Tingle Of Death

, , , , , , | Right | August 30, 2019

(I work for an internationally popular skincare brand, known for having affordable and luxury pricing to offer each client options. The skincare requires over 36 hours of training to learn, so we ensure each client can speak with an ambassador so they don’t injure their skin. Still, people skip talking to us to follow beauty bloggers who know little about skincare. In this case, one such woman comes in with two friends. I overhear a customer:)

Customer: “Oh, yeah, I put on Glycolic Acid and Alpha Lipoic Acid every morning before doing Retinol. I love how it makes my skin tingle. You guys need to try it.”

Me: “Excuse me, but do you mind if I ask you a few questions about your routine? We generally recommend using those products separately and in the evening to avoid irritation.”

Customer: “Yeah, well, [Beauty Blogger] says these products saved her skin, and she uses them the way I do.”

(I attempt to politely explain to the client and her friends that this is not a good idea, so that I don’t injure the client’s pride.)

Friend #1: “Okay, but [Beauty Blogger] has gorgeous skin, so we’re just going to do that, even if it’s irritating.”

Friend #2: “Yeah, just show us where they are.”

(I concede and take them to the products, explaining each one as I go, done with being magnanimous.)

Me: “Okay, so, these three will make your skin photosensitive to light, so not only can you give yourself a sunburn, you can get chemical burns from using them all together, which will prematurely age your skin. [Beauty Blogger] must have a great dermatologist fixing her skin if she does all this damage to it.”

(The two friends look at their friend in horror before turning back to me.)

Both: “So, what would you recommend?”

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Needs Treatment Not Treats

, , , , , | Healthy | August 30, 2019

(After a long day of dealing with people who are seemingly too stupid to read price tags, I am ready to go home. My manager has come over to tell me to turn off my light and go home. As I am leaving my register, a woman I’ve seen many times comes up.)

Woman: “Oh, sweetheart, I know you’re leaving but could you please help me? I’ll be quick. It’s just one question.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, I–”

Manager: “[My Name] is one of our most knowledgeable employees. She’ll be happy to help you.” *leaves*

Me: *sigh* “How can I help you?”

Woman: “Well, you see, my dog…” 

(She tells me her twelve-year-old dog’s life story, ending in his inability to poop for four days.) 

Woman: “So, I was wondering which of these treats would be better for him?”

Me: “Take him to the vet.”

Woman: “What?”

Me: “Take him to the vet.”

Woman: “But that’s expensive!”

Me: “Medical bills are expensive. He needs professional help.”

Woman: “You’re supposed to be the professional help! This is ridiculous! Without customers, you wouldn’t have a paycheck. Do you know that? People like me keep you employed!”

Me: “I make $9 an hour. How professional do you think my help is going to be?”

Woman: “Well, that’s not my problem.”

Me: “You refusing to spend money on your dog is not my problem, either.”

Woman: “You’re quite rude!”

Me: “Your other option is to stick your finger up your dog’s a** and dig out the s*** yourself.”

(I feel a little guilty about the last part, but I am over my time and ready to go home, so I walk away and clock out. When I leave the break room, my manager is standing at the front with the woman, who is obviously complaining about me.)

Woman: “…and you should fire her!”

Manager: “I can’t.”

Woman: “What?! Why not?”

Manager: “Today was her last day.”

(The woman sputtered a few nonsensical words before leaving. I can only hope she took my advice and took her dog to the vet. I understand that vet bills are expensive but that’s part of the deal when you’re in charge of another life.)

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He Gin-uinely Tried It

, , , , , , | Healthy | August 27, 2019

(I am a student nurse, about a year from graduation. A friend of mine calls.)

Me: “Hello?”

Friend: “So, you’re a nurse, right?”

Me: “I already don’t like where this is going, and I’m a student nurse. Not–”

Friend: “Okay, well, I have some gravel deep in my hand. Can I just pour some gin on it and be fine?”

(Gin also happens to be his favorite alcohol.)

Me: “What?! Hang on; how did you get gravel in your hand and how deep is it?”

Friend: “I was on my bike and some a**hole opened their car door right in front of me and I went down pretty hard. And here, let me just take a picture.”

(He sends me a picture of his hand, showing that the gravel is dug in pretty deep and firmly stuck in so rinsing it with anything won’t get it out.)

Me: “You need to get tweezers and pull out the gravel, rinse it with water, put something like Neosporin on it, and cover it with a bandaid.”

Friend: “Well, I don’t have tweezers or any of that, really.”

Me: “You live in NYC. There’s definitely some kind of drug store or corner store you can get this stuff in.”

Friend: “I don’t want to spend money on things I already have at home, so can I just pour gin on it?”

Me: *sighs* “I cannot condone this at all but rinsing it with water is probably the best option.”

Friend: “So, gin is okay?”

Me: “If you’re intent on using alcohol, use straight vodka, instead, BUT I CANNOT CONDO–”

Friend: “Okay, thanks, bye!” *hangs up*

(He texts me a picture of his hand. He has used a prong of his watch to dig out the gravel, causing himself to bleed more and making the entire area fairly red. He texts me an hour or so later.)

Friend: “The barkeeper wouldn’t just give me some vodka, so I had to buy it and go into the bathroom to rinse it. Thanks again!”

Me: “This still was not your best option and I cannot condone this behavior.”

(He never replied.)

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Better Start On Those One-Armed Pushups

, , , , , | Working | August 26, 2019

(My job is in a small wardrobe room for a business and I do the closing shift alone most nights. I recently had a minor surgery on my left arm and was told not to lift anything heavy with it for a few days to allow the incision to heal. My supervisor was informed of this ahead of time and I remind him of it, as well, when I come into work for the day.)

Me: “I can do the regular work; I just can’t lift any of the boxes or really heavy things for the next three days.”

Supervisor: “Okay, we’ll work around it.”

(Five minutes later.)

Supervisor: “Oh, they decided they want to repaint the room after we close tonight. Since you’re closing, I need you to move all the racks to the center of the room, and take all the things off the computer desks to the center table.”

(This includes several desktop computers, printers, and heavy heat presses. I point at my bandaged up arm.)

Supervisor: “Can’t you just lift them with one arm?”

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A Complaint You Can Really Chew On  

, , , , | Right | August 26, 2019

(A customer that complained yesterday about there being tax on his soda purchase comes to the register with more soda.)

Customer: “I have to tell you something… Yesterday I bought a hot dog here. It got stuck in my throat and I couldn’t breathe! It happened once before and I got sick from it! I am not buying hot dogs here anymore!”

Me: “Okay…”

(He then angrily told me what else he wanted and glared at me the whole time… because it’s my fault he can’t chew his food?!)

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