Could Not ‘State’ It Any Clearer

| Rose Lake, ID, USA | Friendly | August 25, 2016

(It is winter. I have newspaper route and while waiting for my papers, I run into a lady trying to get to a resort on the Idaho-Montana state line.)

Me: “Where are you trying to get to?”

Lady: “Lookout Pass.”

Me: “You need to go back eastbound to Montana about 50 miles.”

Lady: “I’m in Montana.”

Me: “No, you are in Rose Lake, Idaho.”

Lady: “No, I haven’t gone that far.”

Me: “Didn’t you see the ‘Welcome to Idaho’ sign? Or the Wallace, or Kellogg city signs?”

Lady: “No, there wasn’t any “Welcome to Idaho” sign and Wallace and Kellogg are in Montana.”

Me: “Do you know where you are now?”

Lady: “Yes, Rose Lake, Montana. Lady, you have no clue where you are nor do you have no clue on how to give directions.”

(At that point I just gave up and just left her.)

Your Money Is Gone In Sixty Seconds

| IA, USA | Right | August 18, 2016

(A customer steps up with some snack food at the checkout counter; I promptly ring it up.)

Me: “That will be [total].”

Customer: “Do you accept EBT?”

Me: “Yes, we do.”

(After completing the transaction, the customer then walks out and starts up his Mustang. Since he was at the end of a rush, I turn to my coworker at the other register.)

Me: “How can he even afford that thing if he’s poor enough for food stamps?”

Coworker: “It’s probably BECAUSE he’s on food stamps.”

Time To Kick Some Honey Bun

| Broward County, FL, USA | Romantic | August 13, 2016

(It’s 11 pm and I’m working with a new employee. I’m showing her how to check in the night delivery. The phone rings and she answers it.)

New Employee: “[Convenience Store], how can I help you?”

(She listens to what the person on the other line has to say, then she replies.)

New Employee: “Yes, we have honey buns… Yes, they are fresh… Yes, they are soft… No, sir, I’m not squeezing them!”

(She hangs up the phone immediately.)

Me: “Ugh, what happened?”

New Employee: “He was asking me questions about the honey buns and the conversation started getting gross.”

(The phone rings again. I answer it this time.)

Me: “This is [Convenience Store].”

Caller: “Hi! I’m calling to ask you about your honey buns.”

Me: “Okay…”

Caller: “Are they soft and warm?”

Me: “Soft and prepackaged.”

Caller: “Ooohhhh, sooo soft. Can you open one up and put your fingers in it and lick the honey bun while talking to me? I’ll pay you after for the honey bun with my credit card over the phone.”

(I’m extremely annoyed with this whole thing.)

Me: “Nope. Sure can’t. Stop calling here, freakazoid.”

(I hang up the phone and ten seconds later the phone rings again. I answer it and plan to put an end to this.)

Me: “[City] police dispatch.”

Caller: *in a very serious voice* “Hi, I…” *click*

(The new employee starts laughing.)

Me: “It works every time.”

(He never called again.)

Doesn’t Have Military Intelligence

| Honolulu, HI, USA | Working | August 12, 2016

(It’s later in the night and I decide to run to the nearby convenience store to grab a beer. As I get to the register I wrestle my military ID out of my wallet and hand it to the cashier. She looks at it a moment, then looks at me. I’m a 25 year-old female, only about 5’4″ and although my hair is shorter in the picture, it’s still recognizably me.)

Cashier: “I can’t accept this. It needs to be American government-issued ID.”

(I, as well as the two men behind me, am taken aback.)

Me: “It is government issued. It’s a military ID. My birthdate is on the back.”

(The cashier turns the card over, then hands the card back to me.)

Cashier: “No, it’s military; it needs to be government issued.”

Me: “It IS government issued. Look, UNITED STATES ARMED FORCES.”

(The two men behind me are offended just as much as I am. One of them is an older man; the other is younger, closer to my age. They come up to the counter and pull out their military IDs.)

Other Customer: “I served my country in Desert Storm and my son here just got back from Afghanistan. I don’t know what this young lady has been through but GOD D*** IT, she JUST WANTS A BEER!”

(By this time the shift manager, an older man, has heard the ruckus and has come out from the stockroom.)

Manager: “Is there a problem here?”

Cashier: “This young lady is trying to purchase alcohol with this ‘military issued ID.’ Should I call the cops?” *the cashier rolls her eyes and picks up the phone*

Manager: “No, this is military. It’s valid.” *looks at the cashier bewildered*

Cashier: “No, it’s military, not government issue.”

Manager: “Are you kidding me? Get out of here. Go stock the milkshake machine.”

(The manager shoo’d the cashier away and the three of us made our purchases without another word.)

Manager: “Thank you for your service… I’m so sorry…”

(The manager sighed as we left.)

His Heart Is All Plastic

| Quebec, QC, Canada | Working | August 8, 2016

(I am heading to a motorcycle driver’s ed class and I am parched. I enter a local convenience store I’ve never been to before that is two doors down from the driving class, in an exterior mall. I know I have no money on me, only plastic, but I do notice the credit cards stamps/stickers on the window shop and also notice the PIN pad on the counter when I get in. I grab a medium water bottle in the fridge at the back, open in up and take a big gulp, and head to the counter to pay for it. The clerk, who in hindsight I assume is the owner, scans it and declares my total.)

Me: “With Visa, please.”

Clerk: “You can’t. Cash or debit please.”

Me: “What? But you have credit card stickers on your window pane.”

Clerk: “Yes, but you’re not buying more than 10$.”

Me: “I didn’t see the warning. Where is it advertised?” *looking around for a sign*

Clerk: “I don’t have one.”

Me: “Then how was I supposed to know? Besides, I don’t have anything else.”

Clerk: “Tough luck. Go put your bottle back.”

Me: “But I already drank from it.”

Clerk: “Not my problem. You either buy more stuff or you pay cash. I won’t make any money on that bottle of water if you pay with a credit card.”

Me: “Wrong! It is clearly your problem. You are advertising credits cards on your window pane. I would have understood if your PIN pad was not working, but that’s not the case since the previous customer just paid with it. Just ring me up.”

(At this point there is a lot of back and forth about the fact I just want to pay for a bottle and him not having any of it. A small line is forming up.)

Clerk: “If you don’t pay I will call the police and—”

Me: “I AM PAYING! You’re refusing it the method you’re advertising you accept, and I don’t have any other way of paying you.”

Clerk: “You leave me no choice…”

Me: “Perfect, then. Call them. For your information I will attend a driver’s ed at [School] two doors down. Send the cops there; my name is [My Name].”

(The clerk/owner has a smug face of superiority as he sidestepped toward the back office to make the call. I take the opportunity to pull up my phone and take pictures of the counter to be a step ahead. I have gauged he is not an entirely stupid guy.)

Guy Behind Me: “What are you doing?”

Me: “The whole exchange feels like he was trying to extort me. I’m not taking any chances.”

Guy Behind Me: “So?”

Me: “I have a feeling he will print a d*** sign when I’m gone.”

(I left and the cops did show up during class. As we go back into the store and brand new 8.5×11 printed piece of paper stating the under 10$ appeared. I know vengeance is petty, but at that exact moment, it was the best feeling ever when the smug face disappeared as I showed the pictures to the cops. I promptly paid with my credit card in front of the cops and they stayed with the owner to have a chat with him. I have no clue if what he was doing was legal or not, but the cops clearly took my side with the disingenuousness of the clerk/owner.)

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