborate?”

Boy: “No, he didn’t say much else.”

Me: “Okay, then. Do you mind if I inform myself and then get in touch with you by the end of this week?”

Boy: “Sure.”

And so the call ends. I immediately call the dorm manager’s office, figuring that something REALLY major had come up to tell him he couldn’t get into the dorm. After getting transferred from the secretary, in a few minutes, I’m on the phone with him.

Dorm Manager: “Hallo, [Dorm]’s office, [Dorm Manager] speaking.”

Me: “Hallo, Mr. [Dorm Manager], I have been called by a student called [Boy] [Surname]. He says that, after touring the dorm’s facilities, he was told that he wasn’t allowed to take a room. He told me he has not been told the reason behind it. Is that true?”

Dorm Manager: “[Boy]? If she is what I think she is, that’s not her name.”

There’s a long beat, as I’m confused.

Me: “Come again?”

Dorm Manager: “She was not a boy but a girl. I don’t understand what she was trying to accomplish in trying to hide her breasts and pass herself as a boy to enter my dorm, but, regardless, she isn’t supposed to be here. She should go contact the girl student dorm.”

Me: “Huh? His voice sounded quite masculine to me.”

Dorm Manager: “The voice did, but I guarantee you she didn’t look like a boy in the slightest, neither in face nor in body. I am not going to let some kid’s girlfriend sneak in to live with them.”

Me: “I think I’m going to research this matter a little deeper. Something is not quite adding up here.”

And I hang up. While I’m not allowed to access any files that could be considered sensitive, I do notice that [Boy] sustained the admission exam to university under the name he gave me; if this was just somebody’s girl trying to get a free room with her boyfriend, she would have to be extremely committed.

A couple of days later, I decide to send an email to my boss about it and then call the boy back.

Me: “Hallo, [Boy], [University]’s Student Housing Services.”

Boy: “Hallo, any news?”

Me: “Yeah, I’ve called the dorm manager. He has told me you looked like a girl and rejected you on those grounds.”

Boy: “Uhhh… what? Can he even do that? Can’t I appeal that?”

Me: “I think you should give a call to my boss. I’m afraid I cannot help you with this directly.”

And I give him the number. A few hours later…

Boss: “Hallo, [My Name], do you remember [Boy]? [Surname], the one.”

Me: “Yes, I do. I gave him your office’s number.”

Boss: “I have seen his file and talked about it with him. He’s definitely a guy, no two ways about it. Strike out a spot from the dorm. I will deal with it myself.”

Me: “Okay, if you say so.”

And he hangs up. I receive no information about it for a long time until midway through the first semester of university when I receive a call from [Boy].

Boy: “Hello, it’s me, [Boy]. I’m sorry, and I know it’s quite a lot to ask, but would it be possible to find an apartment now?”

Me: “Hello, [Boy]. May I ask why you want to leave the dorm?”

Boy: “I… I don’t feel comfortable in there. The place is nice and all, but the dorm manager keeps calling me to his office and telling me I shouldn’t be here or that I don’t look like a guy or…”

At this point, silence falls.

Me: “Hello? Are you there?”

There’s a long beat, and then I hear some sniffling.

Boy: “Uh… yeah, I’m here. It just hurts to talk about. Can I get a place in another dorm or an apartment with other people, pretty please? I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Me: “I will see what I can do.”

I decide to get the other side of the story just in case.

Dorm Manager: “Hallo, [Dorm]’s office, [Dorm Manager] speaking.”

Me: “Hallo, Mr. [Dorm Manager]. A student has been complaining about your behaviour toward him. His name is [Boy] [Surname]. May I know what is going on exactly?”

Dorm Manager: “What is going on? She isn’t [Boy]. She literally is just some girl who decided to change her name and gender because she liked football. I don’t care how much she likes [Football Team] or how much she wants to lop off her breasts. She is not a man, and she will never be, and I am not going to keep a woman around my dorm just to please some dumb idiot who thinks he knows better than I do. She either gets out of my dorm on her own, or I will make her wish she had never bothered.”

It all finally clicks.

Me: “Oh, okay, I do finally understand. I will be sure to pass this around.”

Dorm Manager: “You’d better. Goodbye.”

Little does he know, I am not going to communicate that to the poor guy.

Me: “Hello, [Boss]. [Dorm Manager] is apparently harassing [Boy] [Surname].”

A deep sigh comes from the other side of the phone.

Boss: “Jesus Christ, [Dorm Manager] really is the dumb motherf***** I thought he was. You’d think he loves long talks with the rector. Fine, I’ll get to work once again.”

To make a long story short: my boss emailed the university’s rector, who in turn demanded that the dorm manager visit him, and apparently, he had quite the choice of words for him. They started arguing, and then the rector gave the dorm manager his walking papers, replacing him with his direct underling, who was much more diplomatic. The trans boy ultimately decided to stay in the dorm and has thanked me, though, really, he had to thank both the rector and my boss.

At Odds With The Fabric Of Reality

, , , , , | Right | May 6, 2022

I work in a craft store. We don’t have a lot of fabric types, so we don’t have a lot of sections that are a specific price. We do have a few areas with signs that say “X fabric — $Y,” but most of our shelves are assorted, and about 70% of the fabrics have the price on the tag.

An old woman brings a fabric to the cutting counter.

Customer: “What’s the price? I got it in the $5.99 section.”

I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I just scan it.

Me: “That’s actually $18 and not on sale.”

Customer: “That’s false advertising!”

She moans a bit more and leaves with nothing. Later, when I am returning fabric to the shelves, I realise she had looked at the rack in front of the table that said “X fabric $5.99” and thought it was for the whole table. So, she can’t read.

The next day, she brings a fabric to the cutting counter.

Customer: “This was in the $5 section.”

This time, I am really tired, so I can’t stop the confused expression on my face.

Customer: *Scoffs* “You should know what’s in the store!”

Me: “I do, and we don’t have a $5 section. Could you please show me?”

She leads me to one of our assorted sections and pointed at some tags that say, “$5.” I then point at other tags that have other prices like $8 and $12 and so on.

Me: “This is an assorted section, and while the fabric that you found was in the wrong place, it doesn’t change the fact that there is no $5 section.”

She goes off again about how it’s “false advertising” and “confusing to customers.”

If she wasn’t so rude, I would try to find some fabric in her budget for her to use, but she is so rude. She keeps going on about how she has been a customer since the beginning — but doesn’t know how the store works? — and how she is never coming back if “we do it again.” And I am thinking, “Is that a promise?”

Then, she asks if we have a specific thing that we don’t have, and I list off some other stores nearby that might, including a Japanese dollar store.

Customer: *Immediately* “Oh, no, I don’t go there; they’re Japanese.”

So, not only can she not read, and she’s rude, but she’s racist, too. And no, she’s not senile or having trouble with English; she’s just rude.