The Guy’s A Real Animal. Period.

, , , , , | Working | July 9, 2020

I have a really stupid coworker who is so slow doing the most basic jobs in the warehouse, like putting stickers on products, that he gets sent to my department to “help” me in the hope that my fast-speed and no-talk attitude at work will get him to do something in his workday.

I have him packing orders I’ve already picked and he keeps trying to talk to me. I am female; he is male. The tone in my voice by this point is very blunt and not happy, but for some reason, he keeps trying to be friends.

Coworker: “I love volunteering for [Non-Profit Animal Organisation].”

Me: “Cool.”

Coworker: “Yeah, but I just saw that there’s a rescuer up the road for a little owl.”

Me: “Okay.”

Coworker: “I was thinking I would go help but I don’t have a car today and caught the train in.”

I make a vague “hmm” noise.

Coworker: “Someone is already taking care of it but I was thinking I would go and take over. I could take it home on the train and drop it at the vet on my way home.”

Me: “That’s stupid. You’re at work now and that person probably has a car and won’t traumatise the poor thing on a packed train for forty minutes. Just. Do. Your. Job.”

Coworker: “Oh, yeah. Just a moral dilemma, you know?”

Me: “Nup.”

He stays quiet for about two whole minutes and then suddenly gives me this gem.

Coworker: “You know, I don’t get grossed out like other guys about girl stuff. Like, I don’t get grossed out about periods, so if you want to talk about your period with me, you can.”

I just walked upstairs to management and asked if he could go anywhere else. My manager responded with a smile, trying not to laugh at my expression, and said, “He’s annoying you that much, huh?”

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The Weird Adventures Of Brenda The Desperado

, , , | Right | July 6, 2020

I see a lot of interesting people in my store. I’m a fairly new employee and this is only my second week working there. It’s about two in the morning and I’m just kind of messing around and taking sips off a nasty new Coke product. 

In comes the most intriguing man ever. From the top down, he has a cowboy hat, long hair and beard, white denim jacket, tie-dye shirt, white jeans, and expensive snakeskin cowboy boots. He’s perusing for a bit and I’m expecting something outrageous to happen. I notice he has a revolver on his hip, and I get a little scared. 

He grabs two bottles of wine and some jerky. He brings them to the register and points through an overhead cigarette rack to a pack of Lucky Strikes — a weird non-filter cigarette brand I know was popular during the Second World War. I ring him up and tell him his total. He rifles through a wallet full of Monopoly money and foreign currency but decides to use his card. Card approved.

I start bagging his stuff and he’s just eyeing me. It kind of feels like he’s examining me for some sort of reaction. I make eye contact a couple of times and feel very small. His eyes are piercing me. 

I give him his bags and receipts and he actually starts talking, drumming up a casual conversation about concentration camps.

Actual quotes.

Cowboy: “Do you subscribe to the idea of Holocaust denial?”

Me: “Uh…”

Cowboy: “Hitler was an evil man. But he wasn’t so clever as to fake his death camps.”

Me: “Definitely not clever.”

Cowboy: “Would you be able to do it?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Cowboy: “Fake a concentration camp for fake political fulfillment.”

Me: “I mean, no. I work at a convenience store.”

Cowboy: “Hitler was a painter and half a eunuch. You have your balls, right?”

Me: “Uh…”

The cowboy nods politely and begins to leave. 

Me: “What’s your name, sir?”

Cowboy: “Call me Brenda.”

This man comes in twice a week and hasn’t spoken a word since. I love my job.

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Re-lease Me From Your Clutches!

, , , , , | Working | July 6, 2020

I get a call from my leasing company about my apartment while I’m at work. They leave a voicemail asking me to call them back. I get another call about an hour later, from the same office, but a different extension and person. They leave virtually the same voicemail. 

Twenty minutes later, I get an email from my leasing company asking if I can come in the following day before 2:00 pm. 

Finally, I’m a little fed up with them leaving me vague messages, so I return the email. 

Leasing Agent: “Please come to the office tomorrow before 2:00 pm. Thanks.” 

Me: “I’m at work all day today, and I’m also at work tomorrow during the hours you’re open. What is this in regards to?” 

Leasing Agent: “This is in regards to your apartment. Thanks.” 

I internally facepalm.

Me: “Yes, I was able to figure that out, considering you’re my leasing agent. Again, I am unable to come into the office either today or tomorrow during your hours, so could you please tell me what this is about? If we can handle this over email, that would be ideal.” 

Leasing Agent: “It is about your apartment. I’ve put you down for a meeting tomorrow at 2:00 pm. See you then.” 

Frustrated and realizing they aren’t understanding what I’m trying to say, I ask my boss if I can take my lunch break the following day at 1:45 so I can go to my leasing office. He agrees to let me go.

When I arrive at the office, no one working has any idea that I was supposed to come in or what the meeting is to be about, so I ask that they leave a note for whoever emailed me to call me back the following day. I also give them my work hours so they can tell the agent when not to call me. 

Sure enough, the next day, I receive an email during my work hours from the first leasing agent.

Leasing Agent: “Your account with us has been flagged as you did not make any effort to attend your mandatory scheduled meeting.” 

I’d had enough. I took my break to call the leasing office and immediately asked for the supervisor. I explained the situation to her and she checked the email log to find the leasing agent in question. 

It turned out it was the leasing agent they had just let go, who still had access to the main email account. They subsequently changed all work-related passwords and offered me a free cleaning service to apologize for the confusion.

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Tso Much For Customer Service

, , , , , | Working | July 6, 2020

I need to stop at the grocery store after work. There’s a Chinese takeout/delivery right next door, so I decide to call in an order. My plan is to get what I need from the store and then walk over to get my food. The girl who answers the phone doesn’t have an accent; we should have no trouble understanding each other.

Me: “Hi. I’d like to place an order for takeout.”

Waitress: “Go ahead.”

Me: “I’d like the General Tso’s platter.”

Waitress: “The what?”

Me: “The General Tso’s platter? You know, as opposed to the small portion.”

Waitress: “Are you sure you called the right place?”

I’m thinking I totally screwed up and called a pizza place or something.

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry. Is this not [Restaurant] Chinese?”

Waitress: “This is [Restaurant], but not [Restaurant] Chinese.”

Me: “Oh… I’m sorry.”

I was so dumbfounded by the exchange that I hung up without trying to order again. When I arrived at the grocery store, I walked over to the restaurant. The neon phone number in the window matched what I’d dialed on my phone.

I went in and ordered from a boy at the counter with no problem. While I waited, a girl came out of the back to talk with the boy who took my order; she was the girl I’d talked to on the phone! I’m still not sure what happened.

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Lettuce So Good It Tastes Unreal

, , , | Right | July 5, 2020

I answer the phone next to my register.

Customer: “I have a question. If you need to go check with someone, that’s fine.”

Me: “Okay. What’s your question?”

Customer: “Your salads…”

After a moment of silence:

Me: “Yes, we do have salads. Are you asking what kinds of salads we have?”

Customer: “No. Do you use real lettuce? Or is it from a store?”

I am struggling to come up with an answer.

Me: “Um… yes, it’s real lettuce.”

Customer: “Thanks!” *Hangs up*

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