Well, SOMEONE Is Making Too Much Noise

, , , , , | Legal | July 24, 2021

I’m working from home when I hear a knock on the door.

Woman: “Your music is too loud.”

Me: “What?”

Woman: “Your music! I can hear it down the street!”

I strain my ears and I can just about hear the small Bluetooth speaker I have playing upstairs. It’s playing light rock, so it’s not as if it had swearing in it.

Me: “Look, it’s not loud and it’s not offensive. I’m allowed to play music.”

Woman: “No, you’re not! I don’t want to hear it anymore!”

Me: “Yeah, I have work to do.”

I shut the door and go back upstairs. I can see her dramatically waving her phone about and I’m pretty sure she is filming me. I ignore her, figuring she must be one sad, miserable individual to be like this.

Eventually, I get another knock at the door. It’s the police.

Policeman: “We’ve had a noise complaint. Could we have a chat?”

I invite them in and show them the tiny speaker I have been using. I show them that it couldn’t be anywhere near as bad as they’ve been told. I offer to give them copies of the CCTV, but they decline.

Policeman: “Thank you for your cooperation. I don’t see any reason to pursue this any further.”

Me: “What about the old woman?”

He thinks for a while and then sighs.

Policeman: “I will go around to speak with her. She has been raising complaints all summer. If she comes round again, tell her to speak to me, Officer [Policeman].”

He leaves and I think the matter is over, but a week later, I get another knock on the door. It’s her again.

Me: “What?”

Woman: “I told you your music is too loud. I called the police and they told me that they would arrest you if you did it again!”

Me: “Really? You mean Officer [Policeman]? I spoke to him, too, and he told me something very different!”

She goes white as a sheet and her mouth drops.

Woman: “Well, yes… Well, I… It’s still too loud!”

She scuttled away in a hurry. Thankfully, I didn’t see her again and got to work in peace.

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Some Quick Tips On How To Get Rejected

, , , | Right | CREDIT: NeedyNeuroticBaby | July 24, 2021

I work at a pizza chain, and I am the closer for the lounge. This table of two guys comes in and immediately one guy starts hitting on me. He asks for my number every time I go to get refills for them. I go to my bartender every time and bring it up. It gets so obnoxious and annoying I actually ask one of the other servers — gay, flamboyant, and not working at the moment — if I can hand his number to them. I don’t end up doing that because they will get the wrong idea and they know where I work.

Finally, I bring the table their bill. The guy asks once again while he’s using the machine to pay.

Guy: “Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

Me: “Yeah, I do, actually.”

Guy: “Oh, well, if you didn’t, I’d give you a tip.”

Big. Fat. Zero. Tip.

His friend actually made a comment when he said that.

I don’t understand. I was clearly not interested before; I’m definitely not interested now. Also, I am working. It’s my job to be nice to you; that does not mean I am flirting.

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Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 9

, , , , , | Right | July 24, 2021

I work as a cashier in an organic-focused grocery store. Because of the health crisis, my store has large plexiglass barriers separating cashiers from customers. Masks are required. Many customers bring in their own bags rather than using our paper bags, but we are no longer able to touch them or bag them. Customers have to do it themselves.

I’m autistic. It’s not severe and I’m fairly good at masking when needed, but I’m awful at reading people and situations, and I’m even worse at figuring out what to do if someone doesn’t tell me very specifically what they want.

An old woman with one of those personal carts comes through my line. She has her personal cart folded in one of our store carts. She’s a semi-regular and always has that cart with her, even though she can hardly lift it out of the store cart.

She struggles to get it out, so much so that the customer behind her rushes in to help her while I’m scanning the old woman’s items. She has her own bags and knows she has to bag herself, but she doesn’t. She just lets them pile up.

Me: “Do you have a store card?”

Customer: “No.”

She stands by the card reader and waits until I’m done. When she’s done paying, she finally goes over to bag her items.

She only has a few bags, so she tells me to use paper bags for everything else while she packs her large insulated bag as heavy as she possibly can. The bags I pack are much less heavy. Suddenly, when trying to load them into her now unfolded personal cart, she looks like she’s about to drop over with the insulated bag in her arms. She struggles with that bag and then puts it down. She then reaches for one I packed and acts like it’s even heavier. Suddenly, she starts yelling.

Customer: “I’m ninety-three years old!

Me: “Okay, so… do you want to empty that bag out a bit?”

She doesn’t answer, and she eventually manages to shove it in her cart. By this point, I don’t really know what to do. She acts like all the bags are insanely heavy, so I start pulling stuff out to lighten the paper bags. She’s not answering any of my suggestions.

I lighten some of the bags to try and make it easier on her. All the while, she’s grumbling about how stupid I am.

Customer: *Scoffs* “Stupid girl. I’m ninety-three!”

Then, despite all her whining about how heavy the bags were, she starts emptying the bags I lightened and puts heavy items in the heavy bags she already shoved into her cart. She crumples the paper bags, or rips them, and tosses them onto my register.

Customer: “Hey, you didn’t ask me if I had a store card! I didn’t get my discounts!”

Me: “I did ask you. You said no.”

Customer: “And you made the bags too heavy! I’m an elderly woman!”

Me: “I didn’t pack your cold bag. I even lightened the bags I packed when I saw you struggling. Do you want any help out to your car?”

Customer: “No! I’m waiting on a taxi!”

Finally, she grumbled and walked away. I had just started covering a coworker’s thirty-minute break when the woman came through my line, and by the time my coworker came back, I had only gotten through four people total.

Related:
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 8
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 7
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 6
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 5
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 4

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It’s Hiding In The Back Along With All The Animals

, , , , , | Right | July 24, 2021

I work in the gift shop of a theme park and open farm. The business is connected to a working farm, and when I was a kid, there used to be a farm shop selling produce, etc. This disappeared years ago; by the time I started working there, it had been closed for four years. Two years into my employment, a customer comes in.

Customer: “Hello, I’m looking for the farm shop. Has it moved?”

Me: *Brightly but apologetically* “I’m really sorry, madam, but I’m afraid the farm shop actually closed about six years ago. We still sell local honey and a few other things in here.” *Gestures*

Customer: *Suddenly affronted* “But I was in there last year! Why has it closed?!”

Me: “I’m afraid it would have been longer than that. I can only assume it wasn’t profitable.”

The customer just blinks at me and walks out, grumbling that it must have closed recently. My manager overhears the conversation, and after the lady has left, turns to me.

Manager: “Does she think we’re hiding it somewhere?”

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A Non-Influencer And Their Non-Influence

, , , | Right | July 24, 2021

I’m coming into the store where I work to get some groceries. A guy is hassling my boss about an e-cig that won’t take a charge.

Boss: “Sir, we can’t give you a replacement because it’s no longer in stock.”

Customer: “I have fifty-thousand subs on my blog and I’ll make sure they don’t shop at the store anymore!”

I chime in.

Me: “This location has been open since the 1960s and will probably be around long after he is dead.”

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