About To Be Dis-Appointed, Part 5

, , , , | Right | February 13, 2021

The lingerie shop I work at is operating by appointment to avoid too many customers being in the store at once. We have it in all our advertisements, it’s presented as a large banner first thing on our website, and it’s posted on our front door as you come in.

Me: “Thanks for calling [Company]. This is [My Name]; how can I help today?”

Customer: “Hi, do I need to make an appointment?”

Me: “Yes, we are asking all customers to book an appointment. When would you like to come in?”

Customer: “Now?”

About To Be Dis-Appointed, Part 4
About To Be Dis-Appointed, Part 3
About To Be Dis-Appointed, Part 2
About To Be Dis-Appointed

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You Want Open? I’ll Give You Open!

, , , , | Right | February 12, 2021

I’m a manager at a convenience store and I have been a cashier for years. Some mornings, I work alone while I wait for my cashier to come in after taking her kids to school. Of course, doing managerial work plus being a cashier takes me all over the store, and most times I have to eat on the clock. Then, I have to go to the bathroom.

What makes me mad is the fact that I put a sign up saying I will be back in five minutes, lock the door, and don’t let anyone in, and people still won’t read the sign, will yank the door so hard I can hear it all the way in the back, and sometimes will bang on it like they’re dying.

One time, a customer just needs the receipt from one of the pumps and starts hitting the door insistently. Mind you, when I’m alone, I don’t take my phone to the bathroom with me so I can get the store opened as soon as possible, but this time, I think what I ate was bad, so I am there a little longer than anticipated.

This guy bangs the door like he is being robbed. When I finally open the door, he’s furious.

Customer: “I want my receipt! Why are you not open? What’s going on?!”

Me: “Well, sir, I had to take a s***. What do you want?!”

I guess people expect us service providers to be robots.

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Insert Several Clapping Emoji Here

, , , , , | Right | February 11, 2021

I am shopping for supplies for a charity I help run. There is one other customer in the same aisle as me: a young woman in a polo and dark pants. Employees of this store wear a different color polo and khaki pants. Another customer turns down the aisle and makes a beeline for the young woman.

Customer: “You. Where are your [product]s? I’ve been all over and I can’t find it. Your store is horribly organized.”

Young Woman: “Oh, I don’t work here, but I think—”

Customer: *Cutting her off* “I insist that you show me where they are, now! I am in quite a hurry!”

The young woman abruptly claps her hands several times, right in the other customer’s face. She looks startled and stops talking.

Young Woman: “Li-sten! I. Don’t. Work. Here.”

Customer: “Uh… but I need—”

Young Woman: “I. Don’t. Work. Here.”

She clapped a couple more times when the customer tried to speak, and finally, the customer slunk off to find someone who actually worked there. I gave the young woman a golf clap and we shared an eye roll before we both got back to shopping.

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Yes, Virginia, There Is A Theater Nine

, , , | Right | February 11, 2021

I’m tearing tickets at the movie theater one day. A man walks up to me with a ticket for an action movie. I take his ticket.

Me: “That’s in theater nine. It’ll be the last one on the right down this hallway.”

Customer: “Thanks.”

I watch the man walk all the way down the hall but then go into theater number eight, which is the last theater on the left and has a completely different movie that’s already playing. Unfortunately, I have a crowd of people waiting to get their tickets torn, so I can’t immediately run down and get him into the correct theater. About a minute later, the man walks back up to me.

Customer: “Some kids’ movie is playing. Which theater is [Movie] playing in?”

Me: “Oh, I’m glad you came back. You went into theater number eight. Your theater is across the hall in theater number nine. It’ll be the last one on your right.”

Customer: “Thanks.”

I watch him walk all the way back down the hall and again walk into theater eight on the left. I’ve pretty much finished tearing tickets for the crowd, so I start to walk down to find him, but he comes out of the theater before I make it down the hallway. He glares at me and shouts.

Customer: “I want f****** [Movie]! Not this kids’ stuff! Which f****** theater is my movie playing in?!”

Me: “Sir… it’s the theater right across the hall from you.”

Customer: “There’s no theater there! You said it was the last one down the hall!”

Me: “Sir, I said it was the last theater on the right side of the hall.”

Customer: “There’s no f****** theater there! Look!”

He turns and gestures right at theater nine.

Customer: “See?! You keep giving me bad directions! You keep—”

He suddenly goes quiet.

Customer: “Oh, I didn’t see that there. Still, you gave me bad directions! I should get a refund! You don’t know how to do your job!”

He finally disappeared into his theater, and I thankfully didn’t see him for the rest of the night.

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You Are NOT Cleared For Landing!

, , , , , , | Friendly | February 11, 2021

Babies on aeroplanes tend to have ear pain during changes in altitude due to pressure changes. Pediatricians suggest feeding them during takeoff and landing as swallowing equalizes the pressure in their ears and stops the pain. I should also note that my son is exclusively breastfed which, while not particularly unusual, is still not the norm in the time when this story takes place.

In the 1990s, I have to fly long distance with my three-month-old son. He dealt with the first long flight with no problem but fussed on takeoff and landing. Our connecting flight is only thirty-five minutes long, so pretty much the entire flight would be changing altitude. I decide to let him nurse for the whole flight to save him any discomfort. 

We get in our seat, with him on my lap with a “baby belt,” and an elderly Southern gentleman sat next to me. As we taxi to the runway, I discreetly lift my shirt and settle my son to feed. We get in the air, and the man strikes up a typical traveler’s conversation about where we are going, luggage problems, our families, etc. It is all fine until we start to descend.

Man: “I hate this; it always makes my ears pop. Do yours?”

Me: “Yes, I have to keep swallowing. It’s not very nice.”

Man: “Your baby is so good; he’s slept through everything.”

Me: “Mmm.”

The man reaches over and gently strokes my son’s head with one finger.

Man: “He reminds me of [His Great-Grandson] with all that hair. He’s precious.”

Me: “Uh, yes…”

I shift my arm to block his hand.

Man: “I can’t believe his ears don’t hurt. I’d have thought it would wake him up.”

Me: “He’s feeding. It helps stop the pain.”

Man: “Oh, do you need to feed him? I can hold him while you get his bottle if you like.”

He reaches over and cups his hand round my son’s head like you would if you were about to hold a baby.

Me: “I am feeding him. Right now.”

Man: “Uh?”

His hand is literally one inch from my nipple.

Me: “I’m breastfeeding him. Right now.”

The poor man snatched his hand back so fast! He was blushing bright red, staring anywhere except at me, and stammering apologies. He was SO embarrassed. I did feel kind of bad, but I thought it was pretty obvious, especially as I’d switched my son from one breast to the other partway through the flight — while discussing flight delays with the man!

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