You Have Become The Very Thing You Sought To Destroy! Part 3

, , , , , | Right | July 7, 2021

I work at the customer service desk/money center. We ask that customers wear masks that cover their nose and mouth, and some people seem to think wearing the blue paper masks until they are literally falling apart is okay.

I’m approached by an older gentleman wearing a filthy mask on his face with a clean one poking out from his shirt somewhere near his belly button.

Customer: “You got a stapler?”

Me: “Yes, sir, what do you need stapled?”

I’m slightly confused as he doesn’t have any papers or envelopes in his hands that would usually signal a bill that needs to be attached together.

Customer: “You need to staple this d*** strap back on my mask.”

He pulls his face mask off and shoves it in my face. I can see it’s been knotted sloppily in one corner. The straps are brown instead of white and the mask itself is practically one layer, it’s been used so much.

Me: “For health and safety reasons, I’m not allowed to do that. I can’t touch your mask.”

I put my stapler back in front of me, out of his reach, and step back to avoid him shoving the mask further into my face.

Customer: “You need to provide customer service! This is customer service!”

Me: “You have a perfectly good—”

He cuts me off as I point at the one poking out of his shirt and thumps the counter with two fingers.

Customer: “You put that stapler down there and I won’t tell nobody.”

Me: “I’m afraid the six cameras above your head will tattle on me. I’m not stapling your mask.”

Customer: “This is the customer service desk! You need to provide customer service!”

He thumps the counter again and I grab both staplers I can reach and shove them into a drawer, well out of his reach.

Me: “How does a piece of tape sound, if you’re so concerned about that specific mask?”

I rip a piece of tape off the dispenser and hold it out to him.

Customer: “Well… I want a staple, but tape will work.”

He frowned but took the tape from me. When he put the tape on the mask, he didn’t even attempt to cover the knot with it but put it smack-dab across the little metal piece that pinches the nose.

You Have Become The Very Thing You Sought To Destroy!, Part 2
You Have Become The Very Thing You Sought To Destroy!

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In The Words Of Gimli, “NOT THE BEARD!”

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: iamdisasta | July 7, 2021

I’ve been working at an electronics store. Sometimes I work in the department that offers hygiene products. We sell electric toothbrushes as well as razors, hair clippers, and things like that. One of every new item has to be unboxed and put on display (secured with a cable connected to an alarm system that is triggered if the item/cable is removed) so that people can touch and look at them.

Every single device that comes with an included integrated rechargeable battery comes preloaded. Because of that, we find lipstick marks on toothbrushes or hairs and dander in razors because people TEST them for real. It’s disgusting, but it seems like they don’t mind who already tested them before.

One day we decide to unload them before we put them on display. We hear “brrrrrrrrmmmm” for hours in our department’s drawers while their batteries are running low.

Everything works fine until a new girl forgets to do this with a facial epilator. We decide to not unplug and unload it; it’s too much effort for this single device. What could go wrong? So, on this one nice, sunny day where nothing else happens except birds singing and flowers blooming, I’ve been minding my own business until I hear something like, “Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr… AAAAAAAHHHHHHH”! just behind me.

I turn around and find a guy in his thirties with a big, gorgeous beard. In his hand, he’s holding something that seems to be attached to this glorious beard. That’s attached to the cable that leads to our alarm system. Oh, no. No. You are kidding me. You just can’t be serious.

As I walk over to him, already giggling, I try to be serious.

Me: “Can I help you?”

Customer: “My beard got stuck.”

Me: “In?”

Customer: “In this facial epilator.”

I can’t hold my laughter back anymore.

Me: “One moment, please. I’ll search for scissors.”

Customer: “Oh, my God, you can’t do this. My beard! Look at my beard! There would be a hole. There has to be another way!”

After a lot of arguing he finally agreed to buy this epilator and take it home so he or his wife could find a better way to get rid of it. I unlocked the alarm system and escorted him to the cash desk. I told the cashier that she had to scan the barcode of the empty package I brought with me and shouldn’t mind what the guy was holding in his hand. She burst into laughter.

The customer paid and left the store, and we’ve never seen him again.

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Sometimes A Nosebleed Is Just A Nosebleed

, , , , | Learning | July 6, 2021

My whole life, I’ve always been prone to getting nosebleeds. Thankfully, the issue has gotten better as I’ve grown up, but as a kid, anything from stress to a drop in humidity, to the lightest bonk on the nose was enough to set it off. After being assured by my pediatrician that, as long as the bleeds didn’t last too long or happen too often, I was fine and would likely grow out of it, my parents and I quickly learned how to properly take care of them and how to get them to stop more quickly.  

One year, when I’m about ten or so, I attend a local summer camp. I can’t recall the exact catalyst for this nosebleed — if there even was one — but I’m stuck in the bathroom for several minutes trying to get it to stop. Eventually, a counselor finds me and goes pale.

Counselor: “Oh, my God! What happened?!”

Me: “Just a nosebleed. I get these sometimes. I’m all right.”

Counselor: “I’m going to bring you to the front office, just to be safe, okay?”

Not really given a choice in the matter, I’m begrudgingly pulled up to the front office after I clean myself up.

Camp Director: “Okay, [My Name], I think we’re going to call your mom about this.”

Me: “Really, you don’t have to worry about this. It’s normal for me and she knows it!”

Camp Director: “We just need to make sure, kid.”

I can hear my mom through the phone as they talk.

Mom: “Hello?”

Camp Director: “Hello, Mrs. [Mom]. It’s [Camp Director] from [Camp]. I’m just calling because [My Name] had a nosebleed?”

Mom: “Is he not able to get it to stop?”

Camp Director: “No, no, it’s stopped.”

Mom: “Did it ruin his clothes? Do I need to bring extras over?”

Camp Director: “No, those are fine, as well.”

Mom: “Did he not tell you that these are normal for him and that he knows how to deal with them?”

Camp Director: “Well, he did but we just wanted to be sure—”

Mom: “Well, you can be sure by actually listening to the kids sometimes.”

She hung up and I was sent back with my group.

Looking back, I see that my mother was a lot ruder than she needed to be to a woman who was just worried about my health, but at least it taught her to note my nosebleeds whenever she signed me up for anything else so that we were both left alone after that!

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A Pox Upon The Manager’s House!

, , , , , , | Working | CREDIT: AnonyMousketeer90 | July 5, 2021

When I was about five, I got chickenpox. No big deal for me; I barely noticed and just had a fun week home from school playing Power Rangers.

My mum, however, realised that at age thirty-three, she had never had chickenpox, and she was pretty sure I had now given it to her.

She was right. So, she called her manager at work — a big supermarket chain — and told her that, although she felt fine, she was pretty sure she had the pox.

Manager: *Tersely* “If you feel fine, come in for work, then!”

So… in my mum went. She spent hours sitting at the checkout, scanning items, and handling money, until a supervisor from the bakery department happened to wander by and physically recoiled as he saw that my mum now had visible spots manifesting on her arms and neck.

Supervisor: “Y-You have chickenpox?!”

Mum: “Yep.”

Supervisor: “Why the h*** are you here?”

Mum: “I told [Manager], but she told me to come in anyway.”

[Supervisor] went straight to [Manager] and demanded she let my mother go home. Obviously pissed at being tattled on and having her stupid actions be made apparent to her coworkers, [Manager] tried to take it out on my mum in some small way by demanding she get a doctor’s note.

My mum went straight from work to the doctor who told her, confused, that she could have just stayed home for a week, maybe even only a few days. She didn’t need to see a doctor for chickenpox.

When my mum told him her manager had demanded a doctor’s note, he said, “Fine,” and signed her off work for TWO weeks. Right before Christmas.

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A Not-So-Smooth Operator

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: gravelangel | July 4, 2021

We just got a one-star review from a guest who stayed with us on Christmas Eve. She arrived alone in a rideshare fresh from having hip replacement surgery. Her complaint? We did not accommodate her disability because we were not able to provide a room with no carpet, a wheelchair to get her to her room, a bellman to take care of getting her and her luggage to her room, room service so she could get something to eat without leaving her room… and on and on.

First off, we are a Select Service property. Bellmen, room service, etc. — never had it, never will. Second, in what universe is hotel staff responsible for taking care of post-operation patients? Thirdly, thank you for wrecking our perfect score this month with your whining. Maybe you should not have waited until your discharge date to make a hotel reservation while hopped up on painkillers!

The entitlement of so many people these days is just astonishing, and I’ve been in this business for close to twenty years.

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