A Monstrous Way To Raise Money

| WA, Australia | Working | October 28, 2015

(I’ve been instructed by my supervisor to try and suggestive sell some charity donations that we’re doing, but customers have been really snappy about it when I try.)

Me: “Hey, [Supervisor], how should I sell these?”

Supervisor: “Oh. Um. Emphasize that it’s only a dollar, I guess.”

Me: “So what, like, ‘Would you like to support [Charity] for only a dollar?'”

Supervisor: “Sure. Or like, I don’t know, ‘Save a child’s life for only a dollar. If you don’t donate, you’re directly responsible for a child dying.'”

Me: “I feel like [Store Manager] wouldn’t approve of that.”

Supervisor: “Yeah, but we have a competition going so she doesn’t have to know. Have you seen the stack she’s gotten from the food counter? Pull out all stops. ‘If you don’t donate, you have murdered a sick child. You monster.'”

Me: “Her name’s Jessica. She’s five years old.”

Supervisor: “We’re one dollar away from saving her life.”

Me: “I might stick to just telling them it’s only a dollar.”

Supervisor: “It’s like you don’t even care, [My Name].”

Bitter About The Caramel

| TX, USA | Right | October 27, 2015

(I work for a well-known coffee chain, and we have our fair share of crazy customers. One morning, a customer storms up to the counter where a relatively new coworker is running the register.)

Customer: “This is wrong! Remake this immediately!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry about that. Can you help me understand what you did want? I see here that we made you a white mocha with caramel.”

Customer: “I came through the drive through and I said I wanted caramel! You didn’t give me f****** caramel!”

Coworker: “I can fix that for you. Would you prefer caramel drizzle or the syrup?”

Customer: “I want caramel!” *she then thrusts the cup at my coworker, sending it skidding across the counter top* “There’s no caramel in my cup!”

Coworker: *opens the cup* “Oh, they put drizzle on here, instead of the syrup. I got you. Just a moment.”

Customer: “If you weren’t so f****** stupid and could do your f****** job right the first f****** time, I wouldn’t have to come back for such a stupid f****** reason!”

(At this point, I’m about to step in despite being tied up at the window, but my coworker bursts into tears and starts sniffling.)

Coworker: “I am genuinely sorry about this. Please, let me fix this for you. It won’t take but a minute—” *she goes to remake the drink, with the customer oddly quiet and hovering at the hand off* “—Here, please, taste this. I want you to be happy with your beverage.”

Customer: *takes the drink, takes a sip, shoves something into my coworker’s hand, and all but runs out the door*

Me: “Are you okay?”

Coworker: *turns to me, her eyes super red, sniffs once, and wrinkles her nose* “My allergies are wreaking havoc on my sinuses and eyes. Can I go take some medicine?”

Me: “You’re sure you’re fine?”

Coworker: *straight out grins* “Absolutely. I got us a five dollar tip! AND I gave her decaf!”

1 Thumbs

Having A Delayed Case Of The Mondays

| Winnipeg, MT, Canada | Working | October 26, 2015

(My coworker and I are always on the lookout for a new place to get coffee. As we were walking down Main Street, we spotted a new shop that had a large sign saying “WEDNESDAY SPECIAL: BUY ONE LATTE, GET ONE FREE”. Since it was a Wednesday, we thought that would be a good excuse to try the new place.)

Me: “We’d like two lattes, please.”

Clerk: “That will be [full price].”

Me: “Aren’t you having a buy one, get one free special?”

Clerk: “What? No.”

Me: “But your sign outside says you are.”

Clerk: “What sign?” *goes to take a look* “Oh, that sign. Well, it doesn’t matter, anyway. That’s only for Wednesdays.”

Me: “Today IS Wednesday.”

Clerk: “It is?”

(We never went back, and we weren’t surprised to see that they were closed a month later.)

Trouble Brewing, Part 7

, | VT, USA | Right | October 23, 2015

Customer: “Do you have iced tea?”

Me: “Um, yes, we have lots of kinds of iced tea. Are you looking for a single-serving bottle or for a big bottle?”

Customer: “What? No, I just want iced tea.”

Me: “Um, okay, sure. There are a lot of coolers around the store that hold chilled drinks. You can find some at the other end of this aisle here, or at the other end of this one here, facing the meat and seafood. Or there are big bottles held at room temperature in the juice aisle, or—”

Customer: “No, no. What? I just want some iced tea! Some iced tea, just like you have the iced coffee!” *he gestures to some large self-service carafes which hold strong coffee to be poured over cups of ice*

Me: “Oh, you mean you want it to be brewed in-house? I’m sorry; we don’t sell it that way here.”

Customer: “No, I don’t want it brewed in-house. What?”

Me: “Okay, so you want a bottle of iced tea?”

Customer: “No! I just want to buy a cup of iced tea!”

Me: “Uh, okay… I’m sorry, I’m really trying to understand you, but I’m just not sure what you’re asking for. Sometimes a store sells iced tea in bottles, and they’re packaged somewhere else and then we just sell them. Sometimes a store sells iced tea that they’ve brewed themselves on the premises. We only sell it in bottles that come from outside companies. There’s a cafe down the block that might sell it homemade, if that’s what you want. I can give you direc—”

Customer: “I just find it incredible that you really don’t sell just plain iced tea.”

Me: “Sir, I didn’t say that. We have plenty of iced tea.”

Customer: “I want you to stop looking at me like I’m insane for trying to get some plain iced tea!”

Me: “I’m sorry! I’m just trying to figure out how else a store could possibly sell iced tea. You don’t want it brewed elsewhere and bottled and shipped here, and you don’t want it to be brewed here in the store—”

(At this point my customer turned around and walked away, still looking completely pissed off.)

Trouble Brewing, Part 6
Trouble Brewing, Part 5
Trouble Brewing, Part 4

A Weighty Subject Best Avoided

| London, England, UK | Friendly | October 18, 2015

(I’m meeting up with a friend who I’ve often had coffee with. I’m partially disabled and a plus-sized woman. We’ve just got our coffees and I’m reaching for the sugar jar on the table when she grabs my wrist.)

Friend: “Sorry, but, look, someone needs to tell you this.”

Me: “What? I got a bogey hanging out my nose or something?”

Friend: “Yes, you make jokes about everything but it’s time you accepted this.”

Me: “What?”

Friend: “You need to lose weight. Seriously.”

Me: “Riiiight. I’m not having this conversation. You know my past. We were friends when I nearly died from anorexia in my teens, remember?”

Friend: “Yeah, but maybe you could eat less, like you did then? Just until you get down to a healthy weight, of course! No longer than that!”

Me: “Thanks for the concern but I eat perfectly healthily, thanks.”

Friend: “You probably wouldn’t need your walking sticks either if you had less weight to carry around. Please! I care about you and I want to see you get better!”

Me: “Yeahhh, no. This isn’t a conversation I’m okay with. Let’s talk about books or Doctor Who like we normally do, eh?”

(Later that afternoon she sent me multiple emails about various fad diets and intensive gym workouts, none of which I can do with my disabilities. I haven’t calmed down enough to reply to her yet!)

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