Counting On Each Other

| Right | September 4, 2013

(I am the customer at one register checking out. There is another customer at the other register, who is accompanied by her four-year-old daughter. The daughter is bouncing all over the place, looking at toys and candy while her mother’s purchases are being bagged.)

Little Girl: “Mommy! Mommy! Can we get this for the new house?”

(The little girl holds up a miniature basketball hoop and ball.)

Mother: “No, sweetie. We don’t need it.”

Little Girl: “Okay!”

(The little girl continues rummaging through the nearby racks avidly. The cashier hands the mother her receipt.)

Mother: “Come on, [name]; time to go!”

(The little girl half turns to look at her mother, clearly still engrossed in the toys.)

Little Girl: “I need a count of four.”

Mother: “One… two…”

Little Girl: “Okay! Coming!”

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A Shiny New Hat

| Working | July 15, 2013

(I am a fairly big geek, and my job knows it. One night, just a few minutes before we close, a customer comes in and asks for help in the yarn section; my manager decides to help him.)

Manager: *over the walkie* “[My name], have someone else watch the register; I need you to come back here.”

(I head on back.)

Manager: “This customer wants to make a certain hat. He says that they need specific colors, but we’re not sure which ones we need.”

(I don’t want to assume what the project is, but I have a suspicion I know what the customer wants to make.)

Me: *to the customer* “What colors do you need?”

Customer: “A gold, and rusty color, and I think like an orange one.”

Me: *grinning because I assumed right* “For Jayne’s hat, I would suggest or loops and threads brand colors. I can take you to them.”

(The customer’s eyes light up when I mention Jayne, and follows me to where the yarn is. He purchases it and I give him some links to online sites for tutorials on how to make the hat. He leaves with a big thank you to me and my manager.)

Manager: “I knew you would know what he wanted to make! It’s great we finally have a geek working here.”

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Lack Of Register Does Not Register

| Right | July 3, 2013

(We’ve been having some problems with one of our registers. It is the first one you see when entering the store, and is often assumed to be the one to use. Today, it has been taken apart, and is being worked on by one of my managers. Parts are all across the counter, and several signs are post staying the register is out of order.)

Me: “You know, I will laugh if a customer comes up and starts unloading their stuff, expecting you to check them out.”

Manager: “The register is taken apart, the screen is off, and there are three signs saying this is out of order. I doubt anyone will be that stupid.”

(A customer walks up literally right after my manager says that, and starts unloading and pushing parts out of the way.)

Customer: “Why is this counter so cluttered!?”

Manager: “Ma’am, this register is closed; we’re doing maintenance on it.”

Customer: “Don’t be lazy!” *continues unloading*

Manager: “Ma’am, please go to the other check-out. [My name] will be happy to help you.”

Customer: “No! I came to this one, and YOU WILL help me!”

Manager: “Once again, ma’am, this register is under maintenance. I can not check you out.”

Customer: “Lazy ungrateful brat! Get your manager!”

Manager: “I am the manager on duty. One more outburst like that, and I will have you leave the store.”

(The customer mumbles something, and storms out, leaving her items behind. My manager turns to me.)

Manager: “Alright, you can laugh.”

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Immaculate Misconception, Part 6

| Working | June 20, 2013

(I am 16 and a virgin. I’ve caught a nasty virus that has forced me to miss a week of work. When, I return to work, I speak to my supervisor.)

Supervisor: “You missed an important meeting, you know. You better have been dying.”

Me: “Um, sorry. I don’t know if I was dying, but I couldn’t stand up.”

Coworker #1: “Are you pregnant?”

Me: “…What? No.”

Coworker #1: “If you been puking for a week, you’re probably pregnant.”

Me: “It wasn’t really about puking. It was about the high fever and dizziness.”

Coworker #1: “But you’re probably pregnant.”

Me: “No, I’m really not. Unless I’m giving birth to the next Christ child.”

Coworker #1: *snorts* “Yeah, sure. More like the Antichrist.” *walks away*

Me: “Did you hear what she just said to me?”

Supervisor: “If you’re pregnant, that really wasn’t a good enough reason to miss work.”

Me: “Like I tried to make clear, I’m a virgin.”

Supervisor: “Sure you are…”

(After my supervisor walks away, another coworker, Coworker #2, speaks up.)

Coworker #2: “Don’t worry. They’ll be sorry when you give birth to the son of God. Your kid would smite people who talked to you like that, right?”

 

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Give Me A Break Or You’ll Break The Law

| Working | May 30, 2013

(This happens in the third week of my first job. I’ve been working more than 7 hours straight without being told I can go to lunch. It’s been so busy that I barely noticed how late it was until I start getting dizzy.)

Me: “Uh, hey [supervisor], I didn’t get lunch. My shift is over in about forty minutes, can I just clock out and leave in ten?”

Supervisor: “No, you can’t do that.”

Me: “Okay, but I’m required to have half hour off for lunch.”

Supervisor: “You can’t leave early! You have to take your lunch in the break room!”

(Note: I have often taken lunch in one of the fast-food places across the street, as have all my other supervisors and managers.)

Me: “Um, okay. So, should I count my drawer down?”

Supervisor: “No, you aren’t leaving early.”

Me: “Okie dokie. So, hey, I’m going to take my lunch break now. The one I didn’t get earlier today.”

Supervisor: “That’s fine.”

Me: “Just so we’re clear, lunch break is thirty minutes. My shift is over in thirty minutes.”

Supervisor: *sighs* “Just go to the break room and eat your lunch.”

(I clock out and run across the street to get food to go. I’m sitting in the break room eating when everyone comes back to clock out for the day.)

Manager: “You know, [supervisor] had to count your drawer.”

Me: “I offered to count it before I went on lunch.”

Manager: “Why are you taking your lunch so late?”

Me: “I didn’t realize how long I had been here, so I had to take lunch at the end of my shift to comply with the law.”

Manager: “Well why didn’t you just count your drawer down and leave early? It would have worked out the same.”

Me: “I… tried to—”

Supervisor: “I can’t just let people leave early!”

Manager: “Wait, did you make her sit back here until the end of the shift?”

Supervisor: “Of course!”

Manager: “Did you not realize she had actually worked her entire shift? Without a lunch break?”

Supervisor: “She didn’t! She’s just lazy and wanted to leave early! She always refuses to help us close!”

Manager: *facepalm* “[My name], go home.”

Supervisor: “You better clock back in from lunch before you clock out for the day!”

Me: “Whatever you say…”

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