Giving Them Something To Wine About

, , , , , | Working | August 20, 2018

(A day after attending a dinner party, I go into the liquor store to buy some wine that was served at the party. I did not actually drink the wine.)

Clerk: “Hi! Can I help you find anything?”

Me: “No, thanks. I’m just looking.”

(As the store is empty, the clerk seems bored. He follows me.)

Clerk: “Are you looking for a specific wine?”

Me: “Yes, but there’s no way you can help.”

Clerk: “Sure I can. Try me.”

Me: “I’m trying to find the wine my daughter-in-law served last night. I was told it was really good. I didn’t drink any and I didn’t see it poured, so I don’t know what it was called or even what kind of wine.”

Clerk: “Do you know the name?”

Me: “No, and I don’t know what kind it was. I never saw it poured.”

Clerk: “Was it red or white?”

Me: “As I said, I don’t know. I’m hoping I will recognize the bottle.”

Clerk: “I don’t think I can help you. What kind of wine do you like? I can recommend something.”

Me: “No, thanks. I just want to see if I can find this one.”

(The clerk wanders off, looking annoyed. I eventually recognize the bottle and grab some.)

Clerk: “Is this what you were looking for?”

Me: “Yes. I knew I would recognize the label even if I couldn’t describe it.”

Clerk: “Well, I could have found it for you if you would have told me it was [Brand] or even that it was Malbec. If you want help, you need to have some information to start.”

Me: “But I didn’t want help. I wanted to look.”

(He finished the rest of the transaction without commentary.)

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Not A Good Tempura-ture

, , , , , , , | Working | August 18, 2018

I ordered some food from a popular food delivery service. They gave me an ETA of 1:21 pm. By 1:45 pm I hadn’t received anything, so I messaged the company via the app requesting an update. They told me the driver had left and my food should arrive any minute. Still nothing at 2:00 pm, but the delivery service called me to check in. The rep said the restaurant was saying the driver delivered my food at 12:47 pm.

I told them no, that I’d been home and no one had knocked or rung the doorbell. The rep was adamant that my food had been delivered, so I checked my front porch. Sure enough, the driver had left my raw fish on my front porch in 80-degree weather!

Apparently, the driver swore he handed my food over to an actual person, but seeing as how I was home alone, that does not check out.

The restaurant demanded I return the food in order to get a refund. They clearly didn’t believe me, so I hope they saw how soggy my tempura was and how questionable the shrimp had become!

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I’m Glutenarian

, , , , , , | Working | August 17, 2018

(As someone with Celiac disease, I always have to mention my gluten allergy at restaurants. Most places have excellent training when it comes to allergens. I’m in an ice cream shop.)

Me: “Can I get a small cone? I also need it gluten-free for an allergy.”

Employee: “Sure, no problem. Would you like a waffle cone with that?”

Me: “No… I have a gluten allergy.”

Employee: “Oh, well, I don’t know the community.”

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Some Employees Have Faded Away

, , , , , | Working | August 16, 2018

(I receive a book for my birthday, and I’m really excited to read it, so I start right away. Unfortunately, about halfway through, I discover that something must have gone wrong with the printing press, as the ink starts to fade until it’s completely unreadable, and the last three quarters of the book are blank. Since it was purchased from a major chain bookshop, I take the book and my gift receipt to the closest location. I wait in line, and when it’s my turn, I am waited on by a man whose name tag indicates he’s a manager.)

Me: “I’d like to exchange this book, please. This one is defective, and I’d like to be able to finish reading it.”

Manager: *annoyed* “I can’t give you cash, only store credit.”

Me: “I don’t want a refund; I want to exchange the book so I can finish reading it.”

(He gives me a blank stare, so I open it and show him where the ink starts to fade out.)

Me: “See? I can’t read the last half of the book. I want to exchange it for a copy that isn’t like this.”

Manager: *still staring like he doesn’t believe me* “I can check and see if we have it in stock.”

Me: “Great, thank you.”

(He stands there staring at me for another moment like he thinks I’m going to change my mind. Finally, he radios someone and they bring the book up to the front. In the meantime, no other customers have come up, but he spends the whole time looking for someone else to wait on. When the other employee arrives with the new copy, the whole exchange process takes less than two minutes, since I have the defective copy and a gift receipt. The manager still seems extremely annoyed, and the employee looks just as confused as I am. She looks at the defective copy while the manager processes the exchange.)

Employee: “Oh, yeah, that’s terrible. You can’t possibly read this. We’ll have to damage it out.”

Manager: *sliding the new book across the counter at me so fast I barely catch it before it falls off* “There.”

(I open the book and flip through it really quickly to make sure it isn’t defective, too, and he looks offended.)

Me: *smiling as politely as I can* “Much better! Thank you so much.”

(The employee smiled and wished me happy reading, but the manager continued to look offended and stared at me all the way out the door. I still have no idea why he was so annoyed and confused about me wanting a copy of the same book that was actually readable.)

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Questioning The Validity Of His Professionalism

, , , , | Working | August 16, 2018

(This story takes place when we still use paper train tickets. My mother has gone shopping in the city and is taking the train back to our hometown. The ticket inspector, a young-looking guy, enters the train compartment.)

Inspector: *to my mother* “Ticket, please.”

Mother: *fishes her ticket out of her handbag* “Sure, here you go!”

Inspector: *takes it and inspects it* “Ma’am? This is not a valid ticket.”

Mother: “What?! Oh, sorry, I must have given you an old one. Just a minute, please.”

(My mother proceeds to dig further into her handbag, rummaging through receipts, but finds no ticket. She empties the bag’s contents onto her lap, but still no ticket.)

Inspector: *with a stern voice* “Do you even have a valid ticket, ma’am?”

Mother: *starting to panic at this point* “Oh, I am so sorry. I really bought one! I don’t know where I put it; maybe it fell out of my bag? Oh, no!”

(My mother is thinking, “I am going to get a fine! He probably hears excuses like this every day! What if he doesn’t believe me?”)

Inspector: “Maybe you put it in one of your shopping bags? Or in your wallet?”

(He keeps standing there while my mom goes rummaging through her shopping bags. Other passengers are looking and snickering while my mom still frantically searches for her ticket. Meanwhile, the train enters our hometown station.)

Mother: *desperately* “I can’t find it! And I have to get out at this station!”

(The inspector gives her a suspicious look, and then gives back the ticket he is still holding.)

Inspector: *smiles* “Just kidding. It was a valid ticket.” *walks away*

Mother: *speechless*

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