No Longer Free To Complain

, , , , , | Working | January 14, 2018

(I’ve pulled into a fast food drive-thru to buy a drink after a long day at work. There are only two cars ahead of me, but the way this restaurant is set up, the drive-thru is at the back of the restaurant along with the waiting car spots while the doors are around the front. The staff never park cars because they have to walk all the way around the restaurant to bring out the orders. They are also notoriously slow in putting orders together, so it’s about five minutes before the first car gets their order, and over five minutes more before the next car gets theirs. I usually don’t complain, but I’m already frustrated as yet again their shake machine has broken down, so I have to get a soda instead. By the time I get to the window I am ready to ask for a manager. The server has my drink in hand.)

Server: *before I can say anything* “You don’t need to pay.”

Me: “What?”

Server: “You don’t need to pay; it’s free.”

(There was no way I could complain after that.)

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The Rewards Program Is Not Its Own Reward

, , , , , | Working | January 12, 2018

(I am shopping with a friend. I notice a new employee at the register. While most employees at this store wear clothes with goth and/or metal aesthetics, she stands out; she is absolutely decked out with the store’s merchandise, and she has dyed a bright blue streak in her hair. Initially, I think little of it, and when I’m finished with my shopping, I go to her register to pay. Then…)

Employee: “Okay, and what is your email address?”

Me: “Why are you asking me for that information?”

Employee: *snottily* “Management says that everybody who shops here is joining our rewards program. Give me your email address.”

Me: “I have never heard of that policy before. What is my email address being used for?”

Employee: “Everybody who shops here is required to sign up for the rewards program to purchase. I am signing you up.”

Me: “No, thank you. You haven’t even explained what it is.”

Employee: “We will send you frequent promotional messages telling you what’s new at [Store]. You can also earn points with every purchase. It’s free money, and who doesn’t like that?”

Me: “No, thanks; I don’t want any emails from here. I want to pay for my stuff.” *pulls out wallet*

Employee: “I mean, I guess you could not join, if you really hate getting good deals and free money.”

Me: “I don’t want emails, thank you. Please let me pay.”

Employee: “But you’ve already earned points. I mean, there’s no need to be so wasteful.”

Me: “No, thank you. Here is my credit card.”

Employee: “If you don’t sign up for a rewards program, I’m giving them to the next customers. Those two guys behind you are going to steal your points.”

Me: “They can have them. Please let me buy my stuff.”

Employee: *glares as she slowly swipes my debit card on both sides* “Well, people have turned down joining the rewards program and regretted it before. Are you—”

Me: “I do not want to join your rewards program.”

Employee: “Ugh, fine.”

(I got my card and purchased stuff from her with no negative repercussions. She did indeed push the program on the two guys behind me; they obliged pretty quickly as she made passive-aggressive remarks about my intelligence. My friend reported similar behavior when she tried to pay later on, and even a few months later, when it turned out the employee not only managed to stick around but works most days and hours of the week. We have not returned since!)

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An Asymmetrical Service

, , , , , | Working | January 12, 2018

(I am walking out of a department store and I have to go through the cosmetic section. A salesperson notices me.)

Salesperson: “Oh. My. GOD! You are gorgeous!”

Me: “Oh, thank you. I’ve been told I have a very symmetrical face.”

Salesperson: “You do. It’s amazing! Well, almost, except for those freckles.”

Me: “Oh. Well, I actually like my freckles, so—”

Salesperson: “You shouldn’t; they’re horrible. It shows you don’t care about your skin.”

Me: “And you just lost your last chance to make a sale.” *walks away*

Salesperson: *shouting* “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t want to sell anything to such a dermatological nightmare!”

(Who would hire a someone who goes from “gorgeous” to “dermatological nightmare” in one conversation to sell cosmetics?!)

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The Smell Of Cakes And Pies Is Absolutely Everywhere

, , , , , , , , | Right | January 12, 2018

(A local pizza shop is known for their creative specialty pizzas, and normally have ten or so in a display case to be sold by the slice; because the selection is always changing, it’s common for customers to ask what any given pie is. On my walk to the shop today, it started to snow.)

Me: *walks up to the counter, pointing to a pie* “What’s this?”

Employee: *lists toppings*

Me: *pointing to a different pie* “What’s this?”

Employee: *lists toppings*

Me: *pointing out the window at the falling snow* “There’s white things in the air…”

(The employee looks at me strangely. The gears are turning, but the light bulb hasn’t quite come on yet.)

Me: *pointing to a third pizza* “What’s this?”

Employee: *lists toppings*

Me: “There’s pizza everywhere…” *points to one last pie* “What’s this?”

(At this point, the light bulb went on and the employee burst out laughing… realizing that while I’d gotten two of the lines reversed, I did indeed just run him through the first couple stanzas of “What’s This?” from “The Nightmare Before Christmas.”)

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Attitude Needs A Re-Tiling

, , , , | Working | January 8, 2018

(I’m looking for new tiles to fill the wall in my new kitchen. I have no idea what I want yet, so I go to a store that specialises in tiles. The clerk is a middle-aged woman, trying to sound cheerful.)

Clerk: “Can I help you?”

Me: “Oh, I’m just browsing for inspiration.”

Clerk: “If you need inspiration, you should go to Pinterest! They have a lot of lovely things on there, and you won’t need to leave the house!”

Me: “Eh, sure… but sometimes a person just wants to browse. If I went to Pinterest, I wouldn’t have seen these lovely tiles here.” *points at the tiles I actually like a lot*

Clerk: “All right, then, have it your way.”

(After that, the clerk went to a table, picked up a newspaper, and started reading it. She didn’t look up any more. Needless to say, I didn’t buy my tiles there. And I’m still looking.)

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