(I work as a ride operator at an amusement park. Our company has a sort of exchange program overseas; we get international workers to come in and work for the company. I am working an older ride with one of the international exchange employees from Russia. The ride we are working on is based on a popular movie and was made in the mid-1990s. This means that because of the way it was manufactured, some people may have trouble fitting in the ride. The ride requires the operators to push down on a lap bar and then buckle a seatbelt on the side. If someone is too tall, or their thighs push on the lap bar, we cannot close it and therefore cannot let them ride. I am not the strongest person, but I always try my best to let all of our guests at the park ride. My Russian coworker has a bit of trouble speaking English, so he will often use shorter sentences to get to the point. The day in question is hot, and it is near the end of both of our shifts. I have been doing my best to fit people in, often having to use my legs to push down on the bar so I can get people buckled. I don’t want to ask my coworker for help, because I am embarrassed. However, I am having difficulty pushing down one lap bar. If he comes over and pushes, I can buckle it, but it is nearly impossible to do myself. I call him over and he walks up to the car in question.)

Me: “Can you help me push?”

(He looks at the guest and shakes his head.)

Coworker: “Too fat to ride.” *turns around to open the lap bar*

(I was mortified and had to tell the guest that “for their own safety, they could not ride.” Fortunately, the guest was very nice and accepted all of my numerous apologies. Looking back on it, I feel really bad for the guest, but at the same time I find, from a viewer’s standpoint, the entire ordeal amusing. I quit two months later.)

Related:
In Soviet Russia, Accent Speaks You!

(I work in customer service. Today is a particularly hard day for me — difficult customers and the like. All I want to do is grab a sub and get home to watch some TV.)

Employee #1: “Cash or debit?”

Me: “Cash.”

Employee #1: “Okay. Because the debit machine is down.”

(At the cash, [Employee #2] is on the phone with the store owner who is obviously not being any help or offering any direction. Also at the register is a man in his early 40s and his son who is about five. The man storms out with his son in search of cash. I go through the sandwich building process, awkwardly stepping around a family who also need to pay by debit waiting for cash to arrive, very patient, quiet people. It comes time to pay for my sub. [Employee #1] rings it in as [Employee #2] hangs a “Cash Only” sign on the door. The computer freezes at the point that the cash drawer is supposed to open. We stand there for ten minutes making small talk. [Employee #1] is apologising profusely. [Employee #2] is on the phone with the store owner, explaining that people are waiting. Nothing is working. The owner hangs up, offering no direction. The man and his kid come back. The man pushes in front of me, slamming his money on the counter.)

Employee #1: “The cash system is also down now.”

(This is when the man pitches the hissy fit to end all hissy fits. Everything about my crappy day comes flooding back to me. And it occurs to me: they work there but I don’t.)

Me: “What is your problem? They are doing everything they possibly can do.”

Man: “This is f****** ridiculous.”

Me: “Sure. But it’s not their fault. Tell me, what do you think they should do? They can’t give you free food. Their store owner hung up on them. Pull up your big-boy pants and set a good example for your son! Be an adult!”

([Employee #1] and [Employee #2] pool their tips and come up with change. The man storms away, slamming tables out of his way with the child following. To appease this “grown man” child, the employees gave him change out of their OWN TIPS! Teenagers making minimum wage sacrificed to appease an adult driving a fancy truck. Another few minutes pass and finally:)

Employee #1: “Screw this. I am taking the change from below.” *a float of some sort*

(It took roughly twenty minutes to pay for a sub that was now cold and gross, but it was not their fault. I thanked them, reminded them that it was not their fault, and wished them luck.)

Related:
Sub-Standard Behavior

(This story was relayed to my husband by his friend. [Friend] runs an online business through a popular bidding and buy-it-now website; he will go to discount or outlet stores, buy a large quantity of inventory, and resell it on the website. He comes into town to visit us, and along the way, he stops at a chain discount store about 30 minutes from our home. He is often given coupons to this store for 10% off the purchase, but unfortunately, he forgot the coupon this time around. Because of the amount of money he is about to spend, he wants to see if they will still honor the coupon and speaks with a manager:)

Friend: “Hey there. I run an online business and am looking to spend about $4,000 here, depending on your inventory allowances. Unfortunately, I left my 10% off coupon at home; if I give you my phone number or email address, can you look it up to see if it’s still valid and allow me to use the discount anyway?”

Manager #1: “Absolutely! Don’t worry about giving me the details. I don’t need to look it up; any purchase that large is fine by me! Just let me know what products you’re looking to purchase so I can do an inventory check to make sure we have enough for you.”

(The interaction and sale goes smoothly from here, with [Friend] being able to get all of what he wants for a nice discount. As he is leaving, [Manager #1] thanks him for his business and wishes him a nice day. [Friend] then decides to go to another location of this chain a few minutes from our house to check out their inventory before coming over.)

Friend: *goes through the same explanation as he did with [Manager #1]*

Manager #2: “Uh, no. No coupon, no discount.”

Friend: “Really? I was just at the [Location] store and they were happy to oblige. Are you sure there’s nothing you can do?”

Manager #2: “No! I’m not letting you rip us off!”

Friend: “All right, dude, whatever. Have a good day.”

(As [Friend] is leaving, [Manager #2] makes a big show of calling [Manager #1] to relay his “victory,” probably because he thinks friend is lying:)

Manager #2: *on speakerphone* “Hey, man! Get this: guy comes in says he runs an ‘Internet business’ buying and reselling toys and wants me to give him a discount on his ‘big order’ because he ‘forgot his coupon.’ Are these people for real?!”

Manager #1: *on speakerphone* “Oh, yeah! He just came through here not too long ago. He was a really nice guy, and he spent a ton of money. My numbers are going to look great this week! We have a bunch of space now to buy up some new inventory for Christmas!”

Manager #2: *crestfallen, realizing the opportunity he just missed* “Wait, wait, wait. You’re saying he really spent that much money? I thought he was just trying to weasel a discount!”

Manager #1: “Uh, you mean you actually turned him down?! You’re always b****ing that you can never clear your inventory fast enough! Is he still there? See if you can get him back!”

([Friend] has been eavesdropping and is silently giggling to himself as he walks out, and looks back at [Manager #2]:)

Friend: *laughing* “Not on your life, bud. Enjoy all your extra inventory!”

(I have lost my voice. After several days, a doctor’s visit, and lots of meds, I am told to not even try speaking for a couple of days. I am not contagious and I have things to do so I head to the store. I get to the cosmetics counter and try to flag down an employee. The only employee has her back turned to me so I am forced to snap my fingers. Obviously, she looks annoyed when she comes over. I scribble on a sheet of paper and hand it to her.)

Paper: *handwritten* “Sorry, I couldn’t get your attention any other way.” *preprinted* “I can’t talk. I can hear. I need to get [item] in the large size. I don’t need anything else. You can ring me up here or I can go to the main registers, whatever is easier for you. Thanks.”

Cashier: “Oh! Don’t worry about it. I thought you were just one of those customers, but I can’t complain about this. No problem. Let me see if we have it in the large size. I only see it in small but we might have more in the back. Our order just came in.”

(I smile and nod. She comes back.)

Cashier: “Sorry, we don’t have any large ones in stock. We might get more in later this week. So, do you want to wait, get a small one, or get two small ones?”

(I scribble again.)

Paper: “I’ll take one small and come back later.”

Cashier: “Sure thing. I’m going to ring you up here since you don’t want to have to repeat this whole note thing at the registers.”

Paper: “Thanks.”

(We manage to finish the transaction with hand gestures and scribbles. As I turn to leave, a man who has been hanging out nearby rushes towards me.)

Manager: “Look, I’m glad you are finally finished because you are banned from this store. You do not treat my employees like that. Snapping your fingers like they are dogs?! I don’t think so. I don’t ever want to see you here again.”

(I try to hand him the paper I’ve been using but he pushes it away. The cashier has come out from behind the counter and is trying to interrupt.)

Manager: “Get back to work. I’m dealing with this racist.”

Cashier: “Racist? What are you talking about? This lady can’t talk. She apologized for snapping her fingers but I had my back turned.”

Manager: “And I suppose she would have snapped her fingers no matter what race you were?”

Cashier: “If I had my back turned, yeah. She had a note, all the details written down and typed, ready when she got here. Pretty sure she had no idea what race the employee would be before she got here.”

Manager: “Right. You believe that?”

Cashier: “I’m calling [Store Manager] up here. Ma’am, would you mind waiting a second? I need to be sure you don’t get banned.”

(I nod and wait while she pages someone. All the while, the manager is standing there looking smug.)

Store Manager: “What’s up?”

(The manager, who I now realize is an assistant manager, starts on his story. Finally the cashier interrupts and explains.)

Store Manager: “So, what’s the problem?”

Cashier: “There was no problem until [Manager] here decided to complain about the customer communicating in the only way they could.”

(The store manager apologized to me and assured me that he would deal with the assistant. I still have no idea why he thought it was racial.)

(I work at a ski resort. My coworker is a surveyor on the mountain asking questions of guests and how they like the mountain. The questions are on a one-to-ten scale.)

Coworker: “Excuse me, may I ask you a few questions while you’re riding the chair?”

Skier: “Oh, no! Not another survey. I’ve already answered all those long-a** questions and I am not doing it again!”

Coworker: “Okay, well, do you mind if I ask the man sitting next to you?”

Skier: “No! I don’t even want to hear them all over again.”

(A few moments pass by, as it’s a long chair.)

Skier: “So, on a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you that I didn’t answer your questions?”