They Don’t Smell A Rat… Until You Tell Them

, , , , | Friendly | June 23, 2017

(I keep fancy rats as pets. Occasionally I’ll take them out for walks riding on my shoulder (with leash and harness). They are very friendly and inquisitive and would never bite, but unfortunately conversations like these happen often.)

Stranger: “Awww, what’s that on your shoulder?” *pets rat, who is licking their hand*

Me: “This is [Rat]. She’s very friendly!”

Stranger: “Awwww, what a cute name! I really love hamsters! They’re so sweet!”*keep in mind they’re still petting her*

Me: “Actually, she’s a rat.”

(The reaction is immediate. They leap back in shock, staring at me and my rat like I just killed a child, and then look at their hand.)

Stranger: “Oh, my God, how could you?! That’s disgusting! It could kill you! Get rid of it!”

(Yes, even though they were just stroking her and singing the rat’s praises, as soon as they found out she was a rat they instantly hate her. Plus, during this whole conversation the rat’s tail was clearly visible. I don’t know how you could mistake her for a hamster…)

Bouncing Around The Club Tonight

, , , , , | Working | June 22, 2017

(The dance floors of this club are ringed with chairs and counters. I’m sitting out a couple of songs when I spot a bouncer whom I’m convinced has it in for me and is now staring at me. I shrug it off and look elsewhere. But seconds later, I feel him grab my shoulder. I turn to see what he wants and gently lift his hand off, but he grabs me again.)

Me: “Can I… help you?”

Bouncer: “Why are you sitting there?”

Me: “I was a bit tired, so I sat down for a while.”

Bouncer: “You need to go home.”

Me: “I’m not breaking any rules.”

Bouncer: “We can discuss this outside.”

Me: “Er… fine.”

(I follow him out.)

Bouncer: *to the doorman* “I caught him sleeping on the dance floor. He needs to go home.” *marches off*

Me: “What? No. I was just sitting down, because I was a bit tired.”

Doorman: “If you’re feeling tired, you need to go home.”

Me: “No, I mean… fatigued from dancing. I wasn’t sleeping; I don’t know why he got that impression. Look, I haven’t broken any rules and I’m not that drunk.”

Doorman: *considers* “All right. Go back in.”

(I go back in and order another drink (only my fourth) and sit down to drink it. The same bouncer comes my way.)

Bouncer: “I told you to go.”

Me: “The doorman let me back in.”

Bouncer: “But you’re sitting down again. If you’re tired you need to go home.”

Me: *gestures at 20 other people sitting round the dance floor* “Do you do this with everyone who sits down in here?”

(He went off to get another bouncer. By the time they got back, I’d finished my drink and got up to dance again, looking nicely energetic. I saw them next to where I was sitting with him gesturing my way and the other bouncer laughing at him.)

I Heart Math

, , , , | Learning | June 22, 2017

(Our teacher has written a question on the board and a fellow student is trying to answer it.)

Student: *finishes writing answer*

Teacher: “x<34?”

Student: “No, it’s lesser than four times—”

Teacher: “But you have put a three in there after less than.”

Student: “Isn’t that how you write it?”

Teacher: “No. Less than is just the arrow.”

Student: “That’s how I’ve always written it.”

Other Student: “Sir, less than 3 is a love heart in text language.”

Teacher: “Oh, I see. Please, no one do that in exams. I beg of you.”

Their Knowledge Of Steak Is In Need Of Beefing Up

, , , , , | Right | June 21, 2017

(I work at a fairly nice restaurant on the till/ordering counter. Customers have to open a tab and order at the counter. After that they can pay, order drinks and desserts, etc. from their tables.)

Customer: *orders a rib eye steak*

Me: “And how would you like that done sir?”

Customer: *said loudly with explosive breath* “BEEF.”

Me: *thinking he misunderstood what I had asked* “Sorry, I meant how would you like that cooked?”

Customer: *same inflection* “BEEF!”

Me: “Uh… yes, sir, all our steaks are beef. How do you like your steak? Rare, medium, well done?”

Customer: “BEEF!”

(This goes on for a couple of minutes, with me trying to find a way to ask the customer how he wants his steak done that he would comprehend. Our manager has a policy that every customer has to confirm what they want before we cook it and he takes pains to check we are doing it right. The manager comes out to see why no order has been put through on my till for a little while and he sees I’m having an issue. He grumpily sends me to the kitchen while he tries to deal with the customer. Five more minutes pass.)

Manager: “Yeah… he wanted a beef steak. Go have a break.”

Common Sense Not Included

, , , , , | Working | June 21, 2017

(I work in the souvenir shop at a museum. Aside from sales, our responsibility is to be knowledgeable of everything inside the museum, both exhibits and the products we are selling, which isn’t hard if you make the effort. Generally, everyone I work with is enthused by the museum theme and knows a lot about it but in the last year or so my line manager has been hiring people don’t know anything about what we do and don’t want to learn, which is pushing down targets and satisfaction. One day one of the recent hires and I are serving a group of people at the tills and I overhear the following exchange.)

Coworker: “Hi, how can I help?”

(Coworker begins ringing through the customer’s goods.)

Customer: “My daughter wants to know if she needs to buy batteries for this products or if they are included?”

Coworker: “I don’t know; I’ll just ask my colleague.”

(Coworker refuses to acknowledge large obvious ‘batteries not included’ signage.)

Coworker: *to Customer* “I’m so sorry, I’ve only been here three months!”

Customer: “What do you mean? You work in a toy shop don’t you?”

Me: *pointing to battery information signage* “[Coworker], it’s right here. Batteries not included.” *to Customer* “Did you want to by some batteries with this today?”

Customer: “Yes, please!”

(I hand batteries to my coworker; the transaction goes through and the customer departs.)

Coworker: *to me* “Wow, you’re really brainy. How do you know so much about products?!”

Me: “We’re supposed to. It’s our job.”

(This isn’t the only example. Another one of our coworkers who used to work with her has been working with us for over a year. When I supervise them I frequently get tales about management ‘being mean’ to them; not allowing them to have access to drinking water, for example. It turns out management caught both of them leaving open cups of drinking water right near electricity outlets, putting the whole workplace at risk, and they construed this as an attempt to deny them human rights. I shouldn’t have had to explain the risk to 30-somethings but not only did they not get it, they told me it was ridiculous.)

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