I’m working in the perfume section of a department store. A lost-looking gentleman approaches me.

Customer: “I’m here to get a fragrance for my son.”

Me: “How lovely! What is it called? I’ll be happy to find that for you.”

Customer: “Sausage.”

Me: “…pardon me?”

Customer: “It’s called Sausage. I’ve been told it’s quite popular.”

Me: “I… I don’t think we have that fragrance.”

Customer: “My wife told me that you did! She even wrote it down for me!”

He hands me a crumpled-up piece of paper with some writing scribbled down on it. The handwriting is awful, but I think I can make out what is written there.

Me: “Sir, I believe that word is ‘Sauvage.”

Customer: “No, no, I’m pretty sure it’s Sausage.”

Me: “Sir, unless your son wants to go out with his friends smelling like a sausage, I’m pretty sure it’s ‘Sauvage.’”

Customer: “…you might be right.”

He bought the cologne, and it didn’t smell like sausages.

Related:
Never Sausage A Thing Before, Part 4
Never Sausage A Thing Before, Part 3
Never Sausage A Thing Before, Part 2
Never Sausage A Thing Before

I work in a big department store as a receiving associate. We get large box trucks full of items, and almost none of them are on pallets, mostly so they can stuff more items into the forty-foot trailer.

Typically, in this store, we have one person loading items on a conveyor belt, one person shoving items down to the end, and four or five people unloading and sorting.

I have this one coworker, who is… lazy. I mean, I’m lazy, too, but I take shortcuts wherever I can. He hides in the racks and plays with his phone while the rest of us work.

One fine, fine day, the store manager pops through and watches us sluggishly make our way through the items for a bit and moves on.

The lazy coworker decides now’s the best time to go use the restroom. The boss came through and saw him working, so he should be safe from another surprise inspection, right?

I step in, directing my coworkers on how to best fill in the slack that was just left, and we keep going. People still need their knickknacks and geegaws, yeah?

Thirty minutes later, the manager comes back through and watches us for a few minutes.

Manager: “Hey, things picked up in pace back here. Good job!”

Me: “Thanks, but no time to chat. We’re behind.”

Manager: “Where’s [Lazy Coworker]?”

Me: “I think he went to the bathroom. Haven’t seen him in twenty minutes.”

Manager: “Yeah? Hm. All right, then.”

He walks off and I think nothing of it. We wrap up the unloading and go to lunch, and as we gather around for the briefing of what we’re doing for the rest of the shift, I notice that [Lazy Coworker] isn’t there. In fact, he never comes back!

Instead, the manager is there.

Manager: “You may notice that [Lazy Coworker] is absent. He no longer works for the company.”

Me: “Might I ask why?”

[Manager] hits me with the smuggest smirk.

Manager: “I can’t talk about that. Just know we’re going our separate ways.”

I work the collections desk at our store. Customers order items online and collect them from me. A man comes up to me with a collection slip for a pricey TV.

Me: “Thank you, sir, and can I see some ID, Mister… Wong?”

The inflection at the end is because as I read the name, I realize my customer is very much Caucasian. I try not to racially stereotype a name, but this makes me all the more sure I need to ask for ID.

Customer: “I don’t have ID. Just get my TV!”

Me: “Sir, we need to see ID to ensure that you are the collection slip holder: Mister… Wong.”

Customer: “Yes, that’s me! This is my slip!”

Me: “Sir, there is also a cellphone number on the system registered with this online order. Do you mind if I call it?”

Customer: “My phone is in the car! Just get me my TV!”

Me: “I’m afraid I won’t be able to do that, sir. Please come back with some ID.”

The customer swears and storms off. I call the number on the system.

Me: “Hello, can I speak to Mr. Wong, please?”

Mr. Wong: “Yes, speaking.”

Straight away, I can hear this is a different man. He has an English accent.

Me: “This is [My Name] from [Department Store]. You have a TV to pick up from us?”

Mr. Wong: “That’s right! I’ve been so busy, but I can come and pick it up tonight if that’s okay?”

Me: “That’s fine, sir, but I have to ask, do you have your collection receipt with you?”

Mr. Wong: “I left it on my receipt bowl. It should be… Hmm… It’s not here.”

Me: “Sir, I have to tell you that someone just tried to claim your item from us. We had to reject the collection as they had no ID.”

Mr. Wong: “Tall guy, ginger? Maybe wearing blue overalls?”

Me: “Yes to the first two.”

Mr. Wong: “I had the plumbers in this morning; he was one of them. They did the job and left their business card, but it looks like they traded it with my collection slip.”

Me: “I… see.”

Mr. Wong: “I’ll come and collect the TV tonight. But first I need to call the police. Your name was [My Name], yes? Thank you.”

He does indeed come and collect the TV that night. He tells me the police were called, and the guy was arrested; he still had the collection slip on him.

Mr. Wong: “It’s ironic. We got this as a second TV because my wife loves certain shows, and I hate them.”

Me: “Why is that ironic?”

Mr. Wong: “They’re all crime dramas!”

I used to work as a supervisor at a department store in England before I got my current office-based job. It was a good move for me, and there were no hard feelings when I left; we even had a great leaving party, which is what makes this so bizarre.

I go back to the store occasionally to window shop and catch up with my old colleagues. This takes place eight months after I leave.

I’m talking with two of my former colleagues about random life things when a third comes up to us.

Coworker #3: “Hey, [My Name], haven’t seen you in ages! How’s things?”

Me: “Good, thanks! Been reading a few books lately.”

Coworker #3: “That’s nice. So, are you on holiday this week?”

Me: “No, why?”

Coworker #3: “Oh, day off? I feel like we haven’t worked together for months!”

[Coworker #1] and [Coworker #2] laugh.

Coworker #1: “I know, right?”

Coworker #3: “So, will you be giving out sales targets tomorrow, then?”

I realise she isn’t joking

Me: “I… got a new job?”

Coworker #3: “Oh, really? When are you going?”

Me: *Pauses* “Eight months ago.”

Coworker #3: “Really?”

Coworker #2: “You went to her leaving party!”

At that point, I just backed away and went to find some other people to talk to. But really, did I make so little impact that this colleague didn’t notice I was gone for eight months? Or was she really unobservant?

Related:
Mister Cellophane, The Early Years

I went into a large department store on the day after Christmas. They had advertised some good sales on items I needed. I arrived there about an hour after the store opened, so I was afraid the store would be crowded. However, I was about the only customer there!

I made my purchase and asked the clerk about the quiet store.

Me: “Where is everybody?” 

Clerk: “I guess everything fit this year!”