Pop Goes That Sale

, | Cassidy, BC, Canada | Right | April 25, 2017

(I work in a very small store with only three employees including myself. My boss comes in at the end of my shift to relieve me when a customer comes in. Keep in mind, he is a regular.)

Me: “Hey, how are you?”

Regular: *throws a twenty on the till* “I want two [Soda]s and the rest in gas for a jerry can.”

(Now, he’s not holding anything at the moment. He came in the door and walked straight up to the till.)

Me: “Umm, okay. What size are you buying?”

Regular: “The two liters, duh. Are they still on sale 2 for $4.00?”

Me: “Yep, they still are. So with the two [Soda]s, you will be getting $**** in gas. Does that sound good?”

Regular: “Yeah, whatever. What pump?”

Me: “Your gas will be on pump two. Have a good evening.”

(He then proceeds to walk RIGHT PAST the display of two liter [Soda]s, and out the door. The transaction took less than a minute since he first came in.)

Me: “Wait… what?” *I look at my boss, who’s been quietly standing behind me the whole time* “Did… did he just leave without the [Soda]?”

Boss: “Sure, did. Maybe he’ll come back in for them after he gets his gas. I sure as h*** am not chasing him down, though.”

(We wait, and sure enough he drives away without his two liters.)

Me: “How did he forget his [Soda]? He paid for them not even thirty seconds before walking by the stand?!”

Boss: “Oh, he does this all the time. Sometimes he comes back for them, but usually he’ll just buy more a few days later. I don’t even bother reminding him anymore. I figure anyone that stupid deserves to waste their money. Just watch; he’ll back tomorrow and won’t even mention the missing [Soda].”

(He does show up at shift change the next night. He buys some groceries, and leaves without a word about the Soda he had forgotten. My boss rings him through in silence, and laughs as he drives off.)

Boss: “I don’t know what drugs he’s on, but they must be REALLY good.”

Me: “Haha, no kidding.”

(It turned out this guy does this almost every week.)

Rolling It Over And Over Again

| Tullahoma, TN, USA | Working | April 9, 2017

(I had to run into the local convenience store to buy rolls for dinner. The only rolls available were frozen rolls, where you could buy 5 packages for $20. I bring them up to the cashier.)

Cashier: *tries to scan the barcode but it doesn’t work* “Um, they are 5 for $20, so, um…” *looks at her fingers trying to calculate* “Here, let me try typing the SKU in.”

(She tries, but it doesn’t work.)

Cashier: “Hmm. So… it’s 5 for $20…”

Me: *finally fed up* “Well, if it is 5 for $20, then one package is $4, isn’t it?”

Cashier: “Oh, is it?!”

The Sauce Of The Fire

| Wales, UK | Right | March 28, 2017

(I live and work in a fairly deprived area, which comes with all the usual associated problems.)

Customer: “Excuse me, do you sell cream sauces?”

Me: “Did you mean savoury, or ice cream?”

Customer: “What’s ‘sav… saver… savernee’?”

Me: “Um, like dinner instead of pudding?”

Customer: “Yeah, it’s that. I need it for chicken.” *waves a box of imitation [popular American southern-fried chicken] pieces at me*

Me: “Wouldn’t you prefer a bottle of ketchup or mayonnaise for those?”

Customer: “No! I need to make a cream sauce for the chicken for my girlfriend. It’s our anniversary and she said she’d dump me if I took her to [Popular Fast Food Chain] again!”

Me: “Well, there’s nicer places to eat out. If you really want to make something, though, you’d be better off buying whole unprocessed chicken chunks. Not many things apart from other southern US flavours would really go well with what you have picked out.”

Customer: “So how do these packet sauces work?”

Me: “Well, you can cook them with milk. Some people like to add a little cream once it is thickened, but there is really no need as the packets all have thickening agents in them.”

Customer: “But which one do I buy?”

Me: “We’ve got bread sauce, bèchamel, cheese sauce, creamy peppercorn, or parsley sauce.”

Customer: “I don’t like parsley.”

Me: “One of these plainer ones, then? Cheese might be nice if you wrap the chicken in bacon.”

Customer: “Maybe. What’s peppercorns?”

Me: “Um, they’re a type of dried fruit. People like to grind them.”

Customer: “But what IS it?”

Me: “You ever put salt AND pepper on chips?”

Customer: “Yeah.”

Me: “The not-salt half of salt and pepper.”

(We continued the conversation. The customer eventually made his selections and left. I was sure it was just coincidence when I saw a fire engine go past two hours later; turned out it wasn’t! His girlfriend came in the next day to say he’d tried to use orange juice for the cheese sauce mix as he had run out of milk, and then put the chicken breasts directly onto the oven shelf. Amazingly she is still with him but says she will be more than happy to go to Fast Food Chain next time!)

Really Needed That Energy Drink

| Kansas City, MO, USA | Right | March 10, 2017

(Working as a cashier at a gas station when a woman pulls up, hops out of her car, and runs inside. She is obviously in a hurry. I ring her up and she leaves, only to turn around and come back in.)

Customer: “Where is my car?”

Me: “I don’t know. Where did you leave it?”

Customer: “Right there.”

(She points out the window to the spot just outside the door where she had exited her vehicle just a few minutes before. I walk over, poke my head outside, and look around the lot.)

Me: “Is that it?”

(I pointed to the far end of the lot where her vehicle had smashed into a secondary building that housed the automated car wash. Apparently she was in such a hurry to buy her energy drink or whatever that she neglected to turn off the car. She also neglected to put the vehicle into park when she exited. The car wash was fine.)

Acting Your Age

| Australia | Working | March 10, 2017

(I am looking for a job around my town, armed with printouts of my CV doing an old school “door knock.” I’m not having much luck; however, most places have been nice and are kind enough to take my resumé in the hopes that “something may come up.” I’m down to my last resumé when I try the local newsagency. An older woman is behind the counter.)

Me: “Hi, I was wondering if—”

Worker: *rudely interrupting* “We’re not hiring and if you give us that resume I see in your hand it’s just going to go straight into the bin!”

Me: *a tad shocked, but hastily put on a smile* “Okay, thanks anyway!”

(I turn away to exit the shop thinking I probably dodged a bullet there anyway, when I hear her call me back.)

Worker: “Hang on! How old are you, by the way?”

(I smile, as I know exactly what she is doing. In my country, workers are paid a minimum wage not just by industry, but by age as well. A 15-year-old working in a newsagency, for example, would have to be paid at least $12-14 an hour under the retail award rate, but a 21-year-old would have to be paid at least $20-23 an hour. For this reason a lot of employers don’t like hiring older people, and often turn them away for their younger, much cheaper-to-hire counterparts. Despite this, it is still illegal to discriminate against age and it is illegal to ask any prospective employees their age or date of birth. I am in my early 20s, therefore “expensive” to hire, but I look much younger then my age, with people always thinking I’m in my mid teens. She probably thinks I’m only around 16-17 years old. It is perfectly acceptable to decline answering a question about age, as I do here.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable answering that.”

Worker: “Look, it’s ok to admit your age. I’m not going to judge. Just tell me, then I might be able to have a look at your resume and see if we have something.”

Me: “I’m not going to tell you my age. I don’t have to and I don’t want to. Thank you for maybe considering my resume if I’m a certain age, but I’m going to have to decline. Thanks again.”

(I go to leave, when I hear an angry outburst behind me.)

Worker: “FINE! I wouldn’t even want to accept some pathetic high school drop-out anyway! There’s too many of you in this god-**** town and the reason why is because all you teenagers are the same: f****** lazy little f***s!”

(Angry, I march up to the counter.)

Me: “First off, I’m in my early 20s. Secondly, I am no high school drop-out. I have been working since I was legally able to at 15 all while finishing school and probably far more capable then you are. For starters, I actually know how to treat people, including job-hunters that could also be customers in the store. I couldn’t care less if you offered me $100 dollars an hour for this job. I would hate to work alongside a vile co-worker such as yourself, and if you are the manager I have a lot more self-respect then to take orders from you. I think I’ve done the right thing to decline your offer. Now, thank you for time. You’ve shown me what kind of worker you are and should avoid. Have a nice day.”

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