It’s Tearin’ Up My Heart When I’m With You

, , , , , | Working | September 25, 2017

(I’m putting my items through the self-checkout and get an alert because I’m purchasing alcohol. Once I’ve finished, I see a worker come over and expect her to verify my age, etc. However, she proceeds to pick up my bag, turn it upside down, and dump everything on the scale. I am using a reusable bag from another store.)

Worker: “We just need to put your bag through.”

(She tries to scan the bag. It is clearly from another store; this store uses a blue bag, while mine is white and green, and the text and overall aesthetic is completely different, as well. As expected, the scanner doesn’t pick it up.)

Me: “It’s from [Other Store]. It won’t work.”

Worker: *ignoring me* “Why isn’t it scanning?”

(She tries over and over, refusing to listen to me until she screams out in frustration and rips the bag in half.)

Worker: “Now look what you did! You’re going to have to get another now!”

(She tries to get one of the store’s bags when a manager intercepts her. The manager apologises to me and offers me a free replacement, despite my bag not being from their store. She also approves my alcohol purchase and lets me go. I ask for my torn bag back, as well, before I leave. The worker is screaming so loudly at the manager by this point that half the checkout has stopped moving to watch the spectacle. I leave, and a week later decide to shop at the store where I got my original reusable bag. While I’m there, I decide to get my bag replaced, as they have a lifetime free exchange offer for damaged bags.

Me: “Could I replace this, please?”

Other Worker: “Sure.” *while grabbing another bag* “It looks like someone tried to rip it open.”

Me: “Someone did.”

Other Worker: “Your kids?”

Me: “Ugh, no. Someone at [Store] thought it was one of theirs, and—”

Other Worker: “Was it a woman? Short, with curly black hair?”

(I nod.)

Other Worker: “She worked here last Christmas.”

(She handed me my new bag and started scanning my shopping. As I was leaving, I heard people at the service counter talking about the woman and laughing hysterically. Looks like she got herself a reputation.)

Go Nude Or Go Home

, , , , , , , | Romantic | September 25, 2017

(It’s about four am when I receive a call from my boyfriend, who works third shift. I’m a fairly heavy sleeper, and it takes a while for me to wake up. I also sleep nude, as I’ve always found it more comfortable than wearing even light pajamas.)

Boyfriend: “I’m too tired to drive home from work today. Mind if I crash at your place?”

Me: *still half-asleep* “Yeah. Just knock when you get here and I’ll let you in.”

(I fall asleep as soon as the call ends, only waking up when I hear pounding on the door to my studio apartment.)

Me: *opens the door, barely keeping my eyes open* “Mornin’.”

(My boyfriend stands there for a few minutes, and when I blink away the sleep from my eyes I realize he’s looking at me in disgust.)

Me: “What?”

Boyfriend: “You’re naked.”

Me: *looks down at myself* “Yeah? I was sleeping.”

Boyfriend: “Well, get dressed! What if someone sees you?”

Me: “Then they see a naked fat chick letting her boyfriend in at four am. What’s the problem?”

(My apartment is on the second floor, in the back corner of the complex. Someone would have to be extremely determined, and capable of climbing trees, to look in on me.)

Boyfriend: “Go get dressed this instant.”

Me: *laughs* “I pay the rent; I’ll sleep nude if I want.”

Boyfriend: *getting increasingly flustered* “I’m not coming in until you get some clothes on, and that’s final.”

Me: “Then you’ll sleep in your car. Or outside. I don’t care; I’ve got work in the morning and I’m exhausted.”

Boyfriend: *crosses his arms and stares me down, like some overgrown toddler about to throw a tantrum, for a good minute*

Me: “Good night.” *shuts the door on his face and goes back to bed*

(I woke up to several angry messages from him, almost all of them summed up as, “You’re the worst person in the world and we’re through.” I didn’t bother responding, but I wonder why he was so adamant I cover myself, while he made me hold the door open for five minutes instead of just coming in.)

Have The Sudden Impulse To Leave

, , , , , | Working | September 23, 2017

During my time at university, I was desperately trying to find work so I wouldn’t just be relying on student finance, which helps a lot, but just isn’t always enough as a my sole source of money.

It was in December, during Christmas break, and my money had all but dried up, I had very little left until my next loan was due to come in. I applied for a sales position that focused on credit cards, Netflix subscriptions, etc., and was told to come for an interview at their offices.

When I got there, however, we spent maybe five minutes in the office before we were moved out and told we had to get on a bus. Desperate for the possible job, I reluctantly took my last £10, which was meant to be for food shopping, out of the bank and paid for a ticket. They had us do some math questions to test our competency, which I, again, thought was weird to do on the bus.

Once we got to our destination, the interviewers took us to a cafe, sat us down at tables and talked to each of us individually, eventually giving us sheets to fill out while they left for the shopping centre around the corner, where they were doing their selling.

As I was filling out my form, one of the cafe workers came up to me and said I couldn’t sit there because I hadn’t ordered anything. I wasn’t about to spend the last of my money on just a drink or a sandwich or whatever, when it was for my food shopping, so I went to sit with one of the other people being interviewed who had ordered something.

When the sales workers came back, I was told I wasn’t allowed to sit with the others anymore, because the interview was us all competing, so we couldn’t talk to each other. Even after I explained the fact I wasn’t allowed to sit by myself without ordering anything, I was just told to figure it out.

They left again, for their oh-so-precious sales, leaving me in the dust with the cafe workers angrily glaring at me.

At this point, I was completely embarrassed and upset.

When the sales workers come back once again, the guy interviewing me said something that  was my final straw: “Now, when we’re out selling, what we’re looking for is impulsive people…”

In my mind, I instantly figured that to mean, “We’re looking to take advantage of people who have little self-control over what they buy.”

That’s when I told him that I couldn’t do it anymore and left. Even though it was an ordeal, and I was one of the two people left (it was sort of knock-out elimination; at each stage someone was asked to leave and not continue with the interviews), I just couldn’t go through with having a sales job that hounded on people like that.

At Least Their Heart Is In The Right Place

, , , , | Friendly | September 22, 2017

(My friend has taken ill, and has gotten a bit delirious as we are waiting for the ambulance. I have been rubbing her feet, and have felt her pulse on the top of her foot.)

Friend: *clutching at her chest, in a panicked voice* “[My Name], are you there?”

Me: “Yes, I’m here.”

Friend: “I can’t feel my heart!”

Me: “It’s all right; it’s there.”

Friend: “I can’t feel it; can you feel it? Put your hand here.”

(I don’t necessarily want to feel my friend’s chest.)

Me: “It’s all right; I felt it in your foot.”

Friend: “In my foot? Oh, good. I’m glad I didn’t lose it.”

When They Pierce Low, You Pierce High

, , , | Right | September 22, 2017

(This happened to my manager, not me, but since we often compare crazy customer stories, she gleefully relates this to me one day.)

Customer #1: “Can I see these two belly button rings, please?”

Manager: “Of course!”

(She takes them out so that the customer can compare them. They are both very gaudy, with dangling bits laid with glitzy rhinestones.)

Customer #1: *to her friend* “Oh, I don’t know! Which should I get?”

Customer #2: *very seriously* “When making decisions like this, I always ask myself: what would Michelle Obama do?”

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