This Kind Of Weirdness Can’t Fit In A Box

, , , , | Right | September 29, 2017

Customer: “I have six boxes I want to ship. Can you do that?”

Me: “Sure, we can.”

Customer: “Okay. They might be heavy; I have a lot of clothes in them.”

Me: “That’s okay; the max weight for shipping out is 150 pounds.”

Customer: “Oh. I have a lot of cotton clothes. But there’s six boxes.”

Me: “Okay. Do you have them here?”

Customer: “No. But you’ll be able to tell me, right?”

Me: “Tell you what?”

Customer: “Yeah… see, ’cause I have to send all these costumes back, and some of them are heavy, like one of them is 7 pounds on its own, but most of the other clothes are just cotton.”

Me: “…oh.”

Customer: “So, you’ll have an idea, right?”

Me: “An idea of what?”

Customer: “Of the cost.”

Me: “Oh, well I can create an estimate. Where’s it going?”

Customer: “California.”

Me: “Okay, do you have the zip code?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Do you have the address?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “I’ll need one or the other in order to get a proper quote for you. Do you have it saved in your phone or something?”

Customer: “No. But yeah. You can get an idea. Yeah, there’s a lot of clothes that I’m sending, and I’m so mad that I have to send them all back. It’ll probably be 150 pounds once I fill all the boxes.”

(I kind of want her to stop talking, since I don’t even know how to respond to her, so I type in 90210 as the zip code so that I can give her some kind of quote.)

Me: “This quote isn’t totally accurate, because I just put in 90210 for the zip code, but it’s coming up to [price]. That’s for six boxes at this size, all equaling 150 pounds.”

Customer: “WHAT?! That’s so expensive! How much would it cost to send it Canada Post?”

Me: “I’m not sure; you’d have to go to the post office.”

Customer: “Because this guy, his size is like 34x34x34! Like, you’ve got to be joking! So I put the pants on and they come up to my neck! I was so mad! I can’t wear these! They said they’d send me 50 bucks to mail them back, but there’s so many costumes!”

Me: “…oh.”

Customer: “But, oh my gosh, you’ve been so helpful! Thank you so much! Oh my gosh, I’m so happy now! Thanks!”

(She leaves and I turn to my coworker:)
Me: “That was weird.”

Should Slide Right Past That Fact

, , , | Learning | September 29, 2017

(I am at a group interview for a supply teaching position at an international school. The job asks us to put together a slideshow about ourselves and tell why we would be a great fit for the school. The first person goes, and he does a pretty good job. He’s a bit quiet but is obviously very educated, and it looks like it is going well. That is, until he gets to the last part of the slide, that makes me do a double take.)

Teacher Candidate: *What I think I hear him say:* “…and another reason why I think I would do well here is that my girlfriend is a student here.”

(I immediately stiffened up and looked closer at the slide to see if I really heard what I thought I heard. It turns out that he said his girlfriend WAS a student here, but that didn’t make it that much better, especially considering he was in his late 20s and she was a recent graduate. I eventually got hired at the school and worked there for two years, but I never saw him again.)

A Very Fibrous Blouse

, , , , | Related | September 29, 2017

(I’m toasting some granola that I made last week, to give it some more crunch. I went to a wedding last night.)

Mom: “What did you wear to the wedding last night?”

Me: *shows Mom my outfit*

Mom: “Oh, that’s a nice blouse.” *sniffs* “What are you eating down here?”

Me: “Some granola.”

Mom: “Oh. Where did you get it?”

Me: “I made it.”

Mom: “You made it?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Mom: “How did you make it?”

Me: “I took some oatmeal and nuts and—”

Mom: “YOU MADE THAT SHIRT OUT OF OATMEAL?”

Me: “What? No. I thought you were talking about the granola. I bought this shirt a few years ago. How would I make a shirt out of oatmeal?”

How Em-Bra-assing, Part 4

, , , , , | Right | September 29, 2017

(I am a teenager, working at a local full-service gas station. When someone gets fuel, we wash windows as well as check their oil if they want. One day, a woman in her early to mid-20s comes in. She is gorgeous and I have a serious crush on her. Important to note, her car has a car-bra on it.)

Me: “Hi there. How are you today?”

Customer: “Good, thank you. Fill it up and check the oil, please.”

Me: “Sure thing, but I’ll need you to remove your bra, please.”

(Immediately after I say this, I realize what it sounded like. My face goes red and hot.)

Customer: *laughing* “I don’t think I need my oil checked that bad.”

Me: *flustered* “Oh, no, I am so sorry. I mean your car-bra! Oh, my, I am so sorry!”

Customer: *laughing* “Oh, I know what you meant;  I just wanted to have some fun with you.”

(And that is how I completely embarrassed myself in front of a hot older woman.)

Canadian Politeness Is XL

, , , , | Working | September 28, 2017

I was working in a gift shop at a popular amusement park, and there were only two weeks left until we closed for the season, so all the staff were getting pretty laid back.

We had these sweatshirts that kept falling off their hangers, because only sizes XL and 2XL were left.

One of my workers got so annoyed at these sweatshirts that she just yanked them off the rack and threw them in the back room. Our boss didn’t like that, so she tried another tactic. She just left the sweatshirts in precarious positions on the hangers, waiting for guests to knock them over. Because we Canadians are so polite, the customers would stop and hang the sweatshirts back up themselves, saving us the trouble.

I thought it was brilliant.

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