Do You Want Me To Not Say It Any Clearer?

, , , , , , | Working | March 27, 2020

(I’ve unfortunately inherited my dad’s severe reactions to orthodontic work. A procedure that would cause most people a day or two of mild pain will cause me a week of severe pain and residual pain for another two. Nothing seems to help and dentists don’t always take it seriously. One summer, I’m working my first two customer service jobs and I get some dental work done. I’m in my usual pain, meaning I can’t talk for more than a few seconds at a time, which is fine at [Job #1]; it’s the front desk of a gym, so it’s mostly just, “Hi, how are you?” But [Job #2] is cashiering at a restaurant, which means I spend most of my day talking. I go into [Job #2] a few hours after getting the dental work and these are the conversations that happen for the next few days:)

Me: *explains dental work, level of pain, and requests non-talking jobs*

Shift Lead: “Are you sure?”

Me: *in a slow whisper, which is all I can handle* “Absolutely. I cannot talk today and I probably won’t be able to stay on register all shift for at least three days.”

Shift Lead: “Okay…”

(They seem to be willing to accommodate, but then…)

Shift Lead: *thirty minutes later* “Hey, can you get on register?”

Me: “Umm… No? Remember it hurts to talk?”

Shift Lead: “Oh, okay. Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes.”

Shift Lead: *two hours later* “Hey, are you feeling better? Can you get on register? [Coworker] needs to go on break.”

Me: “Can anybody else do it?”

Shift Lead: “Well…”

Me: “Okay, fine, but no more than fifteen minutes.”

(Ten minutes pass.)

Me: “Sorry, I tried but I really can’t. You’re going to have to find someone else.”

(It finally seems to get through, but then, the next day…)

Shift Lead: *in pre-shift meeting* “Okay, [My Name] you’re on register today.”

Me: *thinking* “Seriously?” *saying* “I feel just as bad as I did yesterday. I really can’t. I’m sorry.”

(The same thing repeated the next day, and on the fourth day, I finally felt like I could do half a shift on register without too much pain… Buuuuuuut, you guessed it — the same questions were repeated all day again. I was eventually fine and went back to my normal duties, but having had several customer service jobs since then, the situation seems a lot sillier than I realized it was at the time. It makes absolute sense that they need me on my regular job, but when I couldn’t do it they didn’t hold to the accommodations they agreed to or ask me to go home until I felt better, which would have saved them the cost of paying an employee that couldn’t do their job!)

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A Bad Sample Of Humanity

, , , , , , | Right | March 27, 2020

Corporate has decided to ban all sampling indefinitely in lieu of all the very busy days and panic buying. I was just informed of this a few hours before this incident. I am working the counter while my manager is stocking the shelves in front of the cases. An older man comes up, smelling like alcohol, and I go to assist him. Everything he says is slightly slurred but still understandable.

Me: “Hi, can I help you?”

 A customer is pointing vaguely at the hot case where everything is chicken.

Customer: “How much is this chicken?”

Me: “Which chicken?”

Customer: *louder* “The chicken!”

Me: “The fried chicken, the baked chicken, the chicken tenders?”

Customer: “Just give me a sample of your chicken salad.”

I start to grab a sample cup and spoon, but my manager, who has been watching, tells me no samples.

Me: “I’m sorry, we’re not giving samples right now.”

Customer: *Angrily* “Why not?”

Me: “Due to the viru—”

The customer completely cuts me off.

Customer: “F*** you and your mom!”

Me: *Calmly* “May you be blessed with the same kindness you show everyone else.”

I just moved on to help the next customer and my manager followed the first customer upfront and made sure that he wasn’t allowed to buy his beer.

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When Doing The Right Thing Sours The Milk

, , , , , , , | Working | March 26, 2020

About ten years ago, I got my first job in a local pub right on the seafront. It was — and still is — a beautiful location, and my best friend also worked there behind the bar. I thought I had scored the perfect job, but due to the actions of a few terrible people, it became a living nightmare. There were many things that went on that you probably wouldn’t believe, but today I’m just going to tell you about one of the milder instances.

The big boss, a giant of a man almost as wide as he was tall, wanted to train me up on coffees. Along with the usual instructions, he told me to just put the jugs of hot steamed milk back into the fridge after we were done with them. They were large pitchers, so the same batch of milk would be constantly heated, cooled, and reheated throughout the day. After the boss had walked away, my best friend quietly told me that it wasn’t safe to do that, and we should throw the old milk away as soon as the coast was clear.

Concerned, I did some research that night and found that, yeah, it’s not safe to keep steaming hot liquids in the fridge, as the repeated cooling and heating keeps the milk in the “danger zone” temperature range too often, which could lead to the growth of bacteria, as well as potentially affecting the temperature of everything else in the fridge.

Being young, naive, and on the autistic spectrum, I innocently assumed that my manager was simply unaware of these facts, and that surely he would be glad to know the truth. I printed off my findings and took them to him the next morning.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t go well. 

He shooed me into the kitchen, physically backed me up into a corner, and began threatening me that — in his own words — “a little knowledge is a dangerous thing,” and that he had been thinking of giving me a promotion but now he “didn’t think he could trust me.”

I had my hours cut, and of course I never got that promotion, which honestly I don’t think ever existed. If we were ever caught throwing the milk away, it was taken out of our pay. It was a good lesson in never trusting the bosses to do the right thing, a lesson that has been backed up time and time again in every place I’ve worked since.

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Danced Right Away From His Problems

, , , , | Romantic | March 26, 2020

(I am married to a fellow Marine, a man with two left feet and no sense of rhythm. He hates to dance; probably inevitably, I am a dancin’ fool. We come to terms with this early in our relationship, or at least I think so.

It’s Friday and we are meeting at the Officer’s Club. This particular club has a DJ and dancing on Fridays. I sprained my ankle earlier this week, so I come limping into the bar on my crutches and greet my husband.)

Me: “I see the DJ is getting ready.”

Husband: *in a tragic tone of voice, glancing at my crutches* “Yes, and I was just going to ask you to dance!”

(I tried to smack him with a crutch but he was too fast for me.)

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Being A Real A**pirin

, , , , , | Right | March 26, 2020

(I work in a hotel.)

Me: “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

Customer: *whispering* “Yes, do you have an aspirin?”

(We cannot give out any medicine because if the customer has a reaction to it, we could be held liable for a lawsuit.)

Me: “No… I’m sorry, we cannot give out medicine.”

Customer: “Where’s the nearest place I can buy it?”

Me: “The nearest pharmacy is thirteen blocks away down the street to the west.”

Customer: “That’s too far!”

Me: “Sorry, I can’t change it.”

Customer: *dramatically* “Well! I guess I’ll just suffer, then!” *storms off flat-footed*

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