Tat For Brat

, , , , | Right | July 27, 2018

(Like most French tattoo parlours, we work only with appointments. A lot of customers want to get tattoos right here, right now, so we decide to have one “walk-in” day per week, on Tuesdays. Most customers perfectly get the idea, and everyone is happy about this. It is a Friday. A regular’s daughter, age nineteen, comes in.)

Customer: “Hi, I want to get a small tattoo. A small bow, on the ankle.”

Me: “Great! I’ll do it for [price]. Do you want to get an appointment, or do you prefer to do this next Tuesday?”

Customer: *seems confused* “I want to do it now!”

Me: “But we can’t do it now. We work only on appointments every day but Tuesday. That’s why your parents and you usually come here on Tuesdays, right?”

Customer: *looks dumbfounded, pouts like a baby, wide-eyed, and says with a baby tone* “But… I want it NOOOOW.”

Me: *confused* “But, [Customer], I can’t do it now. I have a customer right here waiting for me. We work only on appointments, every day but Tuesday.”

Customer: *not kidding at all, now leaning her head as if it would change my mind, saying in a desperate tone* “But… I wanted it… I wanted it TODAY!”

(She looks like she’s about to cry.)

Me: “I’m very sorry, but I really can’t. I’m planned all day, today and tomorrow. You can come back on Tuesday if you want.”

Customer: *leaving, mumbling* “That sucks. This place sucks. I wanted it. That’s not fair. I want it. I want it.”

Coworker: “What was that? Did she think that puppy eyes magically cancel your other appointments?”

(I was told the next week she eventually got her tattoo, in a famous tourist walk-in shop, for three times the price I asked. Some people can’t wait, I guess.)

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Cut In Line And I’ll Cut You Down

, , , , | Friendly | July 18, 2018

(I am waiting in line at the supermarket with my husband and my bad shoulder is a bit painful. I have arthritis and when it’s acting up, I am not very comfortable in crowded spaces because people tend to bump into me and the pain will get worse. There are about five other people in line before us. The woman behind me keeps bumping into me and pushing me. I think it is accidental at first. I tell her to be careful, and that because of my arthritis in my shoulder, it is really painful.)

Woman: “I really don’t care! It’s not my problem!’

(Less than a minute later, she pushes again, but much harder. I move to the side, holding my shoulder in pain, and by the time I turn to her, she has already taken my place in line.)

Me: “What do you think you’re doing? You know pushing me out of the way won’t get you to the cashier faster.”

(She looks at me for a second and turns her head back to ignore me. My husband, who is still in line in front of her, has turned around and is glaring at her. She is trying to ignore him at first, but when she realises that it is not working, she tells him that I was the one trying to cut in front of her! He just laughs it off and keeps staring at her. She starts to look offended. I step next to her and tap on her shoulder to get her attention.)

Woman: “What do you want?”

Me: “I told you that pushing me was not going to get you to the cashier faster!”

(She is not moving and even has an irate look on her face.)

Me: “He’s my husband! Go back to your place!”

(The woman turned bright red and stepped back in line behind me. I heard a few people laugh, and noticed they were all looking at her. I was in a lot of pain, but after putting someone back in their place like that, I had a smirk on my face!)

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A Sickening Amount Of World Music

, , , | Working | July 11, 2018

(I work in a supermarket. On the 21st of June, I get a call from my store manager.)

Store Manager: “Can you replace [Coworker #2] tomorrow morning?”

Me: “She called to say that she will be absent?”

Store Manager: “No, but it’s World Music Day tonight, and she is always absent the day after, and always with a doctor’s certificate.”

(She called in on the 22nd of June.)

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A Lack Of Blood To Their Brain

, , , | Healthy | July 10, 2018

(I am a regular blood donator, something like ten times already in around five years, but I haven’t donated my platelets for almost a year due to a lack of time. I regularly get vocal messages from the Blood Donation Center asking me if I would agree to a new donation. This time, I call them back, around 20 minutes after the original call. I moved to [City #1], and the Blood Donation Center here does not have the proper equipment to perform platelet donation, so I am required to go back to [City #2] to do it, which I can only do during weekends.)

Me: “Hello, you just called me for a platelet donation. I would like to schedule an appointment, but I can only come to [City #2] during weekends as I’m living in [City #1], and I know I can’t do this at the local blood donation center.”

Lady: “Oh, yeah, please let me check.”

(She puts me on hold for around three minutes, which is rather unusual. I’m a bit busy, so it gets on my nerves, but hey, it’s supporting a good cause.)

Lady: “Well, [City #1]’s center never had the proper equipment for platelet donation.”

Me: “Yes, I know. That’s why I want an appointment in [City #2], on a weekend.”

Lady: “Well, okay. I have something on [date two weeks later] at 10:00 or 10:30; is that okay for you?”

Me: “Yeah, 10:30 would be perfect.”

Lady: “So 10:00.”

Me: “No, 10:30.”

Lady: “Okay. May I have your name?”

Me: “It’s [My Name].”

Lady: “I can’t find you. You’re not in the registry. You never donated your platelets, did you?”

Me: “Well, how could you call me, and leave me a vocal message asking me to come back to donate platelets, if I’m not in your registry?”

Lady: “I can’t find you. You’re not in the registry. If you had ever donated blood or platelets, you would be in the registry.”

Me: “You see, that’s also why I almost never call back.”

(I called back the next day, got another lady on the phone, and surprisingly — not really — got an appointment booked, as she very easily found me in the registry.)

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Didn’t Make The French Connection

, , , | Right | July 9, 2018

(I am almost done with my Masters Degree to become a French-as-Foreign-Language teacher. I have an internship in an official test center that hosts government-recognized language exam sessions. In France, the law requires that foreigners applying for some jobs, such as doctors or journalists, have to prove that they know French, as well. While most of the candidates are foreign students that need that certification to study in France, even if the actual applying person comes from a native French-speaking place, as much as we hate it they need to have one of these certifications to apply to these jobs. Most of them just shrug it off once they figure out the exam will be easy, as they are French natives, but some feel offended that they are forced to come to our place to be tested on their knowledge of their own language.)

Man: “Hey. Do I need to register here for the paper thing?”

Me: “Sure, do you have any ID? It doesn’t need to be a passport; any ID of any country is accepted.”

Man: *gives Moroccan ID*

Me: “Thank you. Now I’ll just need you to fill that registration form, and either cash or a bank check to [Treasury]. The next exam session is on [date]; be sure to be available for that session, because you can’t get a refund if you don’t show up unless you cancel it 24 hours before it starts.”

(I hand him the registration form while I go to make a copy of his ID. He starts filling out the form.)

Man: “It asks for ‘native language.’ What does that mean?”

(Hearing how fluent that man is, I am surprised by the question.)

Me: “That’s your mother tongue.”

Man: *slams hands on desk* “Dude. I’ve spoken French since I was three.”

Me: “Okay?”

Man: “Even if I grew up in Morocco, French is the only language I’ve known! WHY DOES IT ASK FOR ‘NATIVE LANGUAGE’?!”

Me: “Because the Ministry of Education registers what the mother tongue of each of our candidates is. What’s the problem with that?”


Me: “Then… write down ‘French’?”

Man: “Huh?”

Me: “Just like other candidates from eastern Canada, Togo, south Belgium, Senegal, western Switzerland, Cameroon, Ivory Coast, and others. While they don’t have French nationality and might have an accent different from ours, their mother tongue is still French when they come here.”

Man: “…”

(I’m not sure if the man had a bad day, just didn’t figure out he could write “French,” or if he just wanted to hide his mother tongue, thinking it’d increase his chances for success. He went silent filling the rest of the form, and grumbled while writing the check, saying he shouldn’t have to pay for that, and left. I do agree the situation is unfair, as the exam remains to be a waste of time for them. Two weeks later, he didn’t show up for the exam session, despite my warning that he could only get a refund if he called before the exam took place, and I never heard of him ever again.)

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