Not A Winner; Wait, Scratch That

, , , | Right | January 19, 2018

(There’s a woman who always comes in at seven in the morning with scratch-lotto tickets. She’s not very friendly.)

Customer: *gives me a ten dollar scratch off and a $20 bill* “I want another one of these and a [twenty dollar ticket].”

(I look at the ticket and notice only the barcode is scratched off on the front. I hand it back to her.)

Me: “Ma’am, this isn’t scratched off.”

Customer: “I don’t scratch them.”

(I know she does because the last time I opened and she got a few tickets from us, I watched her scratch them in her car.)

Customer: “I want another one of these and [$20 ticket].”

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t know how much you’ve won if you haven’t scratched it off.”

Customer: *referring to the lotto machine we have across from the register* “Use the machine.”

(I work mornings alone and I’d only been working there for about three weeks, so I didn’t want to fight her about this, and I couldn’t have my manager do anything about it. I scanned the ticket and entered the security code, and I was just hoping it wasn’t a winner. But by some stroke of luck on her part, it was a $10 winner. I went about ringing her up on it, then for the next ten minutes I was dumbfounded, wondering what witchcraft she used to know that ticket was a winner.)

Has A Creepy Ring To It

, , , , , | Working | January 19, 2018

(I have been in contact with a local artist and jewelry maker to make a pair of custom wedding rings. We met in person a while ago to go over what I wanted, at which time she told me she would need to eventually take my engagement ring to make tracings, due to its unique shape. We then spend the next few weeks emailing back and forth to try to coordinate meeting up again, but due to the fact that she lives 45 minutes from where I work and over an hour from where I live, this is proving to be difficult. Finally, we get to this point…)

Artist: *in email* “Okay, why don’t you just mail me the ring? My address is [address].”

Me: *in email* “I don’t know that I’m comfortable mailing you my ring. I’m worried it might get lost or stolen. Can I just drive up after work on [date] and give it to you?

Artist: *in email* “Sure! Just leave it in my mailbox.”

(I decide this would be all right, so on the day I promised, I drive up to her house. When I get there, I see she is actually home and outside in her front yard, close to the street, so I approach her.)

Me: “Hi, [Artist]!”

Artist: *not recognizing me* “Hi… Can I help you?”

Me: “I’m here to drop off my ring. I wasn’t expecting you to be home.”

Artist: *suddenly clicking* “Oh! [My Name]! I didn’t recognize you. Sure, let me take that.”

(A few weeks go by, and she emails me again to say the rings are done and that she will be in [Town where I work] on a day that week. We arrange to meet in a café at a specific time. I walk to the café and get there a few minutes early. I quickly spot her, but she is sitting with who I assume is another client, talking. The tables are very small, so instead of trying to butt my way in to their meeting, since I am early, anyway, I grab a table right next to theirs and wait for her to be done. I make eye contact with her just as I’m sitting down, so I assume she has seen me and will be done soon. I order tea, and the time we were supposed to meet passes. Finally, I overhear this part of their conversation.)

Artist: “Yeah, she should be here any minute.”

(I freeze, realizing that she didn’t recognize me when we made eye contact, and hasn’t seen me despite me being at the table right next to them. I am about to get up and say something to her when she continues…)

Artist: “She’s so funny. We only met once in person, and then she just showed up out at my house, completely unannounced, expecting I would know who she was!”

Client: “Oh, that’s… kind of creepy.”

(I can’t believe what I am hearing! She is talking about me to a complete stranger and making me out to be a creep! I have no idea what I should do at this point… If this stranger already thinks that I’m a creep, what will she think if I stand up and reveal I have been sitting right behind them and eavesdropping this whole time? I keep sipping my tea and consider just leaving, until…)

Artist: “[My Name]?!”

(I looked up and they were both staring at me, so I immediately jumped up and came over to their table. I quickly got through trying on the rings, writing a check, paying for my tea, and leaving, all while trying to be as friendly and not-creepy as possible!)

When You’re Actively Thinking About Running Someone Over

, , , , , , | Friendly | January 18, 2018

(I’m leaving to pick my partner up from work. Unfortunately, my phone is broken, but I send an email to my partner’s phone saying I’ll meet them outside. I go down the street, and there’s a man standing in the middle of the road. Cars are parked on either side, so I can’t get past. He comes up to me and stands in front of my car.)

Man: “Hey! Cold weather we’re having.”

Me: “Yeah…”

Man: “You know, it’s never been this cold before.” *he starts rambling about the cold* “So, have you always lived in Florida?”

Me: “No, I lived in Colorado before, but I really have to go–”

Man: “Colorado! They’ve got good skiers up there! Everyone’s a skier!”

(He starts talking about some ski accident he once had. Every time I try to talk, he interrupts me and talks faster. Eventually, his ski story is over and I think I’ll finally be released.)

Me: “Wow. Anyway, I should get–”

Man: “Do you follow sports?”

Me: “No, sorry.”

Man: “Well, I love football. The teams I follow used to be…“

(He keeps talking about how his team loyalty changes every time he moves. I cannot get a word in. He moves his arms a lot when he talks, and I’m starting to hope that he pokes himself with the tool he’s holding, just enough to make him leave. Finally, his monologue runs out of steam. He steps to the side and I speed out of there and end up being 20 minutes late.)

Partner: “Oh, my God! I thought you were in an accident! I was ready to call my mom and have her backtrack through the route.”

Me: *explains*

Partner: “Well, I know someone who’s not getting a Christmas card this year.”

Offering A Knuckle Sandwich

, , , , , , , | Right | January 18, 2018

(I am a very petite female. I am the customer at a coffee shop I frequent often. The employees are very nice and most of them know me by now. I purchase a sandwich and a drink, set up my laptop, open the sandwich, and begin to work. A few minutes later I go to the restroom, leaving behind my items, only to come out to a man in his mid-40s eating my sandwich, right next to where I have been sitting. I hate confronting people and would have brushed it off, but it is just too weird.)

Me: “Excuse me. Are you eating my sandwich?”

Customer: “No, this is mine.”

Me: “I took a couple bites out of it, and there’s lip-gloss on the bite marks on ‘your’ sandwich.”

Customer: “Get your own! You young people are always taking things away from the more deserving!”

Me: *now confused and embarrassed, as everyone in the shop is staring* “Sir, that’s my sandwich. You can have it. It’s no big deal; it’s just a turkey sandwich. But I’m not the thief, here.”

Employee: “Wait. Sir, did you take this woman’s sandwich?”

Customer: “No. I’ll fight her for it!”

Employee & Me: *at same time* “You want to fight for it?!”

(There is moment of silence as the other customers and employees look back and forth between my five-foot frame and the man’s six-foot frame. The other customer looks around for a moment, then grabs my sandwich and runs out.)

Employee: “Do you want another sandwich?”

Me: “I don’t think I’ll ever eat a turkey sandwich again.”

There’s No Saving Her From That Grouch

, , , , | Right | January 17, 2018

(We have a customer who is always rude, but we treat her with as much respect as any other customer. She always orders a large cappuccino, and despite the fact that it’s not standard to put chocolate on it, she demands angrily for “no chocolate on top” every time. She has also been known to cancel transactions for silly reasons like us asking her name. For some reason, she has taken a particular dislike to me over all of my other coworkers. I have recently been made Coffee Master for the store, and I have the shirt to go along with it. I am wearing it at the time. I am stocking ice and cleaning the cold beverage station when I hear the automatic doors open and look over my shoulder.)

Grouchy Customer: *walks in and looks up*

Me: “Hi! What can I get for you?”

Grouchy Customer: “Hmph!” *walks out*

(The supervisor just about wet herself laughing.)

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