Principal: *at staff meeting* “It is pointless to complain about someone without talking to them first. If a parent complains about you to me, I’ll ask if they’ve spoken with you. If you have a problem with a coworker, talk to them, not me. You can’t resolve an issue if the person isn’t even in the room.”
(Later:)
Principal: “We can no longer serve sugary snacks in school. Thanks, Obama.”
(The former president was not in the room.)
(I work in a discount supermarket and usually we’re three people on one shift, but today we’re suddenly one worker short. I am walking towards the till where a couple of customers are waiting. Another customer asks me a question as I am walking and I stop for a second to answer her, when I suddenly hear a loud whistling sound.)
Customer: *clearly a bit tipsy, even though it’s only nine am* “HEY! God, that was slow!”
Me: *already at the counter, scanning another customer’s items* “I’m sorry, but we’re really understaffed today. I promise I’m going as quickly as I can!”
Customer: “Yeah, yeah, whatever. It just cannot be that you take such a long time to come over and take care of paying customers!”
(The customer I’m currently dealing with laughs nervously and is clearly uncomfortable.)
Me: “Well, we cannot be everywhere when we’re short on staff and so many products are waiting to be put on shelves, but I am just going to go really quickly with your items here so you can get out of here and enjoy the day!”
(I keep smiling and scan his items in a jiffy. All the while he keeps ranting about how insane it is that I was so slow to serve him. As the time for him to pay comes…)
Customer: *fumbling in all his pockets* “Oh, it seems I cannot find my wallet… Just hold on a sec.”
Me: *jokingly* “Well, I guess it’s your turn to be slow now!”
(The customer looked up at me with a VERY embarrassed look on his face while he kept fumbling for his money, holding up all the other customers in line. He never found the money and left the store with his head low, mumbling apologetically. Even though he didn’t apologize, he clearly realized his hypocrisy and was VERY quiet when he came back with the money. This totally made my otherwise stressful day.)
(In the state of California, we are required by law to put up a warning if we have chemicals that can cause cancer — prop 65. The warning is only posted so consumers can make an informed decision about whether or not they want to make a purchase. These chemicals are usually trace amounts and not very harmful, but can be in large amounts. A customer notices this sign.)
Customer: “What are those chemicals?”
Me: “Well, we use chemicals to clean and sanitize, as do all restaurants.”
Customer: “What cleaning?”
Me: “Like soap to clean and sanitize the dishes and work areas. I don’t really know much about the warning.”
Customer: “But what about the cancer?”
Me: “I don’t really know much more than that, but you can look it up on the website there.”
Customer: “I want you to answer me! What chemicals?!”
Me: “I don’t really know. There’s a website for more information.”
Customer: “You’re supposed to know this! You work here and are trying to give me cancer!”
Me: “I’m sorry; I don’t have more information. You can look on the website.”
(The customer PUT OUT HER CIGARETTE and walked into our bathroom mumbling something about cancer-causing chemicals. I wanted to tell her that there were more cancer causing chemicals in that cigarette than some soap and sanitizers, but I held my tongue.)
(I’m seventeen years old and I have my hair dyed an unnatural color, as well has having the typical “butch” haircut. I walk into the [Retailer] by my school to buy some coffee and breakfast. The instant the door greeter sees me, her face lights up with righteous anger.)
Door Greeter: “Miss, you’re so pretty; why the h*** would you put that green in your hair?!”
(My hair is blue.)
Me: *taken aback* “Um, because it’s my favorite color?”
Door Greeter: *splutters in disbelief and scorn*
(I quickly walked into the store before she regained her composure, and made sure to exit through the doors on the opposite side. The kicker? She had the brassiest, fakest bleached-blonde hair I’ve ever seen.)
(I work in a hotel. As in so many stories I read, we often get guests who call up wanting a reservation, and demanding special treatment when we’re fully booked up. We have a way of dealing with this:)
Me: “The only way I can give you a room is if we cancel someone else’s reservation.”
Caller: “Well, do that, then!”
Me: “Do you think that’s a fair and reasonable thing for us to do?”
Caller: “YES!”
Me: “So, just to be clear, you won’t have a problem when five minutes later I cancel your reservation and give the room to someone else?”
Caller: “What? F*** no! You can’t do that!”
Me: “Why not? You just said it’s okay to do it.”
(The call usually ends about there. Sometimes there’s a follow-up:)
Caller: “You’ve got to give me special treatment; I’m a Platinum Rewards customer!”
Me: “Okay, well, I promise I’ll only cancel your reservation in five minutes time and give it to another Platinum Rewards customer, not to just anyone.”
