A Conversational Bath Bomb

, , , , , | Right | March 8, 2019

(I’m working near the front table of my bath and body store. As I turn around, I see two women shopping at the front table. I approach them with a smile.)

Me: “Hi ladies! What brings you two in to shop?”

(The one closest to me turns her head to me slowly, like something out of a horror movie, with a scowl on her bright red face, and replies in a scathing tone.)

Customer: “Seriously? This is a bath store.”

Me: *taken aback* “It was just a question.”

Customer: *gets even redder and huffs* “Whatever. I don’t have to take this.”

(She proceeded to storm out, the younger woman confusedly following after. I was left staring at the table while my coworker cracked up behind me.)

Not Being Very Private (Eye) About Her Affair

, , , , | Right | March 8, 2019

(Our parking lot is partially under construction as they lay new water pipes, so employees have to park at a gravel lot down the block. After work, I pick up my daughter from after-school activities, but depending on the timing, I’ll often sit in my car and read until it’s time to get her. I’m in the car when there’s a loud pounding on my door. I look up to see an irate woman.)

Woman: “You want something to show Harold? You want some proof?!”

Me: “What?”

Woman: “If he is so g**d*** sure I’m cheating on him that he’s sending a g**d*** investigator after me, he can just have the divorce!”

Me: “I’m not a private detective; I work at the bank down the street.”

Woman: “Bulls***! You’re here every day, watching me.”

Me: “I’m not watching anyone. I just park here.”

Woman: “Give these to Harold and tell him this is all the proof he needs, and he better not expect me to pay any of your salary!”

(She shoves several printed pages into my hand and storms off towards a house across the street. The pages are pictures of her and a man being intimate. I’m shocked, and I shred them when I get home. For the next few days, I park at a shopping center and walk. Less than a week later, I’m waiting on customers and realize the woman is next in line. She doesn’t recognize me.)

Me: “If you could just swipe your card to bring up your account… As I told you the other day, I work at a bank and not as a private eye.”

(She looked at me and turned red as a beet, and we did her transaction quickly. I couldn’t help but notice that it was a joint account with a Harold. It’s been three months, and if it wasn’t against regulations, I’d be curious to see if they both were still on the account.)

Sprinkling In Some Bipolarity

, , , , | Right | March 7, 2019

(I work in a donut shop.)

Me: “Hi. What can I get for you today?”

Customer: “Can I have a Boston cream?”

Me: “Sure! Sprinkles or no sprinkles?”

Customer: “DO I LOOK LIKE A F****** CHILD!?”

Me: “…”

Customer: “WHY WOULD I WANT SPRINKLES?! I’M NOT A F****** CHILD!”

Me: “Um… I’m just doing my job; I have to ask.”

Customer: “WELL, I’M NOT A F****** CHILD! I DON’T WANT SPRINKLES!”

Me: “Okay.” *silently hands them their donut without sprinkles*

(Sadly, this is not the worst conversation I’ve had with a customer this week.)

Depositing A Little Fear

, , , , , , , | Right | March 6, 2019

(I work as a bank teller. As part of our training, we are told that if we are ever robbed we are to just hand over the money and not fight or argue with the robber. The branch that I trained at was robbed three months ago. I work in a grocery store bank, and it is the middle of a weekday. A customer walks up to my station. He’s a big guy and looks like he could be a football player.)

Me: “Hello. How are you?”

(The customer doesn’t say anything and does not change facial expression. I’m a little unnerved, as this is not usual, but I press on.)

Me: “How can I help you?”

(He just tosses a sealed envelope onto the counter. I feel myself fill with fear. This guy is robbing me with a note. I stare at the envelope, not wanting to open it. The customer isn’t saying anything, just staring at me. I suddenly get really, really angry. I look at my stapler and debate just throwing it at his face. I quickly toss that idea aside and open the envelope. Inside is a deposit. I complete the deposit and hand the customer the slip. The customer never says a word, just stares at me the whole time. I feel shaky so I go tell my manager about it.)

Me: “He just scared me the whole time. His facial expression never changed, and he never said a word.”

Manager: “What was his name?”

Me: “[Customer].”

Manager: “Oh, he’s deaf. That’s why he didn’t say anything. He’s a regular at the main branch, but sometimes he stops in here.”

(Boy, was I glad I didn’t throw my stapler at him!)

She’s P-Waaaaaaay Off Course

, , , , , | Right | March 5, 2019

(I have come into a fast food restaurant for a quick bite. There is a woman in front of me waiting in line.)

Woman: “Where is my food?”

Cashier: “Oh, I’m sorry. Have you been waiting long? I’ve just come on.”

Woman: “Yes. I have been waiting forever!

Cashier: “Do you have an order number? Maybe just tell me your order and I’ll find it.”

Woman: “You mean I have to order?!

Cashier: *taken aback* “Yes. How else would we know what you want?”

Woman: “That’s ridiculous. I’m the Mayor’s PA. You should know what I want!”

Cashier: *dumbfounded*

Me: “Actually, you aren’t [Mayor]’s PA, because my grandmother has that honour.”

Woman: “I have no idea who that is! I’m the PA for the Mayor in [Town].”

(The cashier and I both look at each other, bewildered.)

Cashier: “Umm, where is that, exactly?”

Woman: “It’s in Norfolk.”

(We are literally on the Welsh border here, so the woman was talking about a town on the other side of the country. The cashier was literally speechless. After a few seconds the woman screamed that they were all incompetent and stormed out.)

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