Thank You For The Music Facts

, , , , | Working | January 19, 2018

(An “ABBA” song comes on in the shop, and I quietly sing along while paying.)

Cashier: “You like ABBA?”

Me: “I do.”

Cashier: *staring at my driving licence* “When did they break up?”

Me: “’83, I think.”

Cashier: “Well, you can’t like them. You were born in ‘89.”

Me: *staring at his t-shirt* “When were you born?”

Cashier: “1998.”

Me: “And you like Nirvana?”

(He blushed and finished my purchase. You’ve got to love hypocrites.)

Return The Stuff, Remove The Staff

, , , , , , | Working | January 13, 2018

Me: “Could I return this, please?”

Cashier: “Oh, my God. That is hideous. Why on earth would you buy that?!”

Me: *not appreciating her attitude* “None of your business. Could I return it, please?”

Cashier: “No. This is punishment for buying something so awful.” *runs away laughing*

(I stare at her in shock while a manager comes from the other end of the checkout.)

Manager: *grinning* “Caught her, finally! Let’s get this refunded.”

(While doing the refund, the manager told me all about how the cashier and her two friends had been misbehaving, and that her spectacle with me was all she needed to finally fire them all. I’ve honestly never seen someone so happy.)

If You’re Screwed You Win

, , , , , , , , | Working | January 3, 2018

(I am walking past the checkouts and see a few workers pointing at random customers. One points at me. I decide to investigate.)

Me: “Sorry, I couldn’t help noticing… What are you talking about?”

Coworker #1: *nervous* “Umm, we were just playing a game.”

Coworker #2: “F***, marry, kill?”

Me: “Oh, I know that.” *walks away* “Wait… Which one was I?”

Coworker #2: “Umm, f***.”

Me: “Oh!”

Coworker #2: “But I would have to get really drunk beforehand… but only because I’m gay. Not because you aren’t attractive, or anything.”

Me: “Oh, okay.”

Coworker #2: “I think I’ll just go over there and kill myself now.”

Me: “Oh, well. Nice knowing you!”

(As I walked away I heard them grilling him on why he told me. Despite it being highly inappropriate, I found it quite funny. I also was the one who asked, so I didn’t really have a right to be offended, anyway.)

Ice Cream Is Sweet Child Of Mine

, , , , , , | Working | December 21, 2017

(I go into a self-serve frozen yogurt shop, where they let you choose a cup size and then charge by weight. When I go in, there’s a small boy with a huge tub, filling it with every flavor and topping he can find. I get a small cup and finish up pretty quickly. The boy comes to stand next to me at the counter after I have already put my yogurt on the scale.)

Me: “This will be all.”

Cashier: “What about his?”

Me: “Um, he’s not mine.”

Cashier: *laughs*

Me: “I’m not joking. He was here when I came in, and has clearly been at it awhile to fill that giant tub. Did you not see him before?”

Cashier: “Listen, I know it will be pretty expensive, but you have to pay for your son.”

Me: “Yeah, I don’t have any children. He isn’t mine.”

Cashier: “Well, whose else could he be? You’re the only other person in here!”

Me: *quietly* “Which means he has an irresponsible mother, but that mother is not me.”

Cashier: “I’m not letting you leave without paying.”

Me: *sighs, turns to little boy* “Please tell this lady where your mom is.”

Little Boy: *looking very confused* “She’s in the car outside.” *holding up a couple $20 bills* “She gave me this for ice cream!”

Me: “Great, thanks.”

Cashier: *looking absolutely disgusted* “Your total is $3.78. How was I supposed to know he wasn’t with you?”

(I just left. I get that it was a weird situation, but seriously, how did she not see the kid in the tiny shop for what must have been at least ten minutes before I walked in? And why on earth would I lie about not being a child’s mother? Parents of the world, please chaperone your kids. Don’t assume an employee is paying them any attention at all!)

One Draw Closes, Another One Opens

, , , , , | Working | December 20, 2017

(I have just finished paying and am waiting on my change. The cashier closes the register, though, and says goodbye.)

Me: “My change?”

Cashier: “What?”

Me: “My change. You haven’t given it to me.”

Cashier: “Oops, sorry about that.”

(She doesn’t do anything.)

Me: “Could you give it to me, then, please?”

Cashier: “No, that’s not my problem.”

Me: “I think it is. You haven’t given me my money back. If you aren’t willing to fix it, could you call someone over?”

Cashier: “I can call my manager, but he will just tell you the same.”

(She calls him over and explains. The manager face-palms, opens the drawer, and gives me my change.)

Cashier: *blushing* “But you said when the drawer was closed it wasn’t my problem anymore!”

Manager: “No, I said it isn’t a problem if you need to open the drawer. You can either ask me or a head cashier.” *to me* “I am so sorry about this, miss. She’s new. Ha, the youth of today, eh?”

(I mock-laughed with him while giving a cashier a sympathetic look, and saying it really wasn’t that big of a deal. Honestly, though, I looked younger than her, so either she wasn’t too bright or she genuinely misunderstood. Either way, further instruction would have fixed the problem rather than humiliating her.)

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