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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At Least Two Things Wrong With That Exchange

, , | Right | November 4, 2019

(I work in a photo lab at a photo store. A woman comes up to me and asks me for a USB cord for her laptop. As I’m busy at the moment and there is a free — female — coworker, I ask the customer to turn to her.)

Customer: *looks at me with big eyes and gasps* “How does she know? She’s a woman!”

Me: *calmly* “So am I!”

(She looked at me for a moment and left quickly.)

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His Brain Needed More Fuel Than The Car Did

, , , , , | Legal | February 15, 2019

It was almost at the end of our shift when the dispatcher called out information that a driver had fuelled up his car at a petrol station, left the fuel nozzle on the ground — a clear indicator of a fuel thief — and driven off without paying.

Usually, fuel thieves use stolen license plates that frequently don’t even match the make of the car. Nevertheless, I ran the license plate. Surprisingly, everything matched. Even the registered owner’s address was nearby.

I told my partner the address, and although we both agreed that nobody would be stupid enough to go to their registered address after stealing in broad daylight, we still gave it a shot. When we were almost there, we saw the same car stopping in front of the house, with the owner in the driver’s seat. When he saw our police car, his eyes went wide and he froze. I could see that he honestly assumed that his plan of filling up and going home without an issue would be perfect.

We arrested him for theft, and he also had to pay for the fuel.

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