A Uniform Response, Part 5

, , , , | Right | January 24, 2021

I have had three different jobs and I still have the uniforms for my other two, which were fast food. One of them was a coffee shop that is well-known but not too popular. I often wear the uniform shirt in public because I still love the place and don’t mind the free advertisement. I also have some pretty bad anger issues; I just feel angry for no reason at all kind of often, with a hair-thin trigger. This happens on my first ever trip to the much more popular coffee shop. I order and sit at a nearby table on my phone to wait.

Lady: “Get up!”

She is standing right in front of me, just staring. I look up at her.

Me: “What do you want?”

Lady: “That’s no way to talk to a customer! Get your a** up and make my coffee! I swear, lazy-a** millennials like you are ruining this country.”

Me: “I don’t work here.”

Lady: “Don’t lie. I’ve seen you here! And it says it on your shirt! I am a paying customer; you can’t—”

I stand up and slam my phone down on the table and stand toe-to-toe to her. She is maybe an inch shorter than me so it isn’t that intimidating, but she does back up a couple of steps.

Me: “Excuse me? I don’t f****** work here. You know d*** well I don’t, as this—” *gestures to the name of the coffee shop on my chest* “—is nowhere f****** close to this shop. You don’t need to be talking s*** like that to workers or random-a** people. Now piss off; my drink is ready.”

I went up and got my drink. I didn’t bother seeing what happened to the lady after I said that.

Related:
A Uniform Response, Part 4
A Uniform Response, Part 3
A Uniform Response, Part 2
A Uniform Response

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I Don’t Work Here: Indian Edition

, , , , | Right | January 19, 2021

I live in a part of the country that’s experiencing a growing population of people from India, and many of these folks find employment at our local [National Retail Chain].

I’m at this store, waiting for the next open self-serve register, when a pair of older Caucasian women approach an Indian woman who is wearing a lovely, brightly-colored saree and clearly using one of the self-serve registers.

They start asking her where they can find women’s sweaters, and she politely smiles and says she doesn’t work there. They apologize and walk away. The best part? Not even two feet from the Indian lady was an actual employee — not Indian — in the standard blue vest with our little logo on the front and a huge one on the back, name tag and all, and they just walked away from her.

So, in my neighborhood, I guess it’s assumed that if you’re from India and at [National Retail Chain], you obviously work there.

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They’ve Opened A Branch On Krypton

, , , , | Right | January 18, 2021

I’m standing in the back of a store waiting for someone to help me make a payment on my layaway. They’ve been taking over twenty minutes and I’m pretty frustrated. I distract myself with my phone and just lean on one of the cashier counters. Up comes a man with a cart full of items. I’m wearing a black and red shirt with a large Superman symbol over the chest, jean shorts, and sandals.

Customer: “So, can I just pay for my stuff here?”

I look up and stare at him with disbelief for a few seconds.

Me: “I… don’t work here.”

Customer: “Really?”

Me: “Yup. Superman shirt, shorts, sandals, no vest… I’m not an employee.”

Customer: “Oh, so you need a [Store] shirt to work here?”

Me: “Yes. I would think so.”

The customer walked away talking to himself about not knowing where to go.

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Giving You A Dressing Down About What They’re Dressed Up As About The Salad Dressing

, , , , | Right | January 1, 2021

I am shopping at [Grocery Store], whose only identifying uniform to me is a bright red apron with the store’s logo on the front. I’m after a particular brand and flavor of salad dressing that another customer happens to be standing in front of. This other customer is wearing khaki pants and a black polo.

Me: “Excuse me, bu—”

The other customer cuts me off mid-word, serving me a death glare, and yelling:

Other Customer: “I do not work here! I will not help you, because I do not work here! This is not this store’s uniform! Go find a real g**d*** employee to help you! Why in the h*** won’t you people leave me alone?!”

I am taken aback and slightly shocked from being yelled at out of nowhere.

Me: “I… was just trying to ask you if you would move a little so that I could get a bottle of [salad dressing]. It’s right behind you on the shelf.” 

The other customer gapes at me for a second before a very embarrassed look comes across their face. They look down at their phone and shuffle forward a few steps so that I can reach the product I was after.

Me: “Thanks.”

I grabbed my bottle of salad dressing and hurried away. I don’t even want to know what type of day this person was having.

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I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 37

, , , , | Right | December 28, 2020

My friend and I are at a pet store, shopping for supplies for a brand-new kitten I have just gotten. We’re looking at litter boxes and they’re a little high up. Most people would have to ask for an employee to help, but I am tall enough to reach them, so I’m getting them down myself. While doing this, a disgruntled old lady with a cane comes up to me and my friend.

Old Lady: “Do you know where the liners are?”

Me: “No, uh, we don’t work here.”

Old Lady: “Oh, okay.”

She then wandered off, grumbling about getting no help from nobody and how they should hire better people.

Granted, we were wearing the same colored shirts as the employees. But we had our own cart full of stuff and our shirts didn’t even have the same logo.

Related:
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 36
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 35
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 34
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 33
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 32

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