The Party Stops Here

, , , , | Friendly | January 13, 2020

(I’m on the late bus after a long day at work. There are several other people scattered around, all of them looking just as exhausted and ready to get home as I feel. About halfway home, a guy gets onto the bus who seems pretty tweaked out. He is twitching and mumbling to himself. He goes and sits down, and after a minute, reaches over to poke the lady sitting in the row ahead of him.)

Man: “Hey. Hey.”

Woman: *looking tired and a bit uncomfortable* “What?”

Man: “Where you heading?”

Woman: “I’m going home.”

Man: “I’m going to a party.”

(The woman nods and then turns away a bit.)

Man: “Hey. Hey. You want to come? It’s a party, a fun party. It’ll be a fun party.”

Woman: “No, thanks. I’m headed home. My daughter’s waiting for me.”

Man: “Hey. Hey. I was just asking, you know, if you wanted to come to the party. It’ll be a fun party.”

(The woman didn’t respond, but she did start gathering her things. The man tried to ask her to come to the party a couple more times, and then, after a couple of stops, she stood up and headed to get off the bus. The man watched her blankly before he started struggling to his feet. I got up, too, and planted myself in the aisle, preventing him from getting past and just staring down at him. He looked between me and the woman before finally sitting back down and mumbling to himself. I stayed standing for a bit until the doors shut and the bus started moving again. Maybe he really did have to get off at that stop, but I really, really doubt it.)

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Was Not The (T)Reason Most Quit Retail

, , , , , | Working | January 10, 2020

(At my mom’s former job, she had a coworker that no one really liked, but the boss thought he could do no wrong. One day, he goes on vacation to his home country and never returns. No one gives it much thought until a few months later, when my mom tells me this:)

Mom: “Remember [Coworker]? We find out what happened to him. He got arrested.”

Me: “Oh, yeah? For what?”

Mom: “Political treason against [Country]. He’s in federal prison.”

(Admittedly, not what I was expecting.)

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The Perfect Man

, , | Right | January 10, 2020

(I work at a 24-hour coffee shop inside a university campus. I’ve seen plenty of people in the morning in which they’re not fully human.)

Me: “Here you go, miss, a large mocha!”

Customer: *stares at the cup*

Me: “Miss?”

Customer: *grabs the cup, raises her head, and stares right through me*

Me: “Uh… are you okay?”

Customer: “I love chocolate. One day, I’ll make a chocolate man, marry him, and then eat him!

Me: “You do that.”

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She Boxed You Into Doing It  

, , , , , | Right | January 10, 2020

(I work at a somewhat high-end boutique. A woman comes in; she quickly begins explaining to me that she usually wears designer — like David Yurman on her wrist — but she delights in small businesses and frequently shops in this store. She chooses two necklaces after some time, between our conversing over how her investments in designer items will be worth a fortune soon. I am actually interested and find her unique, albeit curious in mannerisms and speech. We are checking out as I put one necklace in a box and wrap it, and begin doing the same for the second necklace.)

Customer: “You don’t have to give me two boxes. I’m just going to unwrap them when I get home.”

Me: “No, I would really like to. You can reuse the boxes once you’re done; they’re great for gifts.”

Customer: “No, they cost you guys money. Just one box, please.”

Me: *hesitantly* “I’m afraid they’ll get tangled! It’s honestly not any trouble—”

Customer: *firmly* “No, one box. Thank you, but it would be a waste. I don’t want it.”

(I put both necklaces in one box. They’re “locked” in place by foam, and I set them in the bag with enough tissue, just in case. Days pass. On the weekend, my boss asks about that very woman and if I had dealt with her. I say yes. I am excited; we had a delightful exchange and I feel I built a good rapport with her.)

Boss: “Yeah, she’s a little weird. A little off.”

Me: “Really? I couldn’t tell. Why do you say that?”

Boss: *hesitantly* “I know she’s lying because I know you wouldn’t do this, but she called me up and yelled, like, ‘Your employee put my two $50 necklaces in one box! I specifically asked her to put them in separate boxes but she refused! Now, they’re tangled and I can’t wear either of them!’ I was like, ‘I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am. Come on in and I would be happy to fix them, I have the tools, blah, blah.’ Then she starts yelling again about how I should teach my employees to ‘never put two necklaces in one box.’ Then I’m like, ‘Actually, my employee would never do that. This sounds nothing like her, honestly. Now, I can fix them if you bring them in. Is that okay?’ She then gets really loud and says, ‘Maybe I should have just worn one of them out of the store, around my big, fat neck!’ I was like, ‘Ooookaaaaaay.’ I know you wouldn’t do that. She’s always been weird to me. I didn’t even want to tell you, because you did nothing wrong.”

(I explained what had actually happened and my boss understood; she said she’s done the same thing, but it’s now policy to never share boxes for necklaces. I’m just grateful my boss defended me without even hearing my side of the story. Why did she call and lie to my boss so blatantly? Perhaps to have an exchange or refund? Regardless, my boss and I have recently noted she hasn’t been in since.)

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Router Problems? Nailed It!

, , , , | Right | January 9, 2020

(My dad has worked for about ten years in tech support for several companies. He is currently working at a company that sets up Internet routers. He’s taking customer calls.) 

Dad: “[Company], this is [Dad]; what can I do for you?”

Secretary: “Our Internet isn’t working.”

Dad: *gets router number and begins asking questions* “All right, are all of the lights on the box on? Are any blinking?”

Secretary: “There aren’t any lights on.” 

Dad: “Have you made sure that the box is plugged in?” 

Secretary: “Yes, it’s plugged in.” 

Dad: “Okay, let’s try resetting it. Go ahead and hold the power button down.”

Secretary: “There isn’t a power button on this box.”

Dad: “There should be a large blue button under the lid.” 

Secretary: “I can’t open the lid; it’s nailed closed.”

Dad: “It’s nailed closed?”

Secretary: “Yeah, the nail is holding it closed. I can’t open it. Can you just send someone to fix it?”

(My dad didn’t know what more to do, so he sent someone to look at the box. When they got to the office, they found that the box was not plugged in, but that wasn’t the biggest problem. It wasn’t plugged in because they had placed it too high on the wall to reach the outlet. It was nailed onto the wall; that is, there was a giant building nail going straight through the center of the router. Whoever managed this office decided the router was getting in the way so they nailed it to the wall. My dad is very happy not to work in tech support any longer.)

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