Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 4

, , , , , | Right | September 11, 2019

(I’ve just returned from a business trip and I stop at my local dollar store for some snacks. I’m in a terrible mood from being on the road all day but I have been here many times with nothing but friendly service and I am determined not to take it out on the staff. As I’m walking in, there is a woman at the cash complaining to the cashier, but I don’t pay attention. I hear him call for a manager and I see the manager on duty quickly come from the back. I grab some snacks and get to the counter only to have to wait behind this angry customer who is getting a refund, something not normally offered at this store and a process that takes a while. I suddenly tune in to what’s happening and realize this woman is getting a 30-cent refund on her 5-cent plastic bags. Most stores in our province have been charging for bags for a while as per governments regulations. The store gets none of the profits from these bags and has no say over the price.)

Customer: “Look, it’s not that I can’t afford it. It’s the principle of it. You people are always trying to trick us into spending more money and I won’t have it. You don’t even have a sign or anything!”

(She is actually standing next to a five-foot sign about the bags. As she is talking she is aggressively dumping her things out of the plastic bags onto the counter. The clerk looks like he wants to cry and the manager is trying hard to keep it together.)

Me: “Seriously?” *to the manager* “You guys don’t actually keep any of the money from those bags, right? I mean, it’s a government policy. Isn’t it? Most stores in this town alone have been charging for bags for at least a year, if not more.”

Manager: “Yeah, it has to do with the new eco-tax.”

Me: “Right, so it has nothing to do with you guys.”

Manager: *sigh* “No, it doesn’t.”

(The customer can clearly hear me, and I see her face get red before she turns away from me. She finally gets her 30 cents, drops it right back on the counter, and points at the reusable cloth bags the store is selling for a quarter each.)

Customer: “Give me one of those, now.”

Me: *to the cashier after she has paid him and is repacking her now one big bag* “You guys do get the profits off those cloth bags, though, right?”

Cashier: “Yup.” *flashes me a smile*

Customer: “Look, I would rather just pay for a bag.”

Me: “I thought that was the problem in the first place.”

(She finally moves away from the counter to let me check out, but now has to slowly repack her five bags of product into the one cloth bag to carry it out without spilling anything, so she can still hear me.)

Me: *to the cashier* “So, rough night?”

(He smiles and nods. His face still flushed.)

Me: “I’ve been there and believe me, it’s a pain. I used to work here and had to deal with idiots all the time. I had an old guy once fight for fifteen minutes, calling my cashier incompetent, because he misread the price on something and my cashier didn’t read his mind to know he thought it was a different price. You’re going to get those people all the time; they have never worked retail or have never worked, period, so they have no idea how to behave.”

(The customer is now seething while the cashier is finally smiling. The manager is close by watching with a smile. The cashier finishes ringing up my snacks.)

Cashier: “Would you like a bag, ma’am?”

Me: “No, thank you, dear; I brought one in. I’m capable of reading the signs you’ve had posted for the past two months.”

(The lady stormed off carrying her overflowing bag in her arms. For some reason, I felt so much better than when I had come in.)

Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 3
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 2
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage

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Berate For Running Late

, , , , , , , | Working | September 11, 2019

(Part of my husband’s responsibility is unlocking the office in the morning. This means that he has to do his best to be there before anyone else shows up. Normally, this isn’t a problem, because he is very conscientious. One day, however, our little girl decides to throw a tantrum as we are trying to get her ready for daycare, and this delays our departure by about twenty minutes. As I drive us to work, his cell phone starts ringing.)

Husband: “Hello?”

Coworker #1: “Where are you? I’m waiting outside for you to unlock the door!”

Husband: “I’m really sorry. My daughter didn’t want to get ready this morning, so I’m running late. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Coworker #1: “Well, hurry, okay?” *hangs up*

(His phone starts ringing again.)

Coworker #2: “Why aren’t you here yet?”

Husband: “Didn’t [Coworker #1] tell you? I’m running late.”

Coworker #2: “Running late? How long are we going to have to wait?”

Husband: “I’ll be there as soon as possible.” *hangs up*

(His phone starts ringing again.)

Supervisor: “I hear that no one has been able to start work yet because of your tardiness.”

Husband: “I’m hurrying! Traffic is bad. I’ll be there as fast as I can!”

Supervisor: “Well, see that you are.”

(His phone rings again several more times as we are driving, each time from another coworker berating him for being late. By the time he gets to work, he is practically in tears from frustration and misery that he’d inconvenienced everyone.)

Coworkers: “SURPRISE!”

Husband: “What?”

Supervisor: *with a broad grin* “We all waited here and took turns calling you! It was hilarious! *sees my husband’s face* “Um… it was supposed to be hilarious.”

Husband: *unlocks the door and goes to his desk without saying a word*

(His supervisor apologized to him afterward and bought him a coffee. She’d honestly thought that the prank would be funny and felt terrible that they’d upset him.)

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Allergic To Common Sense, Part 16

, , , , | Right | September 11, 2019

(I’m having lunch at a small diner.)

Waiter: “Hello. What can I get you?”

Me: “I’ll have fries, a chocolate shake, and a burger. No pickles or onions, please.”

Waiter: “Are you allergic?”

Me: “No, I just don’t like onions and pickled food makes me gag.”

Waiter: “Are you sure?”

Me: “How often do you have people pretending to have allergies?”

Waiter: “Too often. I don’t get why people won’t just admit they don’t like something.”

Me: “From experience, they either think disliking and being allergic are the same thing or they believe that they’ll get their food faster.”

Waiter: “Yeah, as if we didn’t have to scrub everything and use separate utensils.”

Me: “And makes it harder for people with actual allergies. Anyway, about the food…”

Waiter: “Oh, right, sorry. Coming right up.”

(While I was waiting for my food, in the booth next to me, a father kept saying his kids were allergic to cheese. The kids insisted they weren’t. The guy’s wife returned from the restroom and slapped him over the head. It turns out he didn’t like the cheesy smell and gooey mess.)

Allergic To Common Sense, Part 15
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 14
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 13

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Carting Them Some Of Their Own Medicine

, , , | Right | September 10, 2019

(I am working in the lot at the grocery store, gathering carriages. I have a sore spot for people who leave their carts in random spots — handicapped people and the elderly excluded for obvious reasons. I notice a man putting his cart in the handicap unloading zone, the yellow striped line area for wheelchair ramps and elevators.)

Me: “Sir, in the future, please place your carriage in the designated area.”

Customer #1: “Okay.”

(He and a nearby customer then proceed to mock me.)

Customer #2: *pointing at another carriage* “Look. Another carriage! We have to find out who put it there!”

Customer #1: “We got ourselves a parking lot attendant or something!”

Me: “Sir, I’m just asking you to do that so that other people can park without risk of running into them or having them blown into cars.”

Customer #1: “Nobody’s going to park where I put it.”

Me: *getting fed up with these two* “We let people park there if there are no other spaces, and you still shouldn’t place the cart there.”

(The place is blocked off so handicap people with ramps or elevators have space to get out.)

Customer #2: “Why do you care so much? Just do your job!”

(They continue to mock me, at which point I lose my patience.)

Me: “Don’t quit your day job to become a comedian.”

Customer #2: *suddenly angry* “What did you say?! So, you wanna be a smart-mouthed punk, huh?!” *which is how he’d been acting, ironically* “You know, let’s go talk to your manager! How about that?!”

Me: *a little nervous but keeping my cool* “Okay.”

Customer #2: “What’s your name?” *looks at my name tag* “[My Name], two years, huh? Well, you aren’t gonna make three!” 

(He then drove off, and thankfully, my manager never got a call.)

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Call Ahead, Fall Behind

, , , , | Right | September 10, 2019

(Mother’s Day is by far the busiest day of the year for us. Last night, we already had 31 call-aheads — about 300 people. We do call-aheads and NOT reservations. The way call-aheads work is that the people call however long before they want to come in to eat, and the time they give us, like 6:30, is the time their wait begins if we are on a wait. The system has some algorithm, so if there’s an hour wait, a call-ahead may only wait twenty minutes, but they may wait longer depending on how busy we are and the size of their party, but either way they usually still have to wait a certain amount of time. Call-ahead just puts parties on a priority list and puts them before all walk-in parties. Mother’s Day we have a lot. The wait is about an hour and a half at this point, and a guy comes in to check in for his call-ahead. The first red flag is that she immediately begins with:)

Customer: “We had a reservation.”

(At our restaurant, we call that the “R-word.” We do NOT do reservations, and we are very careful about the word when we speak to customers.)

Me: “Hi! We have a call ahead for [Customer] for six people. I’ll give you this and it’ll be about thirty or so minutes.”

(I hand her a pager. She gives me a very confused look. Two other people are with her who don’t look confused but this lady is just dead confused.)

Customer: “Uh, actually, we had a reservation.”

Me: “[Restaurant] doesn’t do reservations, ma’am. We do call-ahead seating, so you still have a wait but it’s much less than everyone else. The regular wait right now is an hour and a half.”

Customer: “Okay.”

(She walks outside, which is normal for people waiting. Then, she comes back with her husband.)

Customer’s Husband: “We have a reservation. I called last night.”

Me: *explains the call-ahead system again, but he interrupts*

Customer’s Husband: “Yeah, no, I talked to a host last night on the phone and they said they do reservations.”

(I know full well there is no way a host would say that or let him think he was reserving a table. I actually remember him calling, as my closest host friend took his call and had trouble with him trying to book too large of a party so late, so he lessened the party and my friend put it in. There was no mention of a reservation.)

Me: “Yeah, I’m sorry, that should’ve been explained to you when you called, but we don’t do reservations. It is still a thirty-minute wait. As you can see, our wait is currently an hour and a half, so thirty minutes is much less.”

(He says again that he has a reservation. I’m getting annoyed as many people are behind him now waiting to get checked in.)

Me: “No, sir, you didn’t, because [Restaurant] doesn’t do reservations. There’s no way you could have.”

(He says it again.)

Me: “We don’t do reservations. So, no. You didn’t have one.”

(We do this for maybe five minutes. It’s amazing, honestly. I’ve been a host for two years so people don’t scare me anymore. I’m not sure what he thinks he will do by repeating it.)

Me: “Sir, I’m getting you a manager because you are holding up the line.”

(I got a manager. The same conversation happened. My host friend who’d taken their call explained to them and the manager what happened. The guy realized that she was the girl who’d taken their call and got extremely quiet for a bit. But he started up again, anyway. My manager ended up pushing them above everyone else and getting them a table immediately. Ridiculous. But I hope that fool realizes how stupid he is.)

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