The Battle Of The A**es

, , , , | Right | January 22, 2020

(My husband and I go to a large chain hardware store to look for gardening supplies. The associates at this store have bright orange aprons with the company’s name on the front. I am wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a black T-shirt featuring a certain smart mouth antihero. We are in the outdoor gardening section when my husband leaves to use the restroom. A moment later, a woman comes through the doors. We nod to one another and she goes on shopping. I begin wandering around, looking at different plants, when the same woman comes up beside me. Again, I nod at her and smile before going back to my browsing. Then, I hear her huff. I assume I am in her way so I step to the side.)

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Woman: “Are you done?”

Me: “No?”

Woman: “I need that ceramic pot.” *points to a large pot on the top shelf*

Me: “Um, I don’t know if they have a ladder or you need someone else to go up there or… I… I… really don’t know.”

Woman: “Of course, you need a ladder!” *points to a ladder at the end of the aisle*

Me: “Okay, then.”

(I turn to walk away when she grabs my arm and spins me back around.)

Me: “Excuse me?!”

Woman: “Are you going to get that for me?”

Me: “Um… no.”

Woman: “What do you mean, no?”

Me: “I mean, no, I’m not climbing up there to get a pot for you.”

Woman: “Yes, you are!”

Me: “Look, lady, I don’t know who you think you are but—”

Woman: “I’m a paying customer!”

Me: “So am I!”

(The woman finally actually looks at me and realizes I am not an employee. She marches off to find a real employee and I go to find my husband. I give him a short version of what happened — “This lady just got mad because she thought I work here!” — and we go on shopping. On our way out of the store, I see the woman in the parking lot just a few parking spots over, loading her ceramic pot into the back of her car. Upon seeing me, she points triumphantly to her pot, and then gives me two middle fingers and yells out:)

Woman: “Smarta** b****!”

(I return the gesture and yell back:)

Me: “Better than being a dumba** b****!”

Husband: *confused* “What… what do you do when I’m gone?”

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The Stupid… It Burns!

, , , , | Right | January 22, 2020

(I work for a small-time electrician, doing a wide variety of small three- to five-day jobs. A few months back we were redoing most of the electrical work in a convenience store that had gotten hit by a car. They drove right through the front, leaving a huge gaping hole. When I get there, all the shelves and everything else are pushed into the far back corner of the store. The front is boarded up, and of course, the lights are out. The manager lets me in and hangs about while I do my work — likely for security reasons, so I don’t mind. The store is closed. The front door, remarkably intact, is locked. Someone tries the door. When it doesn’t give, there is a loud crunching noise. I’m at the top of a ladder, and the manager is just kind of hanging out. At the noise, both of us whip our heads around to see an idiot lady literally RIP A BOARD OFF THE FRONT OF THE STORE, come in, and go:)

Idiot #1: “Is the store open?”

(I’ve got wires all around me and I’m halfway into the drop ceiling, just staring at this lady with my mouth hanging open. The manager shoos [Idiot #1] out.)

Me: “What is… I don’t even…”

Manager: “Don’t think about it. The more you do, the more the stupid will burn, and the store can’t afford an insulation fire of that magnitude right now.”

(This was [Idiot #1]. [Idiots #2 – #5] come one by one, close enough together to have literally seen the manager usher the previous person out and re-lock the door behind them, only to have the next one simply move the now-loose board out of the way to get in, instead.)

Idiot #2: “Do you work here?”

(Yes, lady, the eighteen-year-old wiring a drop ceiling fixture is certainly also working the non-existent register…)

Idiot #3: “Hey, I just need one thing.”

(So do I: to be left alone.)

Idiot #4:  “You guys need to fix the door. I couldn’t get it open.”

(How do you breathe and walk at the same time?! By [Idiot #5], the manager finds the darn hammer that he’s been hunting for for the past half hour and hammers the board back into place. We’re leaving for the day, and the manager opens the door to let me out. A lady barges forward, trying to shove her way inside.)

Idiot #6: “It’s about time! You two really need to work on your customer service and… Hey, move!”

(I’m literally blocking the way inside.)

Me: “Lady, the store is closed.”

Manager: ‘We’re going to be closed for a while. You can’t buy anything.”

Idiot #6: *to manager* “I just need one thing.” *to me* “Go get me a [item].”

(I don’t work here. I don’t have to be nice.)

Me: “No. Get out.”

Idiot #6: “EXCUSE ME?!”

Me: “You’re excused. Get out. They’re closed.”

Idiot #6: “Where’s the manager?!”

Manager: “Right here. And I’ll tell you the same thing. Get out. We’re closed.”

Idiot #6: “HOW DARE—”

Me: “I’m gonna just call the cops.”

Manager: “Go right ahead.”

(The lady is sputtering as I reach for my phone. She freezes, stares around at the empty store and the moved shelves, gapes, and then silently turns and walks out. I follow her and the manager locks the door behind us. After the lady silently climbs into her car and drives away:)

Me: “You realize that after we leave, somebody’s going to come and rip the board off again and start yelling for service.”

Manager: “Doesn’t matter. We’ll both be home by then and it’s not going to be our problem. Besides, I’m so out of f***s to give right now.”

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The Discount Is In The Bag

, , , , | Right | January 22, 2020

(I work at a clothing store that sells used clothes, allowing us to constantly have sales with the high amount of clothes in stock. This weekend we are having a sale where you can get 20% off whatever you can fit into a bag. Some customers don’t manage to pick up a bag when they first walk in, so at the register, the cashiers are allowed to give them bags to still receive the discount.)

Me: “Hello! Would you like to use a free bag to get 20% off your purchase?”

Customer: “Oh, no, thank you. I don’t even need a bag.”

Me: *confused by her not wanting a free discount* “Okay, well, your total is [total].”

Customer: “Oh, actually, I do have this flyer you guys gave me last time I was here!”

(This flyer mentions the 20% discount bag, but also doubles as a raffle ticket to get a gift card for the store.)

Me: “Oh, sweet! Sounds good; I’ll put it in the raffle bucket!”

(She pays and leaves the store. About ten minutes later, the woman comes back into the store. There is a long line now and I am helping another customer who also didn’t want a bag. The woman cuts the line to ask a different cashier why she didn’t receive the 20% discount.)

Customer: “I was just in here and—” *makes eye contact with me* “SHE didn’t give me my 20% discount!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, that’s because you said you didn’t want the bag. You need the bag to get the discount.”

Customer: *stutters* “Well, I gave you the flyer! I should’ve gotten the discount with that!”

Me: *shows her the flyer* “Well, actually, this was so that you knew the discount was this weekend. It also had a raffle ticket for you that I put you in for.”

Customer: “I SWEAR! Okay, fine. Y’know what? Fine.” *stomps out the door*

Me: *to my current customer* “Now, are you sure you don’t want to use a bag to get the discount?”

Other Cashier: *turns to me* “I bet she’s going to cuss you out when she gets back in her car.”

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Slooooowly Does It

, , , , , | Right | January 21, 2020

(It’s early in the day and fairly slow. I’m manning the till while my coworker is preparing trays of pizza dough just a few feet away. A man dressed in business attire walks into the shop and approaches my till, endlessly jabbering on his phone. He thrusts a coupon for a free one-topping slice at me, but says nothing apart from continuing his phone conversation.)

Me: *quietly, turning to my coworker* “It’s a policy of mine to ignore customers if they’re on their phone.”

Coworker: “Yeah, me, too.”

(I remain at the till but say nothing to the man, waiting for him to, at the very least, swivel his phone from his face for the half a second it would take to say whatever topping he wants on his slice. But alas, he continues his phone conversation like we’re not even there. I continue to stand in silence, just waiting, for a good three minutes at least, still holding the coupon, and I haven’t touched the order screen at all.)

Me: *turning to my coworker* “Dude, this is getting awkward.”

Coworker: *nods*

(Finally, the man takes a moment away from his super important phone call.)

Customer: “Are we about ready to go here, or what?”

Coworker: “Yeah, we’re just waiting on you.”

Me: “Whenever you’re ready.”

Customer: “Oh, uh, I’ll have pepperoni.” *returns to phone call*

(We made him his pepperoni slice, but we took our time and made sure to put it in the oven that cooks slower.)

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Glassy-Eyed Saleswoman

, , , , | Working | January 21, 2020

(My brother has just moved out to start university when he realizes he has a pot but no lid. He takes the pot to a large department store and asks a saleslady to help him find a lid.)

Brother: “Hi, I need a lid for this pot, but I don’t have a lot of money.”

Saleslady: “This is a very nice lid and it’s only €99.”

Brother: “I was really looking for something cheaper.”

(They go through this a few times until they end up in the €20 range.)

Saleslady: “Okay, this is very popular and only €19.”

Brother: “Oh, but it is glass; I’d rather have a metal one.”

Saleslady: “But glass is much better. It saves energy because you don’t have to lift the lid to check on your food.”

Brother: “But what if I drop it and it breaks? I’d really rather have a metal one.”

Saleslady: *with a disgusted shake of her head* “Men!”

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