The Gift Bag That Keeps On Giving

, , , , , , , , | Working | January 30, 2018

(I am picking up a gift on my way to a baby shower. Most of the items I’m purchasing are not “typical” shower gifts, but they are very obviously baby items, plus a card, a baby shower gift bag, and tissue paper.)

Me: “You can just put all the items in the gift bag.”

(The cashier puts the gift bag in a plastic bag and continues scanning my items.)

Me: *speaking up* “Sorry, I said you can put all my items in the gift bag.”

(The cashier now starts putting my other items into a second plastic bag.)

Cashier: “I didn’t want to mess up the gift bag!”

Me: “Well, everything is going into the gift bag, anyway, so…”

(At this point, I’ve just given up, as the cashier continues putting everything in plastic bags. When she’s finished ringing me up, she takes the first plastic bag, opens the gift bag — but leaves it inside the plastic bag — and then takes the second plastic bag and tries to put it, still bagged, into the gift bag.)

Me: “Just… Never mind. Don’t worry about it.”

Cashier: “You said you wanted it in the gift bag!”

Me: “I wanted it in the gift bag so I wouldn’t need all these plastic bags!”

Cashier: “Oh…”

(The cashier then took everything out of the plastic bags and re-bagged it in the gift bag like I asked, but she wasted five minutes of her time, my time, and the time of the other customers behind me by doing it the wrong way first.)

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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.)

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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.)

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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.)

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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!)

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