A woman has come in wanting something to ward off the creepy crawlies on her dog. We talk about what kind of creepy crawlies they are, and it transpires they are mites.

Me: “It definitely sounds like mites. This particular substance should help against them.” 

Customer: “I just see them flying and buzzing around my dog all the time.”

Me: “Mites don’t fly. They’re too heavy to fly, and they don’t have wings. Are you sure these aren’t fleas?”

Customer: “No, it’s mites. They definitely do fly around my dog.”

Me: “As I just explained, mites can’t fly.”

Customer: “Well, it’s just the forest life, isn’t it?”

Sadly, explaining to the customer that physics doesn’t work like that would’ve been considered somewhat rude.

I am working on the checkout and a customer approaches with a pre-packed bag of apples.

Customer: “Do you operate a try-before-you-buy policy in this store?”

Me: *Thinking he’s joking* “Sorry, sir, we don’t.”

Customer: “I don’t want them, then.”

He leaves the apples on the conveyor belt and walks out.

Me: “…”

Related:
Doesn’t End Up Liking Them Apples

I’m seen as the spreadsheets expert in the office, which isn’t saying much, as most in the office are useless with them. A colleague has asked me about something she wants to do, but before I can advise her, she runs off for a meeting. I decide to leave a note on her desk. A week later, she asks me to come over.

Colleague: “So, I found an answer to that problem. It’s called ‘Concatenate’.”

Me: “I know.”

Colleague: “And since you didn’t even try to help me, I’ve put in a complaint about your attitude. That’ll teach you to do your job.”

I point at the note that is literally in front of her, on her monitor.

Colleague: “…”

Me: “You were saying?”

She retracted the complaint, but not before making a fuss to my manager that I should have told her directly, and that I should be reprimanded for my attitude. My manager later told me that whenever I haven’t been able to help someone, she usually gets a complaint about it. However, since it has absolutely nothing to do with my actual responsibilities, she doesn’t see a reason to do anything.

She now forwards those complaints onto me, and I have to say I get quite a laugh out of them. My favourite so far is, “He never told me how to right-click. Hours wasted, millions lost.” It was about how to change the font to superscript, so he could give a face he was making mini cat ears.

I work in a specialist nursing home for people with severe and enduring mental health problems. A female resident with South East Asian origins enjoys cooking and offers to make traditional chai tea for staff, under supervision.

Whilst being assisted by a support worker whose English is not great, she adds more than fifty teaspoons of sugar to the pan, as well as spices and other ingredients.

Me: “This tea tastes really good!”

Those of us who don’t mind the sweetness enjoy it.

Then, the support worker tells a colleague about part of the cooking process.

Support Worker: “She just crushed the walnuts by crunching them in her mouth and then spitting them into the pan.”

She hadn’t realised that people would find this revolting!

We agreed that when she made it again, she needed to use appropriate equipment to do that task. Thankfully, the support worker saw the sense of this.

I was not too concerned about this, given how many motorway service stations I ate in during my childhood in the 1970s, where I probably ingested far worse!

Related:
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 7
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 6
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 5
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 4
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 3

I am at a hairdressers’ shop I don’t normally visit, because I’ve heard good things about it and I’ve decided I don’t mind its price tag. I’m introduced to my stylist and she asks what I want. I show her with the images I brought in.

That is as far as the conversation side goes with her. It’s not like she doesn’t partake in any small talk, she just doesn’t talk to me. During the wash station and cut, she chats to everyone but me. When I do talk, she either goes, “Uh-huh,” dismissively or flat-out ignores me in favour of talking to other clients and staff.

She has just finished my hair and I’m paying for the cut; I opt not to mention her ignoring me and just not leave a tip… until this happens.

Stylist: *Loudly* “What, no tip?”

This results in people looking over.

Me: *Just as loudly* “You ignored me for the entirety of the hour and a half I was in here and you want a tip? How about putting conversation with your client higher than conversation with other stylists’? After all, I’m the one who pays and tips you, not them.”

She went bright red, and I left.