I worked in retail for five years in a neighborhood of filthy rich people who thought the world was their oyster. Every few months, we had a coupon sale in the store for a coffee brand that is very popular here. I drink it every morning. The coupon made it substantially cheaper than what it would cost without it. And naturally, people flocked to the store and bought it every day the sale was going on.

There was one woman who would come to the store and shamelessly present me with three coupons for three containers of coffee. We only allowed one use of the coupon per customer.

She was so determined. We would tell her no every time. So, she would take just one and then come back in the afternoon after a shift change to buy the rest.

It’s like she needed it.

I remember how we used to joke about how it was so embarrassing for her to do it. What was so special about that coffee that she bought so much of it?

We never knew, and at some point, she stopped coming at all.

Now, after working for eight years in the high-tech industry and writing code for a living, I’m sad to say I have become just like her. When there’s a sale on that specific coffee brand, I purchase multiple of them. The difference is that I mobilize other people to buy it for me: my mom and a friend from work.

Working in retail was the best thing I did in my life to understand how to talk to people. Thank you again for all you do for us, retail workers!

I work as a service engineer for laser cutting machines. (I previously submitted this story.) We got a call from one of our clients who owned a very old machine, saying that one of the hydraulic motors of the machine had stopped working and they needed our help.

When I arrived, I learned that the full story was that the motor started leaking, and the team operating the machine tried disassembling it to find the cause, couldn’t, and then reassembled it incorrectly. It took me a while to figure out how to assemble it correctly (as no schematics were available for years) and to find the leaking gasket that needed replacement. This gasket was something they could manufacture and install on their own once they got a sheet of the proper rubber — which they didn’t have at that moment so it could not be done on the spot — since it didn’t actually require the full disassembly they unsuccessfully tried earlier.

I then went to the production manager to inform him of my findings. As I was on my way out of his office, I overheard him calling the manufacturing team about an incoming work order for the laser cutter. I turned back in.

Me: “I’m sorry, but are you planning to continue using the machine before that gasket is replaced?”

Manager: “Of course.”

Me: “You can’t.”

Manager: “What?! Why?! I thought you said you repaired the motor, other than the leak!”

Me: “I did, but it’s still leaking. You can’t work like that.”

Manager: “What do you mean? We worked with that leak for weeks before we tried to sort it out, just topping off the hydraulic fluid once in a while! And nothing happened; as you can see, the motor runs fine!”

Me: “You… worked like that for weeks?”

Manager: “Sure. Without issue.”

Me: “Without issue with the motor maybe, but have you noticed the puddle underneath the machine?”

Manager: “So what? The guys just mop it up now and then. It’s not like it could damage anything.”

Me: “The machine cuts by means of a laser beam that heats metal enough to vaporize it, with white-hot metal droplets ejected downward, right?”

Manager: “So?”

Me: “And for several weeks you figured it’s a good idea to let it do it next to a large puddle of flammable hydraulic fluid?”

It took him a moment to realize that only by sheer luck did they not set the whole machine on fire.

From that call onward, I made certain to always make it perfectly clear to the clients, in cases where their machines can PHYSICALLY work despite certain issues, that doing so may result in catastrophic damage — even when the risk should be very obvious to anyone with a basic understanding of the machinery.

Related:
A Forklift Load Of Attitude

I had a small leak in one of my tires, requiring a refill every week or so until I had the time to get it fixed. Since this was the same as the interval for refueling, it didn’t bother me too much, until one of those times I stopped at a gas station and the following happened.

The air pumps there were always free to use (since it’s considered a safety issue), and the downside of this was that it was not unusual to see the pump out of order.

I stopped at the pump (which was turned on, as usual), set the pressure, and attached the hose. Only when I couldn’t hear the compressor kicking in after several seconds did it dawn on me that it was not actually functional, and since there was no pressure in the tank, it drained my tire instead of filling it, making it completely flat.

After some swearing, I figured I had just enough pressure left to crawl to another gas station across the street. But, trying to be a decent person, I went to the station’s convenience store to inform the clerk of the issue, so other drivers would not have the same problem.

Me: “Hey, just so you guys know, the air pump isn’t working properly. You may want to put a sign on it or something.”

Clerk: “Oh, we know.”

Me: “You… know?”

Clerk: “Yeah, it’s been like that for a while.”

Me: “And you didn’t think to put a sign, or at least turn it off completely?”

The clerk stares at me blankly for a couple of seconds.

Clerk: “I don’t know. What’s the harm, anyway? Just go to the other station.”

Me: *Dumbfounded* “You are aware of the fact that when the air tank is empty and someone connects the hose to his tires, it actually removes any air they had left in them? I came here with a drivable car, and now I have a flat!”

Clerk: “Oh.”

Me: “…”

Clerk: “…”

And that was that. No apology — I didn’t actually expect one — and a look that was a mix of “So, I was wrong, who cares?”, “What do you expect me to do with that?”, and “It’s still not my problem.”

I swear, some people are not only incapable of doing the bare minimum of their jobs but also of caring the slightest about other people.

I am shopping in a crowded supermarket. I find a few items I am looking for, add them to my cart, and keep shopping.

Not far down the aisle, I see the same type of items at a better price, so I decide to swap them for the items I have already put in my cart. I then leave my cart where it was and walk the short way back to the place where I had taken the original items off the shelves. It’s a maximum of three metres or so.

I start placing the items I’m not buying back on the shelves in the correct places. A store manager is walking by.

Store Manager: “Ma’am, what are you doing?”

Me: “Oh, I saw similar items a little down the aisle that I decided to buy instead, so I’m just putting these back where they belong.”

He looks stunned and starts absolutely GUSHING:

Store Manager: “Oh, wow, ma’am, thank you so much! It’s so incredible that you’re putting the items back instead of leaving them in some random place in the store for an employee to find and return to their place! Thank you so much, really!”

I’m pretty sure he was gushing partly to make an impression on the other customers, because clearly, my (responsible) behavior was outside the norm, but I think I made that poor man’s day by taking less than ten seconds to make his job just a little less awful.

It still shocks me when I’m in a store with a friend and they decide to just leave something in a random place and say that it’s someone’s job to pick up after them.

My husband is several years older than I am, and while he has a bit of a babyface, he also has a substantial amount of gray hair.

We’re waiting to go on a test drive for a new car. My husband has his head down as he’s looking for something on his phone. The employee walks up to us and asks to see my driver’s license.

Then, he turns to my husband.

Employee: “Young lady, will you also be driving today?”

Husband: *Looks up* “I’m a man, and yes.”

Employee: “Oh, I’m so sorry. And can I ask how old you are? Because if you’re under twenty-six, the insurance doesn’t cover it.”

Husband: “I’m forty-five.”

The employee goes to sort out the paperwork for the drive, and I go to the restroom. While I’m gone, the employee returns.

Employee: “Where did your mom go off to?”

Husband: “You mean my wife?”

Employee: “Your… mom.”

Husband: “My wife!”

Employee: “No, really… Your mom, right?”

Husband: “No, really. My wife.”

Employee: “Erm… okay.”

The employee later apologized profusely for thinking that my husband wasn’t a man, but not for thinking that I was old enough to have a forty-five-year-old son.