Mail Order Disorder

, , , , , , , | Working | November 10, 2017

(I travel a lot and unfortunately have been getting sick a lot recently. I get a loud banging on my door, so I go check it and all I see is a pink slip from a delivery company that says, “vacant?” I go check my mail and there are three letters in there. A week later, I get the banging again and grab the door to see a postal worker standing there.)

Postal Worker: “You need to check your mail more! I thought you were vacant!”

Me: “I travel a lot, and I’ve recently been too sick to move. Usually I check it every other day.”

Postal Worker: “I don’t believe you! You have at least three weeks of mail piled up at the post office.”

Me: “Yeah, right. Also, you see that mezuzah on my door? Clear sign that it’s not vacant because Jews don’t leave a home without them. So, stop harassing me and give me the dumb slip so I can get my three weeks worth of junk mail!”

Postal Worker: “It’s in the mail box.” *he walks away*

Me: “No, it’s not! You were just writing it. I can see it in your hand!”

(No response.)

Me: “Fine! I’ll be there soon. I hope your coworkers got their flu shots!”

It’s Not Going Swimmingly

, , , , , , | Romantic | November 10, 2017

(My husband and I have just started to try to conceive, instead of just leaving it to luck or chance. After an intimate night, he asks me to position myself so that gravity isn’t working against us. I ask that he at least hand me my phone so that I have some entertainment until I get up.)

Me: “Please, it’s just right there by you. I would have to get up to get it myself.”

Husband: “No. No distractions. I need you to completely focus on telling those swimmers to get you pregnant.”

Me: *sigh* “That’s not how it works.”

Cannot Perceive The Depth Of Their Stupidity

, , , , , , , | Right | November 10, 2017

(I work in a small store with a pharmacy in the back. As a veteran employee, my store manager occasionally leaves me in charge while she runs short errands. It’s just before lunch time, and the store is dead, so my manager leaves to get decorating supplies for the summer season. A little while later, a woman comes limping in with a companion, and comes straight up to the front desk where I am. Note that our store is in an area with a BIG shoplifting problem, where other stores have had to shut down just from the theft alone.)

Me: “Hello! How can I help you today?”

Customer: “I want to return these.”

(She pulls two identical pairs of brand-new over-the-counter reading glasses out of her purse, which retail at $25 each, our most expensive variety.)

Me: “All right, do you have your receipt?”

Customer: *glares at me*No! I bought these just last month! When I put them on I started seeing double and fell down the stairs! I have been in the hospital for three weeks with a broken foot! The doctor told me the glasses made me develop a condition called ‘Depth Perception!’ I could have died! You should be ashamed of yourself for selling faulty glasses like that!”

(She begins leaning on her companion for physical support and moaning in pain.)

Me: *struggling to not make a face at the customer’s “diagnosis”* “I see, ma’am. Let me get a scanner and look at your purchase.”

(I bring over an internal scanning unit and check the UPC number on the glasses. Not only have we not sold any for the last six weeks, but we don’t carry this particular type of glasses. However, the store down the road does. I excuse myself, saying I need to verify the current price of the glasses for the customer, and walk back to the pharmacy so I’m out of earshot. I call [Neighbor Store], which is two miles away, and they confirm they are missing several pairs of these glasses. Since my manager is out of the store, I make a judgement call and return to the front. All of this has taken five minutes. When I get back, the customer has dragged a chair over from our photo department and sat down at my register.)

Customer: “Well, finally! We’ve been waiting forever!”

Me: “I apologize, ma’am. Unfortunately, it looks like we don’t carry this item. You will have to return them to the store you purchased them from.”

Customer: “I got them at [Neighbor Store]. Your company policy says I can return them anywhere!”

(The customer moans in pain, rubbing her upper calf. I notice this is the opposite foot from the one she indicated when she came in the store.)

Me: “Yes, ma’am. That’s true for the items carried by all our stores. For items carried by select stores, those items must be returned to a store that carries the merchandise, so they can either resell the items or receive credit from the vendor. If I accept this refund, we can neither sell the item, nor return it for credit, as it’s not recognized by our system.”

Customer: “I can’t go all the way down there! I have a broken foot! I can’t even drive right now! My neighbor brought me here and we don’t have the gas to get to the other store!”

(As she says this, she’s groaning in “distress.”)

Me: “I really am sorry, ma’am. Even if I could return these glasses, without a receipt, I would have to give you store credit, and I don’t have access to the cards to do that at the moment.”

Customer: *suddenly livid, no longer faking an injury* “WHERE’S YOUR MANAGER?! I WANT TO TALK TO YOUR MANAGER!”

Me: “She stepped out of the store for a few minutes, but she should be back shortly. Would you like to wait outside for her? You can leave the glasses here, if you like; that way, if she can override the refund, we can do it without you even getting out of the car again.”

(At this point, I’m just stalling for time. I know there’s no way in heck my manager is refunding these. The customer obviously thinks she’s going to win the argument when the manager returns.)

Customer:Fine! I’ll leave them here. Make sure no one takes them. I’m already going to sue you guys for my hospital bills.”

(She hobbles out of the store in a very exaggerated fashion, leaning on her neighbor. I move the glasses behind the counter where the customer will not be able to reach them. About ten minutes later, my manager comes back. The customer ambushes my manager while she’s still on the sidewalk.)

Customer:You! You need to fire that worthless cashier! She won’t refund my glasses!”

(She gives her entire explanation again, including the doctor diagnosing her with “Depth Perception.”)

Manager: “Did you forget that I filed a criminal trespass against you for shoplifting? You aren’t allowed to be anywhere on the property, including the parking lot. Go away, or I’m having you arrested.”


Manager: “You mean the glasses that [Neighbor Store] has you on camera shoving in your purse before walking out the front door? No. We’ll be keeping those as evidence. I look forward to seeing you at the trial.”

(The customer keeps trying to argue, so my manager takes out her cell phone and dials the police, showing the customer the screen. The customer then takes off RUNNING and gets into her car, speeding out of the parking lot. The manager comes back into the store.)

Me: “How did you know she stole them? I just had a suspicion. I was waiting for you to come back and shut her down.”

Manager: “She came in last week, and the week before, with the exact same story. It was literally word for word what she just told me now. Plus, she’s been going around to three of our stores in a ten-mile area and doing the same thing.”

Me: “You know, if she’d bothered to look up an actual medical condition, I might have believed her. I mean, almost everyone has depth perception. It’s why we have two eyeballs!”

Manager: “Well, you can’t accuse her of a lack of creativity. Most people just claim the stolen goods were something their ‘grandma bought and no longer needs.'”

(This was over three years ago, and we still laugh about it. The customer was later arrested and found guilty of felony theft. Apparently, she didn’t learn her lesson and kept at it until someone caught her again.)

Need A Thick-Skin To Be A Cashier

, , , , , | Working | November 9, 2017

(This happens during the Ebola epidemic in Africa. It has recently been reported that a woman from Glasgow has been quarantined after contracting it while working over there. I am recovering from my first ever allergic reaction, which left my skin blotchy and swollen. Normally I wouldn’t be outside, but life goes on and I need shopping. I’m currently checking out. The cashier has been looking at me strangely for the whole transaction.)

Cashier: “That’s £109.87, please.”

Me: “Oh, my reward card.”

Cashier: “Th-thank you?”

(She hesitantly takes it, trying to avoid touching my skin. She scans it and drops it on the other end of the counter.)

Cashier: “£98.87.” *while handing over cash* “Do you have card?”

Me: “No. Cash.”

Cashier: “Please, use card.”

(She activates the card reader and waits for me to use it.)

Me: “Look. I have £100 right here. I’m not using my card.”

(It takes the cashier a long time to reach for my money, but I sneeze into my other hand before she takes it.)

Cashier: *going pale* “YOU’VE GOT THE EBOLA!” *runs screaming through the store to who-knows-where*

Other Worker: *running up to me* “What on Earth?!”

Me: “She just said I had Ebola and ran off.”

(The other worker disappears and comes back roughly a minute later to finish my purchase.)

Other Worker: “Sorry about that. She said your face was peeling off, and that you gave her Ebola.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. I had an allergic reaction last week. I guess it must have scared her.”

Other Worker: “No, it’s not your fault. It’s just plain ignorance.”

(I paid, and as I left, the cashier was being dragged up to the front by EMTs. She was in full hysterics, shouting, “EBOLA!” at every customer who walked past. I’m fully recovered now, but whenever I’m in there and we lock eyes, she flees. I’m told by the others in there that she still thinks I have Ebola, and tries to call the police every time she sees me. They keep a tally in the back.)

Friendship Comes With Safety Padding

, , , , , , , | Friendly | November 9, 2017

(After lunch one of my friends comes running up to me and pulls me off to the bathroom. She looks worried, so I ask what’s wrong.)

Friend: *embarrassed* “Well, I started my period today and I don’t have any pads! I had some in my purse but my sister must have stolen them!”

Me: *relieved* “Oh, okay. I’ve got some in my purse.”

(I pull one out and hand it to her. She takes it and dashes into a stall. When she comes back out, she still looks worried.)

Me: “What’s wrong, [Friend]? It must be more than your period.”

Friend: *suddenly blurts* “I’m out of pads at home!”

Me: “Why don’t you tell your mom? I’m sure she’ll buy them for you.”

Friend: *shaking her head* “No, she won’t!”

Me: *stunned* “What?! Why not?!”

Friend: “Well, [Friend’s Sister] and I get an allowance of $20 every month for our ‘essentials,’ like toothpaste, feminine products, razors, deodorant… you get the idea. Our mom got the idea to do it to teach us how to budget.” *sighs* “Problem is, the cost of stuff has gone up since my mom started doing this, and she hasn’t increased our allowance, so it’s not enough any more. Usually my sister and I run out of something or other and have to do without until we get our allowance again.”

Me: “That’s terrible!” *I pull the other half dozen pads out of my purse and give them to her* “Stick those in your purse.” *pause* “Can you use scented pads?”

Friend: *frowns* “Yeah, why?”

Me: *smiling* “Good! I’ll bring you a whole box of them tomorrow!”

Friend: “You don’t—”

Me: *holding up one hand to silence her* “Yes, I do. Besides, I grabbed them by mistake a couple months ago, and I can’t use them because the scent makes my butt break out in a rash.”

(My friend bursts into tears and laughter at the same time.)

Friend: *sniffling* “I’m sorry! I’m just so happy you’re going to bring me pads, but at the same time, that butt rash story was TMI!” *giggles*

(That wasn’t the last time I had to bring pads to that friend. I used to sneak them to her when I’d stay the weekend, because if her mom saw me giving them to her, she lectured me, saying her daughter “needed to learn better money management.”)

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