And This Person Is Trusted To Read Road Signs?

, , , , , | Right | January 29, 2018

(I own an online auto parts store, and this is a common phone call that I get every day.)

Me: “[Auto Parts Store].”

Customer: “Hi, I saw your ad online for car part and was wondering if you have it in stock.”

Me: “Was there a ‘buy it now’ button?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Then it’s in stock.”

Customer: “Does it fit a 2005?”

Me: “What does it say in the heading?”

Customer: “2004 through 2007.”

Me: “Yes, it fits a 2005.”

Customer: “How much are you asking for it?”

Me: “How much does it say on the listing?”

Customer: “$35.”

Me: “$35.”

Customer: “Will you take $30?”

Me: “Sure.”

Customer: “Okay, I’m not even sure if that’s the problem I have with the car. I’ll find out, and if it turns out I need this part, I’ll be in touch with you.” *click*

Me: “…”

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His Comments Elevated Him To True Jerk Status

, , , , , , | Right | January 26, 2018

After I got out of the military I took a temporary job working security at an outdoor mall.

I was actually required to wear a locator so the powers that be could see if I was walking around enough on my 12-hour shift.

My feet were horribly blistered from so much walking. So, I went to take an elevator to the second floor. This actually was part of my job, to look for vandalism.

When I pressed the button, I heard someone make a remark that I could tell was a snide one.

“I’m sorry, can I help you?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he responded, then said, “Lazy rent-a-cop.”

I responded, “Well, I’ve been walking for ten hours, on a twelve hour shift. My feet are blistered, and my knee is screaming. I’m a disabled veteran, so is it really a problem if I take an elevator?”

That shut him up. For the record, I am a disabled vet, though my knee injury was an operational one, not a combat one.

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Express-Lane Their Opinion

, , , , , | Right | January 26, 2018

(It is 8:00 pm on a normal, quiet Sunday night, and out of the blue, we get extremely busy. I call up all of my available backup cashiers, and proceed to ring up my line as quickly as possible. A customer comes up near the end of the rush and slams the item divider onto the conveyor belt, then places his four small tubes of homeopathic pills behind it. He waits his turn, as there is only one mid-sized order in front of him, I ring him up, and then:)

Customer: “Can I make a suggestion? You need to have your express lane open at all times. It’s just unfair that I have to wait in line while you ring up all of these huge orders. This is all I have. It’s just not right.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. This time of night, we just don’t have the staffing for that.”

Customer: “Well, you have the staffing for that lane, this lane, and those lanes.”

Me: “Yes, I’ve temporarily called them up from other departments to help out. But I’ll certainly take your suggestion into consideration.”

(My manager is ringing customers up behind me, and I draw his attention to my customer.)

Me: “Sir, this gentleman is suggesting that we keep our express lane open during all business hours. Just passing that along to you.”

Manager: “Sounds good. We’ll work on it.” *he dismissively goes back to serving his customer*

Customer: *in a huffy, irate tone* “I just don’t see why you can’t have it open at all times. It’s just good customer service.”

Me: “Absolutely, sir. I’ve passed your suggestion along to my manager, and we’ll certainly take it into consideration. It’s not a bad idea at all.”

(His continued glares kept me rambling positive affirmations until he took his four tubes of sugar pills and departed. By the time he’d finished his little rant, we were back down to two registers, and the store stayed quiet right up to closing time.)

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Unfiltered Story #104368

, , | Unfiltered | January 26, 2018

I am working in the deli section of a supermarket stocking a new shipment of groceries when a customer walks up to me

Customer: Hey boo, do y’all have any of those “Fotu” rolls

Me, almost instantly trying not to laugh: You mean TOFU?

Customer: “No not Tofu, Fotu. you know, that raw fish stuff or whateva'”

Me: “We do have TOFU, but if you mean SUSHI rolls, I can show you where it is”

Customer, now getting upset: “I DIDN’T SAY I WANTED TOFU. I WANT FOTU!!!”

Me, trying my absolute hardest not to bust up laughing: “Ok ma’am, I apologize, let see if we can find you some “Fotu” (leads her to the seafood section, and points to the pre-packaged sushi rolls)

Customer: “Yeah that’s it!!! Thanks boo!! — WAIT. Why does it say sushi then? I TOLD YOU I wanted Fotu!” (She throws the package back in the deli case and storms off)

Manager, watching the entire time: “After that I think you need to GoTu your break right about now, I’ll finish the deli”

The A-Grade Is Silent

, , , , , , , | Learning | January 23, 2018

(I have just started college, and all the freshmen have to take a “How to Succeed in College” course. My name is Aileen — pronounced “I-lean” — which is an unusual spelling of an old-fashioned name. The first week of class is the only time my teacher takes attendance. She does so by passing out the attendance sheet while going over the syllabus and having us all mark our names. The next class, she tells us that she is going to give us all numbers, and to put those down instead of our names on everything. I enjoy school, and while overall I am fairly shy, I do like to participate in class. As long as I know the subject being talked about I can talk your ear off. As soon as something flusters me, or I don’t know the correct response, I clam up. During the fourth class, I raise my hand to answer a question.)

Teacher: “Yes, Ellie?”

Me: “It’s ‘Aileen.’”

Teacher: *laughing* “Oh, Ellie, you have such a sense of humor.”

(I’m not really sure how to respond, and so far my schooling has taught me not to talk back to teachers. I let the subject drop and answer the question. From then on my teacher only calls me Ellie. I try a few times to tell her my name is Aileen, not Ellie, but each time she just laughs and calls me silly. She hands back all of my tests and assignments just fine and I get good marks on everything. So, I drop the matter and just let her call me whatever she wants. At the end of the semester, I look up my grade and find that I have failed the class. I email the teacher in confusion, asking her what has happened.)

Teacher: *via email* “I’m sorry that you are unhappy with your grade, Ms. Aileen, but my records show that you never participated in class. Unfortunately, I cannot give you a grade you did not earn. Please re-enroll next semester. You must finish this class before you are able to take your major requirements.”

(I go to my school counselor, not sure what to do. They set up a meeting with the teacher and me to try to figure out what is going on. I go to the meeting at the appointed time and walk in to find the teacher and counselor talking. The teacher looks up at me.)

Teacher: “Ellie! What are you doing here?”

Counselor: “Her name is Aileen, not Ellie.”

Teacher: “No, that’s just a joke between us. I thought we were here to discuss…” *she pronounces my name A-lean*

Me: “The A is silent; it’s pronounced ‘I-lean.’”

(The meeting was very awkward after that, but the teacher did fix my grade. It turned out there was an Ellie in the class who never showed up. The teacher gave her my grade. I never really figured out what was going through that teacher’s head. Thankfully, I never had to deal with her again.)

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