Panic Buying Meets Panic Selling

, , , , , | Working | September 7, 2018

(I have anxiety and thus I have panic attacks. I do have tricks to try to prevent them, and the management at my workplace know about it. This day, for reasons unknown to me, my anxiety is high. Coupled with this, several customers accuse me of ripping them off because price changes were not made for some sale items. My break has been delayed a few hours, so as soon as I am told to go to break, I make a sprint for the break room to have a panic attack there.)

Manager: *comes in and sees me* “[My Name], are you okay?” *grabs tissues*

Me: “Anxiety bad. Customers upset.”

(With these short sentences, along with what she witnessed, the manager pieces it together. She stays until I calm down a bit.)

Manager: “Are you all right now?”

Me: “Uh-huh.”

Manager: “Good.” *she gets called on the radio* “I’ll be at the cutting counter if you need me.”

Me: “Okay.” *as she leaves, I realize something* “Before I forget, I got three email signups, one mailer, and one purchase with purchase sale.”

Manager: *befuddled, but marks this down on her clipboard* “Okay.” *mutters as she leaves* “No way am I letting her go if that’s what she can do when she’s near panicked.”

(The last comment made me laugh and helped me calm down enough to go back to work after my break.)

Adding Up To Extra Stupid

, , , , | Right | August 29, 2018

(The latest ad we have shows patterns at six for $15, or $2.50 each. I start to ring up patterns and the customer interrupts.)

Customer: “You’re charging me too much. You’re ringing them up at $2.50, and I’m buying six.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. $2.50 is the correct price.”

Customer: “But I bought six. I should get the sale price.”

Me: “$2.50 is the sale price.”

Customer: “But that makes them $18.00.”

Me: “No, ma’am, that makes them $15.00. If they were three dollars each, they would be $18.00.”

(The customer doesn’t believe me, even after I total the sale and it comes to $15.00 plus tax.)

Customer: “I’m sure that’s wrong.”

(Finally, I just start handing them a calculator so they can check, and I still hear, “That can’t be right.” Don’t know who at corporate thought up that promo, but whoever it was never worked at the actual store.)

Not All Compliments Are Just Fluff

, , , , | Right | August 10, 2018

(I’m a young woman with short hair that I wear spiked up. Today I’ve been helping a woman who is a beginner sewist with various questions. I’ve been showing her where the fabric she wants is in the store, helping her choose between sewing patterns, telling her young daughter where the bathrooms are, helping her figure out how much fabric she needs, and finally cutting her fabric.)

Me: “Will that be all for today, ma’am?”

Customer: “Yes, and now I know who to look for when I come in next: the lady with the fluffy chicken hair!”

(Best compliment I’ve ever gotten on the job.)

Walking A Tightrope Of Etiquette

, , | Right | July 23, 2018

(A few days before this exchange happens, I had a pretty bad fall whilst trying to walk on a tightrope, and as a result, I have a few nasty bruises on my arm. I also get dark circles under my eyes as soon as I’m the least bit tired, and don’t bother hiding them.)

Customer: *spotting the bruises on my arm* “Oh, dear, what did you do?”

Me: “I fell down in a trampoline park, but it looks worse than it is, don’t worry!”

Customer: “Ah, well, at a certain age you really get too old for such silliness…”

(I just turned 27.)

Me: “Well, I’m not that old… Besides, it wasn’t really the trampolines but the tightrope-walking that got me!”

Customer: “Yeah, that must have been some fall! I can see it on your face, as well!”

Me: “Umm… No, that’s what I always look like.”

(She didn’t even apologize; she just laughed. I still don’t get why people feel the need to comment on the appearance of strangers.)

The Only Kind Of “Straighteners” That Work

, , , , , | Working | July 13, 2018

(I have extremely curly hair, which is the thing most people notice and remember about me. I am also a closeted woman-loving-woman who has told only a couple people.)

Me: *putting away fabric with coworker* “Hey, [Coworker], I just realized something I can say.”

Coworker: “What?”

Me: *shoves a bolt of fabric away and grins* “My hair is straighter than I am.”

Coworker: *laughing* “Oh, my. Yes, it is. It most certainly is.”

Me: “Wait, I did tell you before—”

Coworker: “Yeah, you mentioned your girlfriend before.”

Me: “Okay, I forgot if I did.”

Coworker: “I’m just going to make sure that you stay far away from any hair straighteners now.”

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