YOU WILL CAFFEINATE AND YOU WILL LIKE IT

, , , , , | Working | September 29, 2020

I’m studying abroad and don’t speak Estonian. I’m in a grocery store that I go to a lot, and I grab a pastry from the bakery. I’ve done this probably about twenty times since moving into my dorm. I put the pastry in a bag and then take it to the cashier, putting the pastry on the belt. When the cashier grabs the item, she begins to yell at me in Estonian and it throws me off guard. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong and I can’t understand her.

Me: “I’m sorry? I don’t speak Estonian.”

She then proceeds to yell at the people behind me, who look confused and shake their heads. I’m really nervous at this point. What have I done wrong? She gets about three people down before she gets to a young woman, who walks over to me and looks confused. She listens to the cashiers yell for a minute and then turns to me.

Woman: “She was asking all those people if they speak English. She wants you to get a coffee; it comes free with the pastry.”

Me: “I don’t want the coffee; I don’t drink it.”

Woman: “Okay, yeah.”

She then tried to calm down the cashier for what felt like a while and finally, the cashier stopped yelling and took my money. I appreciate her trying to help me get a good value, but could she not do it in a way that made me feel like I was breaking a law or something?

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Have A Heart, Use Your Brain

, , , , | Healthy | August 17, 2020

This story was told by my neighbour. She is waiting at the hospital for an appointment with an orthopaedist. Her number is called, but before she can stand up and go to the correct office, another woman quickly runs in before her. Puzzled, my neighbour goes to the receptionist.

Neighbour: “Excuse me, could you please help me? I have an appointment with [Doctor], but another lady ran in when my number was called. I have been waiting for that appointment and I would hate to miss it.”

Receptionist:What? Please, come with me.”

She marches to the doctor’s office with my neighbour following her and opens the door to the office where the doctor is just starting with the woman who stormed in.

Receptionist: “Is your name Mrs. [Neighbour]? And was your number [number #1]?”

Woman: “No, my name is [Woman]. And my number is [number #2].”

Receptionist: *Looking puzzled* “[Number #2]? Isn’t that a number used in a different building? Cardiology?”

Woman: “Look, I found a parking spot closer to here and I’m in a hurry. Do I really have to go to a different building? Couldn’t this doctor look at me now?”

Orthopaedist: “Given that my office is not equipped for diagnosing heart issues, it would be useless. Please leave.”

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It’s Not Just Americans Who Don’t Know Anything

, , , , | Learning | June 11, 2020

I’m studying abroad and am at the first orientation for international students. Our first session had everyone together, but we are told to go to two different rooms based on if we are from a country in the EU.

I get out of my seat to leave when the guy next to me — a stranger — gives me a hopeless look.

Stranger: “I don’t know where to go.”

Me: “No problem. You go to room one if you are from the EU and room two if you’re not.”

The stranger gives me a blank stare.

Me: “The EU?”

Stranger: “…”

Me: “European Union? A blue flag with stars?”

Stranger: “…”

Me: “Never mind. Where are you from?”

Stranger: “Turkey.”

Me: “Cool, follow me.”

I thought it was an English thing, but I got to know him, and nope, he genuinely didn’t know if Turkey was in the EU or not.

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The Weight Of The Wait Is Imaginary

, , | Right | May 17, 2020

I work at a theme park and I’m on the clock at the most popular ride we have. It was meant as a training device originally, so only one person can use it. There’s a queue of about three and there are labels everywhere stating that everyone gets five minutes on the ride. The current kid is on her second minute when a mom walks up to me.

Mother: “Does everyone really have five minutes?”

Me: “Yes, they do.”

Mother: “Can you let us go before everyone else?”

Me: “No, unfortunately, I can’t. You have to wait in the line.”

Mother: “But my son has been waiting for half an hour! He can’t wait and is crying!”

They showed up ten minutes ago, max. I look at the child; he’s around ten and calmly doing God knows what on his smartphone, slouched on the nearest sofa available for waiting. No tears visible.

Me: “Still no.”

The mother leaves for a few minutes. She goes to our shift manager and asks her the same thing. The manager has been here for the past eight years and does not like idiot customers She also says no. The mom eventually returns.

Mother: “But can’t you reduce everyone else’s time before us? Give them less than five minutes!”

Me: “Not happening, no. One last time: you need to wait for your turn.”

Eventually, the kid’s turn came around. He was stiff as a rock and clearly not enjoying the ride. He didn’t follow any of my suggestions and could definitely have had more fun if he’d loosened up. I think I know why the mum wanted extra time.

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Banana-Drama, Part 10

, , , | Right | November 13, 2019

(I am putting out the most beautiful, bright yellow, spotless bananas I have ever seen. A man in his thirties approaches:)

Customer: “Do you have any greener bananas?”

Me: “Greener?”

Customer: “Well, yes. These bananas are too ripe. I like them greener so I can buy them a few days in advance.”

Me: “Sorry, no. I have put out everything we have in stock. Maybe we’ll get some greener ones tomorrow.”

Customer: *almost cutting me off* “WELL, TELL THE PERSON ORDERING TO GET SOME GREENER BANANAS! EVERYWHERE I GO, THEY HAVE GREENER BANANAS, BUT NOT YOU!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but there’s really nothing I can do. I put out the merchandise sent; we can only specify the quantities.”

Customer: “THEN I’LL TALK TO THE OWNER OF THIS STORE CHAIN!”

Me: “You go do that.”

Customer: “I WILL!” *walks off angrily*

(I was jokingly mocked about too ripe bananas for the better half of two weeks by coworkers. It has been one of the weirdest complaints to be filed against our store.)

Related:
Banana-Drama, Part 9
Banana-Drama, Part 8
Banana-Drama, Part 7

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