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A Recipe For Disaster, Part 5

, , , , , , | Working | January 16, 2015

(When I was two, I was diagnosed with Celiac disease, which means that I can’t eat gluten. So I’m gluten-free, but most definitely not by choice. The most difficult part is eating out, because often employees won’t know what to do.)

Me: “Is this item gluten-free?”

Employee: “No, nothing is free.”

Me: “No, does this item have any gluten in it?”

Employee: “Gluten? What is gluten?”

Me: “Wheat, barley, rye, oats, or spelt — are any of those ingredients in this product?”

Employee: “One second.”

(He then gets out his iPhone, and I presume it’s to call someone who created the product to make sure. Instead, he goes onto Google to search up “gltin.”)

Employee: “How do you spell it?”

Me: “Uh, never mind. I’ll just have [product that in no way could have gluten].”

Related:
A Recipe For Disaster, Part 4
A Recipe For Disaster, Part 3
A Recipe For Disaster, Part 2
A Recipe For Disaster


This story is part of our Celiac Awareness Day roundup!

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Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 8

, , | Right | December 30, 2014

(I work at a small store that sell shoes and other kinds of items such as scarves and hats. The owner occasionally gives out gift cards to customers who have paid over 150$ on a single purchase. One day, a woman comes in with her husband.)

Me: “Good evening, ma’am. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Yes, I came here a week ago and bought a bunch of stuff; the owner gave me this.” *shows it to me*

Me: *confirms it is the gift cards we have* “Do you need help choosing which items you want to buy?”

Customer: *starts getting angry* “No, thanks. You can wait in the back.”

(I leave and wait near the cash registers. When she finally comes with her desired items, it consists of seven scarves and a baseball cap.)

Me: “Very well. Could you please hand me the gift card?”

Customer: *annoyed* “Can’t I just take these items and you keep the card?”

Me: “I need to make sure this card is legitimate, ma’am. It won’t take long, no worries.”

(The expiration date is over a year ago. The woman seems ready to start the argument at this point.)

Me: “Ma’am, the gift card is way beyond it’s expiration date and you’re going to have to pay with cash, check, or your credit card in order to receive those items.”

Customer: “So? I know the owner; I’ve been friends with her for a long time. She told me that I wouldn’t have to worry about the date and could come whenever I wanted!”

Me: “Would you mind if I called her to verify? Could I have your name, ma’am?”

Customer: *anxious* “Y-yeah, go ahead. I’m [Customer].”

(I call the owner.)

Me: “Hi, [Owner], this is [My Name]. There’s this woman here that has a gift card and the expiration date is [date]. She also claims to be one of your friends and her name is [Customer], and that because of that she’s able to use the card whenever without worrying about the expiration date.”

Owner: “If she were indeed my friend, she wouldn’t have received a card at all. Refuse the card and ask her to pay for it, or tell her to leave. Drama is one thing, and I don’t want it in my store.” *clicks*

Me: “I’m afraid the card is no longer valid. You’re going to have to pay with something else.”

Woman: *turns red* “T-this is UNACCEPTABLE! I’m never coming back to this store, and you can bet your a** that I will make it my life goal to make sure that THIS PLACE CLOSES!” *leaves*

Me: *tries not to laugh* “Have a nice day, ma’am!”

(She leaves but her husband hangs back to talk to me.)

Husband: “I knew it would turn out like this. She does this all the time when she sees an opportunity of getting free stuff.”

(I never saw them again.)

 

Pranksgiving Was Last Month

, , , , | Romantic | December 23, 2014

(It’s Christmas time and I work at a store that’s primarily known for selling costume jewelry, like plastic, surgical steel, and cubic zirconia. As it’s the holiday season and the store is heavily marketed towards women, anytime one of the staff sees a man walk into the store we automatically assume that they’re shopping for someone else, and usually needs help navigating through the eons of pink. On this day I see one such man.)

Me: “Hi there! Can I help you find something today?”

Man: “Uh, yeah, I’m looking for a ring.”

Me: “All right. If you’ll follow me I’ll take you straight to them.”

(I take him to the rings and start showing him the different products.)

Me: “So, is there anything that catches your eye?”

Man: “Not really. I’m looking for something really fancy looking. Like one that looks like a real diamond ring.”

Me: “Well, unfortunately, we don’t have much. We used to have a lot of that kind of stuff, but the company’s decided to focus more on trendy designs. Are you sure it has to be fancy looking?”

Man: “Yeah, it has to look like an engagement ring. I’m playing a trick on my girlfriend.”

Me: “…uh, maybe you could try [Competitor]?”

Man: “Oh, thanks! I’ll check there.”

(The man leaves as I stand there, flabbergasted at what he had just told me. Later I tell the story to a coworker and her response said it all.)

Coworker: “Well, I hope he immediately pulls out a real ring, or he’s going to be spending this New Year’s alone.”

Not An Apples To Apples World Anymore

, , , , , , | Working | December 15, 2014

(I’m buying some fruit, and I’ve brought my own reusable cloth bags.)

Cashier: *stares blankly into my bag, which contains Macintosh apples*

Bagger: “What’s the matter?”

Cashier: “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

Bagger: “The cloth bags? Yeah, they’re not that common.”

Cashier: “No, man. These APPLES, man! What the heck are they? I’ve never seen apples like these in my life.”

Bagger: “Uh, they’re Macintoshes. We sell a lot of those.”

Cashier: *shaking his head* “There are so many different types of apples, man, and I can’t keep up.”


This story is part of our Macintosh roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

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Texan Bull In A China Shop

, , , , | Right | December 11, 2014

(I am Canadian; I was born in Canada and have lived here all my life. I don’t look Chinese at all, though my hair is brown. This day, a racist customer decided I was Chinese.)

Customer: “Hey, [slur for Asian people]! Hurry up; we didn’t let you in this country to laze about!”

Me: *calmly* “Nice accent. Where are you from?”

Customer: “Texas. Now, d*** well hurry up! I have places to be!”

Me: “Well, first off, you’re Texan so you didn’t let me into the country. Second, my mother may have come to Canada thirty years ago, but it was from England where she was born and her great-grandparents were born! Third, my father’s family emigrated to Canada from England in 1926! So, no, I am not Chinese! Now get out of my country!”

Customer: “Call your manager! Right now! I’m getting you fired!”

Manager: *who heard the whole thing, in his best accent* “You need to tell this [slur] something, sir?”

(The customer ran away from my manager: a very annoyed, very big Chinese man.)


This story is part of our “Where are you from?” roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

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