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Should Have Banned Their Aid

, , , , | Right | September 29, 2017

(I am at the information desk when a customer approaches.)

Customer: “My son tore the plastic covering off this picture book, but we put it back together again.”

(She hands me a picture book with half the plastic jacketing torn off and held in place with at least ten bandaids. The bandaids are attached to the actual cover of the book in some areas where the jacketing is missing.)

Me: “Bandaids?”

Customer: “We didn’t have any sticky tape.”

Me: “Ma’am, we can’t accept this. We can’t loan a book out in this condition.”

Customer: “I fixed it, though.”

Me: “With bandaids. I’ll be entirely honest, if you had just left it we could have re-jacketed the book, but you’ve attached bandaids to the actual cover.”

Customer: “And we fixed the inside, too.”

(I flick through the book to find bandaids holding two lift-the-flap pieces in place.)

Me: “Yeah… I’m going to have to charge you a replacement fee for this one.”

Customer: “Why, though?”

Me: “Because you’ve covered the book in bandaids.”

Customer: “I think it’s fine to read this way.”

Me: “Well, the good news is that once you pay for a damaged item, it’s yours to keep.”

Customer: “I don’t want to keep that! It’s all torn and covered in bandaids!”

Me: “Exactly.”

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Sofa, So Bad

, , , , , | Friendly | September 29, 2017

(My mom has an ad up to give away our old couch. The ad says that we will deliver if you are on our side of town, but that we will not deliver any further than a certain street. She gets this text:)

Text: “I need this couch. I’m at [area of town WAY further than we said we would deliver to], and you need to get it here ASAP because we’re going to church in an hour.”

Mom: “How about instead of us delivering it, you pray at church for patience and kindness towards strangers.”

(She blocked his number, and we gave the couch to a lovely lady who didn’t demand the couch from us!)

Doing A Disservice To Service Animals, Part 3

, , , , , | Working | September 29, 2017

(Ever since I was little, I have always shopped at this dollar club with my mom, but because I have very bad social anxiety, with ADHD and autism, I need to have my service dog with me or I can’t go by myself. I walk into the store with my therapy dog and start looking around for some things. I have a handful of items, and an employee comes up to me and speaks to me.)

Employee: “You need to pick up your dog; he isn’t allowed on the floor.”

Me: “Um… that doesn’t make sense. He’s a service dog?”

Employee: “It doesn’t matter; he can’t be on the ground! You need to pick him up. There’s even a sign outside.”

(At this point I’m starting to panic, because I really can’t stand arguing with strangers. I will do it to defend my rights, but not if I’m going to have a panic attack. Now other customers are beginning to stare. I decide to grab my service dog and pick him up. My dog is a Chihuahua-Dachshund mix and is about the size of a fox, around 14 pounds. I feel embarrassed about picking him up, and I am carrying other things aside from him that are somewhat heavy, and some that I would prefer not to get dog hair on, so I have to set the dog down. Out of frustration, I end up setting all my stuff down and walking out to the front of the store. I get mad when I read that the sign indeed says no pets allowed, but that it also says service animals are welcome, and says nothing about needing to carry a service dog around while in the store. Now irritated, I decide to walk right back in, grab the stuff I had left in a basket and continue shopping. I am approached by the employee again, and immediately, defensively, I say that there is a sign in the front of the store, which she demands to see.)

Me: “See? It says, ‘No pets allowed; service animals are welcome.’”

Employee: “It doesn’t mean you can leave your dog on the ground. It could bite someone. The manager made the rule; why not just put your dog in a cart?”

Me: “He is a service dog. He can’t bite; he’s not supposed to. Do you need proof of that? Actually, let me speak to your manager, because dogs aren’t allowed in carts for allergy and hygiene reasons!”

Employee: “Ugh, what a stubborn child; do what you want. The manager isn’t in right now.”

(I was extremely distressed at this point, about to cry, and I couldn’t help but think how un-freaking-believable this lady was being with me. I could hear some people who were staring, talking about how I was being a spoiled brat about my dog not being allowed inside the store, or how I was self-entitled. I was emotionally exhausted, I felt embarrassed, I wanted to cry, and I wanted to go home. I bought my stuff and walked out. On my way home, though, I called the store and spoke to the manager about what happened. He offered his apologies, but that still doesn’t make up for all the embarrassment I suffered at that store.)

Doing A Disservice To Service Animals, Part 2
Doing A Disservice To Service Animals

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OCD About Fakes

, , , | Working | September 29, 2017

(I have OCD, and I have a habit of folding whatever notes I have in my hands in half, then in half again. The manager who is serving me is taking so long that I have already done this by the time I pay.)

Manager: *taking the note and looking at it* “This is fake.”

Me: “Really?”

Manager: “Why else would you fold it like this?”

Me: “OCD?”

Manager: *scoffing* “Sure. Try a better excuse next time. Got any real money?”

(He handed the note back, which I promptly unfolded and returned to him. He stared at it suspiciously, before getting a verification pen and practically colouring the entire note in before finally accepting it was real. He refused to speak to me after that, and walked off before I could even say, “Thank you,” when he handed me my receipt.)

A Hurricane Of Inconsideration

, , , , , | Right | September 29, 2017

(My coworker and I are at the area where we park strollers for our attraction. It’s the day before Hurricane Irma is supposed to hit the town, and the park is just absolutely dead. We have some guests, but not many.)

Me: *to a couple of people coming toward us* “Good morning! Please head down to your left!”

Guest: “I know it’s terrible that these catastrophes have happened, but they’ve really opened the gates for us! No lines!” *heads down to the left*

Me: *turns to my coworker* “Did she really just say that?!”

(Apparently the prospect of people losing their homes and their lives was fine if this woman didn’t have to deal with lines at a d*** theme park.)