Playing The Generation Shame

, , , , , , | Friendly | April 26, 2019

(My cousin is cursed and blessed with a very young-looking face. Despite the fact she is 35, she sometimes still gets asked for ID. I am 21 and have also inherited the family baby-face. We’re walking round a well-known mother-and-baby store chain. She is pushing her oldest child — still a toddler — in a pushchair, whilst I have her younger baby in a papoose on my back, to make things easier for her whilst she shops. We get everything she wants and join the line for the tills. Behind us are a pair of older women who start to make snippy comments about us.)

Old Lady #1: “Look at those two. Can’t keep their legs shut!”

Old Lady #2: “Ridiculous. Our generation didn’t fight in the war so that ungrateful girls like them could sponge off our war pensions.”

Old Lady #1: “I hope their mothers are ashamed.”

Old Lady #2: “I bet they’re not married. Probably no father in sight!”

Old Lady #1: “Probably a [racial slur] who slept with them for drug money.”

Old Lady #2: “Disgusting.”

(Finally, my cousin has had enough of this and turns around to speak to them.)

Cousin: “Excuse me, were you talking about me and my cousin?”

Old Lady #2: “Your ears work as well as your ovaries, then, love?”

Old Lady #1: *sniggering* “As if they know what ovaries even means!”

Cousin: “Not that it’s any of your business to judge who would and who wouldn’t make a good parent, but I’m 35, I’m married, I have a biology-based PhD, and I’m the head of Science at [Local Large Secondary School]. [My Name] here is my cousin and is just carrying my youngest daughter for me so I don’t have to use the bulky double pram on what I’d only planned as a very quick shopping trip. You’ve done nothing but make hateful assumptions, which, whilst we’re on the subject, reminds me, if – unlike me, obviously – you look your own age, then there’s no way you’re from the WWII generation. This would make you baby boomers, who’d be relying on my and [My Name]’s generation to foot your whopping NHS bills. I suggest you think before you open your mouths next time.”

Old Lady #1: *massively backpedalling* “Well, I didn’t mean my generation; my father…”

Old Lady #2: “We didn’t mean you, dear, we meant…” *looks around hoping to see a legitimate teenage mother in the store* “I… uh…”

Cousin: “Come off it! I don’t want to hear it. But I seriously hope you think before spouting any of your nonsense to your children or grandchildren without being sure of your facts!”

(They didn’t quite have the good grace to apologise, but did at least look a bit ashamed of themselves.)

It’s A Karma Lottery

, , , , , , , | Right | April 23, 2019

A woman came in and asked for a $2 lottery ticket. Without thinking, I printed one that included a bonus lottery for an extra dollar bringing the cost to $3. I realized I made a mistake and asked her if she would still like to buy the ticket. She launched into a tirade about my incompetence, today’s society, lazy youth, etc., and stormed out of the store. A man standing behind her said, “I’ll take that,” put down $3, and walked out.

A few days later, that man walked into the store, checked his ticket, and found out that he’d won $250. That same day, the disgruntled woman came into the store, checked her ticket, saw that she’d won $10, and proceeded to tell me that I almost cost her $10 and that I should make more of an effort to listen and use my brain.

I just nodded and smiled.

Behaving Like A (B)Rat

, , , , , | Right | April 20, 2019

(I work in a place that is well known for sausage rolls and coffee. All is going well for a quiet Tuesday afternoon and I haven’t served a customer in about five minutes. In comes an old fella who I don’t recognize as a regular. He places a sandwich on the counter. I ask in my usual friendly way, as upselling is an unfortunate part of the job:)

Me: “You can get a hot or cold drink with that for an extra 40p.”

Customer: *replies, colder than the British weather this week* “Did I say I wanted a drink?”

Me: *a little taken aback by his sour tone* “No, but I am required to ask.”

Customer: *grumbling hard* “I don’t want a d*** drink. All you want is to make me spend more money. I don’t like spending money.”

(Makes me wonder why he bothered coming in to buy anything in the first place, but I don’t say it aloud.)

Me: “Okay, then. That’s [price] on its own.”

Customer: *with an attitude like a toddler and obviously trying to pick a fight* “No, I don’t want it now. I wouldn’t feed it to the rats.”

Me: “That’s fine.”

(He huffs off and leaves. I am too caught off-guard to even make a witty comment about the ironic situation. About thirty minutes later, he returns. Luckily, my boss is on a break and I’m the only one here; otherwise, I’d never normally be this naughty.)

Customer: *a little less bitter now* “Two sausage rolls.”

Me: “You want sausage rolls from here? I’m sorry, but I can only give these to the rats.”

(I eventually got a small apology out of him — I was astounded! — and the rest of the transaction went all right. Just goes to show that sometimes it’s good to be a little cocky back, even if you’re not supposed to.)

The Grass Is Always Greener…

, , , , , | Learning | April 18, 2019

(When my dad goes to get his PhD in Organic Chemistry, he originally applies to [University #1] but is rejected. He is disappointed, but he does get accepted to [University #2]. One of his professors has taken him around to a few different universities to talk about an experiment he helped with. Later, the professor is walking down a hallway with one of the people in charge of admissions for the chemistry department of [University #1].)

Admissions: “Wow! That guy was really good. You are lucky to have him. I wish we had someone like that in our program.”

(They continue in this manner for a while.)

Dad’s Professor: “You turned him down.”

Admissions: “…”

Scream If You Don’t Want To Go Faster

, , , , | Right | April 14, 2019

(I work at a call center that uses an online ticket system for open issues and assigns the tickets a priority level. Our “Tier 2” team then works the tickets based on the level of urgency: the high priority tickets are dealt with within a day, medium within two or three, and low priority about a week. Our company is a subsidiary of a well-known, multi-billion dollar corporation, and as such, they very much have the “customer is always right” attitude. To retain our sanity with horrible customers, we have developed a subtle way to “stick it” to them when they’re being obnoxiously rude: knocking their priority level down. The customer still ends up with a resolution, but not nearly as expeditiously as they would have if they had behaved civilly. One customer finally catches on after months of slow resolutions after being constantly verbally abusive.)

Caller: “I don’t understand why this s*** takes so long. I yell to light a fire under your a**es and it just takes longer than ever! Meanwhile, my friend, [Other Regular Caller], says when he calls his tickets seem to be processed right away! This is bulls***!”

Me: “Oh, you’re friends with [Regular]?! He’s such a sweetheart. He just called in this morning. He talked about how he was traveling in a few days to spend some time with his mom and he wanted to see if we could push his ticket through before he left. We really aren’t supposed to, but it’s so hard to say no to someone so nice!”

Caller: “SEE?! How come he gets priority and you lazy f*****s all drag my s*** out?”

(Suddenly, the line goes quiet.)

Caller: *clearly coming to an epiphany* “Ah. I think I get it. I’m an a**hole. [Regular] is nice. You guys do nice things for nice people. Well, ain’t that some s***! I’ve been going about this the wrong way!”

(He did a quick 180 and started being one of our nicest callers, even though we knew it was just to get “expedited service” — which wasn’t really expedited; it was just not knocked down — but we didn’t even mind. We were just happy to have one less screamer!)

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