She Must Have Been Ribbing You

, , , , , | Right | September 12, 2019

(I work as a hostess for a restaurant. We are open on Memorial Day which, apparently, is uncommon. An old lady comes into our restaurant and starts chatting.)

Lady: “I finally found a restaurant that is open today! I have been craving ribs all day but everywhere I went that sells ribs isn’t open, so I had to come here, instead.”

Me: “Oh, well, we actually do sell ribs here.”

Lady: “Oh, you do?”

Me: “Yup, we sell ribs.”

Lady: “Well, I don’t want your ribs!”

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Unable To Bear Christmas Without One

, , , , , | Hopeless | August 19, 2019

(I take my young son to visit Santa. He tells Santa what he wants and then says:)

Son: “And please get my little sister a Bedtime Bubba Bear.”

Santa: “Of course! It is very nice of you to ask for something for your sister.”

(Santa is clearly touched. He winks at me and smiles at the tiny girl I am holding. But I am horrified! This is the “Tickle Me Elmo” of that year. EVERYONE wants that toy and all stores are sold out! The next few days are spent calling stores. No luck. I look in the paper and see several listed in the classified section. Some are outrageously priced. The silly things are expensive to begin with and everyone who has one wants to make a profit, of course. One person is selling two at not too much more than the store price. I call the number and arrange to pick up one of the bears. When I get there, they indeed have the prized bear. I’m a pretty strong woman. I’m tall. I work in a field that, at the time, is dominated by men. But I see that bear and just fall apart!)

Me: “Oh, my! Yes! Finally! I HAD to find one! My son asked Santa to bring this bear to his little sister. His sister is disabled and can’t ask for anything for herself. This may be the last year he believes in Santa. I couldn’t bear to disappoint him. He saw the commercial and said maybe this bear could help his sister learn to talk. Everything at home is about his sister. Therapies. Modifications. He wanted to be able to help, too. I couldn’t let such a kind thought not come to fruition. I just had to find this bear! Thank you!

(The poor lady just looks stunned, having been run over by my word-train.)

Lady: “Um. Oh. That’s really something.”

Me: “Oh, no! I forgot to get change. I only have 20s. I can go to the store and get change if you don’t have any.”

Lady: “No. No, I have change.”

Me: “Oh. Thank you. And, again, sorry for that.”

(I give her five 20s, take the bear, wrap it in my jacket — the kids are actually in the car — and take the change the woman puts in my hand. I thank her again and head out to the car. When I get home, I realize that instead of $15, this woman has given me $40 in change. I call her to let her know I’ll drop the money off on my way to work.)

Me: “Hi. I’m the crazy woman who bought the bear. I’m afraid you got the bills in your wallet shuffled. I got too much change. I’ll swing it by in the morning if that’s okay. I can slide it through your mail slot if that’s too early.”

Lady: “No. You got the right change. Your daughter needs that bear. Your son needs your daughter to have that bear.”

(She hung up. And I cried. My daughter is in her 20s now and has three toys from her youth: the bunny who accompanied her to the hospital for her surgeries, a bunny a sweet lady gave her in the hospital, and Bedtime Bubba.)

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The Land Of The Free To Moan

, , , , , , | Right | July 4, 2019

(I am working on the 4th of July while I am in high school. I volunteer to work this shift since I know there won’t be anyone in and because I have no plans. The only people in the entire store are a manager, a custodian, one employee for all the specialty sections (bakery, deli, etc.), and me.)

Me: “Hello, and welcome to [Grocery Store].”

Customer: “You must be a Democrat, not celebrating the birth of our nation; how dare you!”

(Store policy says to not get involved in confrontations.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. But the store must stay open to help all our customers.”

Customer: “Well, I’ve got a party to get to so let’s hurry this up.”

(I finish up scanning her items and I’m bagging them myself, so it’s going a bit slow.)

Customer: “Can’t you call anyone over to help? This is taking too long!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s a holiday, everyone wanted to be with their families, and I’m the only one working the registers today.”

Customer: “This is terrible service! You should have made other workers come in today!”

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Blame Canada! Part 8

, , , , , , | Right | June 4, 2019

(I’m a dispatcher on the phone with an irate Boston customer for nearly twenty minutes about the fact that his hot tub will not be delivered until after the Canadian Holiday.)

Caller: “What do you mean, you will be delivering it Tuesday?! Today is Monday, and on Friday, the tracking said one business day until delivery!”

Me: “Yes, I apologize on our company’s behalf. But, as I have mentioned, we have a holiday in Canada on Monday and, therefore, it will not arrive until tomorrow.”

Caller: “That’s garbage! It’s not even a real holiday! Why the h*** is it not being delivered?”

(I’m tired of repeating myself, but I try once more.)

Me: “It is being delivered, sir, but all our drivers are off Monday so they can be with their families.”

Caller: “That’s it! Get me your manager on the phone now! Someone is going to be in hot water here!”

Me: “And it certainly won’t be you, sir. Have a nice day!” *click*

(My boss had to give me a little grief for this one, but after a good chuckle. Yes, Americans, Canadian holidays are as real to us as yours are to you.)

Related:
Blame Canada! Part 7
Blame Canada! Part 6
Blame Canada! Part 5

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Santa Doesn’t Take Back Gifts

, , , , , , | Right | May 29, 2019

(A lady walks into up to the return counter. It’s about mid-August. She is carrying a red and green holiday bag.)

Customer: “I want to return this.” *dumps out a toddler onesie that is printed like a Santa suit*

(I check the receipt. It’s from December of last year.)

Me: “Ma’am, this is from Christmas of last year. It’s not in our system. If you don’t want it anymore, I’d suggest donating it because we can’t take it back. Sorry.”

Customer: “My daughter told me to return this. No wonder she gave it to me; she was too ashamed to go herself! I can’t believe she did that to me. Sorry I wasted your time.”

(She wadded up the suit and the bag and stormed out. I would not want to be her daughter when she gets home.)

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