Chocolate Cures All, Part 4

, , , , | Right | September 18, 2020

A man comes up to buy a pair of shoes. These are rather expensive shoes that have a bit of a sale going on. We’re allowed to give a coupon out if they apply for the store’s credit card. I mention this to him, and he happily obliges. I don’t remember if he was accepted or not, but he still gets his 30% off.

Customer: “Thank you very much!”

He proceeds to finish his transaction with cash. At the end, he looks over to the candy bars at the register.

Customer: “Do you have a recommendation for Godiva bars?”

Me: “I personally just like the plain milk chocolate. Nothing really beats simplicity.”

He grabs a milk bar, and I run it through for a second transaction. He takes the bar, wrapping it with the receipt, and hands it to me.

Customer: “For you, since you helped me out with a discount.”

That completely made my day. I’ve kept the wrapper in my memory box since it’s a treasured memory.

Chocolate Cures All, Part 3
Chocolate Cures All, Part 2
Chocolate Cures All

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Days Where You Wish You Could Cash Out Early

, , , , , | Right | September 18, 2020

I am a closing cashier on one side of the store. It’s been a rather slow night, which I generally enjoy. It means either cleaning and organizing around the register or writing out silly little stories on spare paper I have up there. This customer comes out, and I quickly stand at attention, smiling. She doesn’t return it, but that’s something I’m used to.

Customer: “I’d like to pay on my store card.”

Me: “No problem! Let me get that up for you.”

You only pay on your charge card by cash or check while in the store. Credit and debit cards are accepted online. This isn’t usually a problem since many regulars know that by now. I pull up the menu for her to pay on her card. I scan her charge card and then get to the payment screen. She pulls out a credit card and goes to swipe. Before she can, I speak out.

Me: “Ma’am, we can’t accept any credit or debit cards to pay on your charge card with. In store, we can only accept cash or check.”

Customer: *Glares and huffs* “Why not? I don’t have either of those on me! All I have is my credit card!”

Mentally, I count to three before responding.

Me: “The store cannot process a credit paying on a credit. Online, you are free to do so; however, to pay in store, we can only accept cash or check.”

Customer: “Well, is there an ATM in the store?”

Me: “We do not have an ATM. [Large Chain Store] is across the street and would have one.”

Customer: “They’d charge me for it!”

She grumbles to herself about how late it is and her bank is closed, etc. I merely wish her a good night as she storms off. I hope that is the end of it. Half an hour later, here she comes again, coming to me instead of the other cashier. She still looks as huffy as before.

Realizing who she is, I pull up the menu for her to pay on her charge card. She tells me how she had to drive all the way to her bank to use their ATM to get cash to pay on her charge card, making it seem like it was the end of the world. But, lo and behold, what does she pull out? Her credit card, again.

Me: “Ma’am, we still cannot accept credit cards to pay on your charge card.”

Customer: “Haven’t you been listening to me? I said I got cash at the ATM!”

Eventually, from another section of her wallet, not anywhere close to the credit card she had just pulled out, she pulled out cash. I just quickly went through the payment and bid her a good night as she left.

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Really Drumming This One Home

, , , , , | Learning | September 17, 2020

This story starts at the beginning of the first semester of my senior year. I take a music appreciation class that semester which everyone just calls “the Beatles class” because that is the band the teacher focuses on the entire semester. I had this teacher my sophomore year, as well; I took a drumline class with him where he eventually asked if I would join the school band — he was the band teacher. Originally, I was interested in it, but I later changed my mind. He did not like that.

Fast forward, back to my senior year. I miss a test due to a doctor’s appointment. The next day, I go to him to see when I can make it up.

Me: “[Teacher], I wanted to see when I could make up my test?”

Teacher: “Will you be in the [School Production] this weekend?”

Me: “Yes, I will be performing.”

Teacher: “Then don’t worry about the test right now; focus on your performance. Come see me next week to discuss when you can make up the test.”

Me: “Thank you, [Teacher].”

The weekend goes by and so does my performance. It is now Monday morning. I walk up to my teacher to discuss the test.

Teacher: “You have a test that you need to make up!”

Me: “Yes, that’s what I wanted to discuss with you.”

Teacher: “You need to come to see me after school today to make up for your test!”

I do not have my license and can’t get a hold of my parents to pick me up later because cell phones are not allowed.

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I won’t be able to make it up today. Can I take it tomorrow after school?”

Teacher: “Fine.”

The next day after school, I walk to his classroom and find that he has left for the day. He does not mention anything about the test later on and I end up completely forgetting about it. Fast forward again to finals. I am talking to a friend before the bell and the teacher comes up to me.

Teacher: “You have a test to make up in my class. We had a date set and I waited until 4:00 but you never showed up.”

Me: “I was there before 4:00 and you weren’t there.”

I can tell that I’ve caught him on that one.

Teacher: “You will need to take your test after your final.”

Me: “Can’t I take it before my final with [Special Education Teacher I work with]?”

Teacher: “No, you have to take it with me after your final.”

Me: “Okay.”

As you can tell, I was fed up with this and it didn’t make sense to me that I had to wait until after my final to take my test. I finally got my mom involved, who sent him an email to try to get an understanding of what was going on, especially with him refusing to let me take the test with my special education teacher; my IEP states that I get extra time on tests and I get to take my test in a different classroom.

He did not budge with his decision so I finally got my special education teacher involved. He sent my music teacher an email telling him that I would be taking the test in his classroom before my final.

I finally took my test, but because it had been so long since we went over that lesson, I did not know any of the answers. That didn’t matter, though. Just by turning it in that test, it brought my grade up to 95%. Because my grade was 95%, I no longer had to take his final.

I think the thing that annoyed me the most about the whole situation is that it took a male teacher to help me with another male teacher because the teacher would not listen to his female student or her mother. I also truly believe that this was his revenge for me not joining the drumline.

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Unfiltered Story #207936

, , | Unfiltered | September 10, 2020

I came to the table to bring drinks to the two nice 30-something ladies and take their orders. The second lady ordered catfish. I said “Would you like that fried or grilled?”
She suddenly got this weird tone, gave me a glare that bored into me and said
“Look at me. Do I want it grilled?”
I had NO idea what she was talking about. I glanced about awkwardly and said “So, grilled, then…”
When I got to the order station, it hit me. She was an African-American, and I was supposed to just *know*.

The Midwest Will Be Mine, One Big Gulp At A Time!

, , , , , , | Friendly | September 4, 2020

Our family had planned a trip to see family in another state. Unfortunately, my husband had to work so he couldn’t go with us after all.

I was telling a friend in that state that we would have to cancel the trip. Unexpectedly, her husband — a high school friend of mine — volunteered to pick up my sons and me if my husband could drive us halfway there.

We made the switch. My friend and I were chatting as we neared an exit. My middle son asked if we could stop for a bathroom break. We did. As we were getting drinks, my friend whispered, “He’s asked to stop at almost every exit. Is he marking his territory?”

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