Unfiltered Story #199783

, | Unfiltered | June 29, 2020

I work in a souvenir shop so most of the customers are tourists. Because we have some interesting products for sale and on display in the window, I hear a lot of the same unoriginal, unfunny jokes every single day. One day however one man makes a joke I’ve never heard before.

Man: *points at a wool product* Is this made out of REAL penguin fur?
Me: *surprised that someone actually made a good, original joke* No, actually that’s fake penguin fur.

This sure made my day, since hearing the same old jokes told so many times a day can be quite exhausting.

Mmm, Pepperoni & Vanilla

, , , | Right | June 9, 2020

I work at a very busy tourist place in the capital. The cafeteria has all kinds of food — warm or cold, sweet or salty — including twenty different-flavoured ice creams that are made at the same place.

All kinds of nationalities come to visit this place and sometimes we can get quite funny and weird questions about the food.

A group of teenagers, who clearly aren’t from this country, are all standing in front of the ice cream, talking together in a language we don’t understand. One of them comes forward and starts asking me about the ice creams.

Customer: “Is there anything from pigs in your ice cream?”

Me: *Very confused* “Um… What? Pigs?”

Customer: “Yes! It’s very important. Is there anything from pigs in your ice cream?”

Me: “Well… no. We don’t use pigs in our ice cream.”

Customer: “Are you sure? Nothing from pigs? Are you totally sure?”

Me: “Yes, we don’t use pigs in our ice cream. In fact, there is a sign in front of this glass where it says what we make our ice cream of. There is nothing from pigs.”

The customer accepted this and most of the teenagers bought some ice cream, mostly without any kind of special flavours. It turned out that most of them were Muslims and didn’t know much about this country’s customs or food, so they wanted to be totally sure it didn’t break their rules.

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Við Tölum Ensku!

, , , | Right | June 9, 2020

I work in a cafeteria at a busy tourist place. All kinds of nationalities visit, and even if most of them speak good, okay, or bad English, we almost always manage to get them what they want.

There are two men in their mid-twenties standing a bit from us, talking in low voices together for a while, before one of them comes towards the counter, seemingly to order something. Before I manage to say anything, he starts speaking in a British accent, with a very sorry face.

Tourist: “I’m sorry, but I don’t speak Icelandic.”

I am totally dumbfounded for a second.

Me: “T— That’s okay. I speak English. In fact, almost everyone in this country speaks and understands English very well.”

He still looked sorry, as if it was his fault that he didn’t speak Icelandic, but he and his friend got their questions answered and orders made without any problems.

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Unfiltered Story #195802

, | Unfiltered | June 1, 2020

I am driving a bus between a remote suburb and the city central. En route to the city I pick up a bunch of tourists, all soaking wet after the recent heavy rainfall.
Lady: “You going downtown?”
Me. “Yes”
Lady: “Excellent!”
*Drops two adult and one child fare into the pay box, but they are three adults and two kids. Since they were tourists and soaking wet, I let it slide.*
As we near downtown, they are getting louder and taking over most of the passenger cabin by themselves or by hanging wet clothes all over the seats, causing puddles on the floor of the bus. This, unfortunately, causes an elderly gentleman to fall over a few stops later. (He is OK by the way.)
We finally get to the city central transit, where a row of passengers are waiting to board the bus. As I open the back doors (to let passengers out) and front door (to let passengers in), the tourist lady scrambles up front to my booth.
Lady: “Oh miss, we need to transfer to another bus.”
Me. “Ok?”
Lady: “So, we need transfer tickets.”
Me: “Well, if you needed transfer tickets, you should have stated so when you boarded the bus in the first place.”
Lady: “But we need transfer tickets! Can’t you just give us some?!”
Me: “No, I cannot, since it against the rules after X amount of time, which is why we state that you should ask for transfer tickets when you board the bus.”
*By now the passengers (and myself) are getting irritated at the lady, for she is not only holding up the line of paying passengers trying to get in the bus, but also the bus’ time schedule*
Me: “If you need tickets, go to [grocery store] over there and get some new tickets. I cannot give you transfer tickets.”
Lady: “But we are new here and did not know about this!”
Me: “I’m sorry, but I cannot give you tickets—”
Lady: “But the bus driver we were with before was able to print them just fine!”
Me: “So, you did “not know of this”, but still asked another bus driver for tickets? Lady, go to [grocery store] that is literally OVER THERE in plain sight and get NEW tickets.”
Lady: “So, they will give us our transfer tickets?”
At this point I was facepalming so hard that a co-worker who overheard the whole thing just shoo-ed them off and let me get on with my job.

95% of tourists here are absolutely excellent. Then there are the other 5% that just…. >_<

We Have Reservations About Giving You A Reservation

, , , | Right | April 17, 2020

We are a family-run guesthouse and our guests are mostly quiet, foreign couples and families that book months or weeks in advance. While we get the occasional guest from the street, my manager emphasizes that we always request ID and payment up front in such cases. She said that mostly applied to natives, as they are often only looking for a place downtown to party and cause trouble, as we are centrally located.

It is June, during the high summer season, when we are almost always fully booked. A native couple walks in, both probably in their middle or late thirties. They are wearing pretty busted punk-like clothes and smell of cigarettes and alcohol.

Woman: “Do you have a double room for us tonight?”

One of the family owners happens to be near the reception, having dropped off some groceries earlier. I glance at her, and she subtly shakes her head, indicating I should not give them a room. While she’s not the manager, I decide to trust her instincts, as she has worked in the reception for years.

Me: “Uh, I’m afraid we are fully booked tonight; we don’t have any rooms available. I’m sorry.” 

We actually have a few left, but I trust the family owner, this also being my first encounter with the supposedly rowdy locals. The woman quickly gets angry.

Woman: “No, we need a room tonight! We are going to a wedding later today and just flew to the city earlier today. Now our trip is ruined because you won’t give us a room. I can’t believe this!”

Me: “I’m very sorry, but this is the busiest time of the year. All our rooms have already been booked in advance.”

Woman: “What, are you saying the fancy foreigners who book in advance are favored over people from your own country?” 

Me: “Not at all; we serve all equally. The current guests just happened to book ahead of time.”

Woman: “I expected to be able to find a room for us natives without any trouble! What kind of discrimination is going on? We’re not as good as the foreigners?”

Me: “Nationality has nothing to do with this. I understand your frustration, but I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.”

The woman starts getting really loud as she points to the breakfast lounge in the next room.

Woman: “This is ridiculous! See, it’s empty! What sort of a guesthouse doesn’t even have any guests sitting around, huh? Where are all the people?”

Me: *Still calm* “This is where we serve breakfast in the morning, but it’s usually empty during the day. I believe most guests prefer spending their days outside of the guesthouse.”

Woman: “Well, I don’t believe you. Just give us a room!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but like I told you, there’s nothing I can offer you. I’m sure you can find a room elsewhere.”

Woman: “We won’t leave without a room; I know you have one!”

This goes on a little further, with the woman constantly raising her voice and getting angrier. The man with her, however, never speaks; he just stands there looking menacing. The other owner has also stepped in and backed up my claims, but it seems of little use.

While I’m on the verge of telling them to leave, I try instead to keep my calm, a tactic that I find works better on angry customers. After pushing this for a little while, they finally fall silent for a moment and just glance at each other.

The woman then speaks up again, suddenly calmer.

Woman: “Okay, fine. Do you have a phone I can use? I need to talk to my friends.”

She then abruptly bends really close over my desk, reaching for my reception phone. My initial thought is that she is trying to take it with her, so I quickly push it further away. I’m a little taken aback.

Me: “I’m afraid this one is private, but we have a payphone downstairs in the basement that you can use.”

Annoyed, they both walk downstairs and the two of us just sigh deeply, relieved that this is over. But then, the family owner remembers that the door downstairs that leads to the private section is open, as she had just come back from the grocery store and left some bags there to be sorted.

We both get up quickly, but then we see them both running up the stairs and out the front door. We notice that the woman has one of the leeks from the grocery bags in her hand! We just stare dumbfounded after them, thinking there’s no use making a further scene and glad they’re gone.

Family Owner: “Did they really just steal a leek in revenge? I’m glad we didn’t give in. Those were definitely troublemakers; I knew it.”

We then both shrug it off, thinking that’s not too much damage after all. However, shortly afterward, an owner we know from another much smaller guesthouse next street comes in. She’s panting, as if she’d been running.

Guesthouse Owner: *out-of-breath and quite angry* “Hey, did you happen to see a punk-looking couple around here? Older, like thirty- or forty-something years old?”

Family Owner: “Yes! We did! They were here arguing for like ten minutes earlier, because we wouldn’t give them a room. They then stole one of our leeks and ran off!” 

Guesthouse Owner: “Well, they also asked for a room with me, but I was honestly fully booked tonight, so I declined them. They argued with me for a few minutes, but then they went and ripped my outdoors speakerphone right off the wall and dashed off with it! I’ve been running after them, but I can’t find them. They were so fast! I’m going to go out again and look; they can’t have gone far. I will make them pay for damaging my property!” 

We were both stunned but also even gladder that we hadn’t let them in, considering ourselves lucky we only lost a leek in comparison. The other guesthouse owner later told us that she never found the couple and ended up paying for the damage herself. Considering they were capable of such wreckage, we figured that the whole wedding tale was probably just a lie and that they were most likely just some schemers looking for stuff to steal. While a pretty extreme encounter, it certainly made me understand the reservations my owners have!

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