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To Be Fair, We Didn’t Know His Name, Either

, , , , , , | Working | December 3, 2021

Around the time I was around nineteen or twenty years old, I used to work in a small security job. We were basically a third-party company hired for different events such as concerts, festivals, soccer games, etc., AKA “Rent-A-Cops”. Despite being looked down on for being a younger female compared to the rest of my team, I was always placed at the entrances for the artists to check credentials because I was one of the few who would actually do my job and stop people from going where they were not supposed to go.

This includes the artists of the venue I’m working at, and I’ve had complaints — mostly from rappers or athletes — for not letting them on stage or having the audacity to stop them, period. This is mainly because I have anxiety and I would rather get in trouble for doing what I’m SUPPOSED to do rather than get in trouble for doing something I DIDN’T do. I also don’t keep up with WHO the artists are; I just listen to their music, and it’s not like the security company provides us with pictures to show us who certain people are. To be honest, they shouldn’t have to when credentials exist for a reason!

The main artist of the concert I’m working at has a band name dedicated to imagining a mythical beast. He usually comes in and out through my entrance surrounded by his personal security, and while I am a HUGE fan of the band, I’ve never seen the band’s music videos, so I’m not familiar with his appearance and I hardly see his face since he’s crowded by people.

At one point, one of his security managers walks in and out of the entrance I’m at like he’s looking for something before turning to me.

Manager: “Hey, have you seen [Name]?”

Me: “Um… I don’t know. The shorter guy in the green shirt?”

He gives me a very strange look.

Manager: “No… the tall guy in the red shirt.”

Me: “…”

Manager: “Super tall. Blonde? You know… [Name]!”

I just blink owlishly, trying to figure out why I should know who he’s talking about.

Manager: “THE SINGER?!”

Me: “Oh! Uh, no, he hasn’t been through here.”

He just stared at me for a second longer before leaving with a shake of his head. I, too, was pretty disappointed in myself for not even knowing the singer’s name.

This Toddler Is A Whole Mood

, , , , , , | Working | December 3, 2021

I am working at home while trying to manage my young children during the health crisis. I hear the doorbell ring and look through the peephole to see a salesman who has ignored the “No Soliciting” sign as well as our local Stay At Home orders. He sees movement and begins to knock as well as ring the doorbell. I sigh and begin to look for a mask when my three-year-old, already masked, opens the door by himself.

Three-Year-Old: “Are you Amazon?”

Salesman: “No.”

My three-year-old slammed the door, and the salesman walked away!

We Don’t Even Want To Know What They Were Up To

, , , | Right | December 2, 2021

I work in a pharmacy. To pick up certain medications, you have to show a government-issued ID. A gentleman shows me an ID that is obviously fake. His picture is squished from top to bottom as though he just tried to resize it to fit it in the space, and the ID has no security hologram or anything else that we check for.

Me: “Sorry, sir, I can’t accept this.”

Customer: *Immediately on edge.* “Why not?”

I try to be diplomatic and not say that I know it is a fake ID.

Me: “It’s not a valid ID.”

He tries to convince me for five minutes. Eventually, I ask:

Me: “Is there anyone with you who does have a valid ID?”

He brings over his wife and explains the situation.

Wife: “Oh, no problem.”

And she pulls out a binder with card-sorting plastic pages (like for baseball cards) with pages and pages of equally bad fake IDs for the man, each with that same squashed picture. She probably has one for every state. She starts to pull one out to show me.

Me: “Uh, that’s okay. None of those will work, either. And it’s none of my business, but don’t ever show one of those if the cops pull you over.”

They Shopped Long Enough To Become The Villain

, , , , | Right | November 30, 2021

My store doesn’t have a designated clearance section but rather has clearance items everywhere which are identified by the Sharpie slashes through the barcodes. A green slash means something is 25% off, a red slash means 50% off (or, very occasionally, more).

There are signs all over the store to explain this, but of course, people don’t read them closely, so we at the registers then have to explain that no, a customer did not find their item “in the clearance aisle” and no, it’s not on sale. Sometimes people shrug it off, and sometimes they yell at us about “misleading signs.” But then there is this memorable couple

The husband puts two pieces of wall art on my counter.

Husband: “We found these in the clearance aisle. Can you tell us how much they’ve been marked down?”

Me: *Bracing myself* “We don’t actually have a clearance aisle. These are regular price; there are clearance items all over the store, but they’re marked as such.”

Wife: “Wait, is that what the sign said?”

Me: “Yes. You can see one of the signs right there; a red slash is half-price. These pieces aren’t marked, so they’re regular price.”

They turn and look at the sign and then stare at each other with horrified expressions.

Wife: “We didn’t read the sign. My God, we’ve become what we hate!”

It Might Be More Intelligent To Talk To The Rat

, , , | Right | November 30, 2021

I work for a small call center that takes overflow insurance calls for an extermination company.

Me: “Welcome to [Extermination Company]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “There’s a rat! I saw a rat in my garden!”

Me: “Right, so your insurance covers vermin inside the house, but it doesn’t cover the outside. If you have rats in the garden, I would advise you to try to clean up any—”

Customer: “I don’t care! You have to get here now. There’s a rat in my garden and I’m trapped in my car!”

Me: “Pardon me. Are you trying to say that you’ve been trapped in your car by a rat?

Here I’m imagining rodents of unusual size.

Customer: “Yes, I’m in my parking spot outside and I can see it by the shed and I don’t dare get out of the car as long as it’s there. How long until you can have someone here?”

Me: “Ma’am, I can assure you one single rat is not a threat to you. We can have a technician out within a few days to put out traps or poison if you want.”

Customer: “But I have a small child! I’m going to have to keep him inside until it’s gone!”

Me: “How old is your child?”

I’m picturing a toddler who might be curious about small furry things and unable to understand reasonable arguments not to touch them.

Customer: “He’s fifteen! I don’t want him to get rabies!”

Me: *To my manager, who has a lot more patience than I* “Boss! I think this one’s for you!”