You’re All Just Numbers To Them

, , , , | Romantic | January 17, 2018

(I am talking to a guy on [Dating App]. After a good while of talking:)

Guy: “Wow! We have so much in common. You are the perfect woman. Smart, beautiful… May I ask what your height is?”

Me: “Sure. I’m 1m, 53cm tall.”

Guy: Awww. Almost perfect. Oh, well, I usually like taller women, but I can try to overlook your defect.”

(I obviously tell him off and never speak to him again, until, on a different social media platform:)

Guy: “Hi! I saw your pictures and I think we have a lot in common. Can we talk and get to know each other?”

(Is he for real?!)

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This Joke Has Gone To Pot

, , , , , , , | Related | January 17, 2018

(Our cousin has a job that causes him to move to new areas quite often. His latest contract is in an area close to my brother’s home, which is currently unoccupied, due to my brother’s health, so he moves in.)

Mother: “So, you know [Cousin] has moved into [Brother]’s home? Well, he’s growing drugs.”

Me: “What?”  

Mother: “He’s growing pot.”

Brother: “Oh, for God’s sake, he’s growing pot plants.”

Mother: “Yes, pot plants.”

Brother: “He’s growing plants in pots: herbs and vegetables.”

Mother: *with air quotes* “’Herbs.’”

(She was only joking, but in the worst possible taste; [Cousin]’s older brother died due to an overdose. A joke like this getting back to his parents would devastate them. She couldn’t understand why neither of us found it to be funny.)

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Those On Last Shift Get The Last Word

, , , , , , | Right | January 17, 2018

(The store I work at is closing at the end of December. I’m particularly stressed about it, since the same thing happened to my previous job only a few months before, and I am still trying to find somewhere else to go. This is, of course, the perfect time for my least favorite regular, a forgetful old lady with two dogs, to come in.)

Regular: “Oh, hello! Why do all these signs say, ‘Everything must go’?”

Me: “Well, the store is closing soon, so we’re liquidating. Just so you know, because of the generous discounts, you can’t use coupons anymore, and all sales are final.”

Regular: “Oh, okay. So, what are the sales?”

(There are sale signs posted on literally everything, all within about two feet of each other, so I point them out and explain and let her go on her way. She and her dogs stay for hours, and she keeps piling things on the back counter like it’s her personal cart. I remind her each time that she is not allowed behind the register and she continues pushing past me. Eventually, she finally checks out, a process which takes almost half an hour because she’s forgotten the sales and I have to explain them to her again multiple times. She also haggles on every item and gives me a ton of “no”s, but then asks me to hold them for her until tomorrow. Finally, she leaves, because she claims her dogs are getting overwhelmed. I think that’s the end of it until she actually comes back the next day, bag and receipt in hand.)

Regular: “Um, hi, I think it was you who helped me yesterday? I don’t know. I bought this pin.”

Me: “Yes, that was me. What about the pin?”

Regular: “Well, you see, on my way home, I was messing with it a little bit, and one of the stones fell out.”

Me: *ready for the crap-storm* “Oh, that sucks. I’m sorry.”

Regular: “You’re not going to ask me if I want to return it?”

Me: “No, because as I explained yesterday, all sales are final and we can’t accept any returns.”

Regular: “But it’s broken!”

Me: “It’s not broken because of us, so we can’t do anything about it. It broke after you left the store because you mishandled it.”

Regular: “Fine! God! Let me see my holds!”

Me: *pulls out the basket we set aside for her yesterday*

Regular: *stats pulling out items one by one and throwing them at me* “Then I don’t want this! I don’t want this! I don’t want any of this!”

Me: *getting beaned in the face by a sharp pair of earrings* “Then don’t buy them, and leave the store now.”

Regular: “How dare you?! I’m going to have you fired!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’ve effectively already been fired; all of us have. Our store is closing.”

Regular: *on her way out* “Good! You’re the reason they’re closing your store!”

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Time To Send Him Back To The Ranch

, , , , , | Right | January 16, 2018

(A customer comes to pick up his to-go order.)

Me: “Is there anything else I can get you? Napkins? Utensils?”

Customer: “I want ranch.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll just go get you some.”

(I go and fill two to-go ramekins.)

Customer: “I want more than that.”

Me: “How much more?”

Customer: “I want two of those soup cups full.”

Me: “They’re sixteen ounces each.”

Customer: “So?”

Me: “We will have to charge you.”

Customer: “WHY?”

Me: “Ranch isn’t a condiment; it’s a dressing. I’m not even allowed to give you the two smaller ones I just poured for you without charging you.”

Customer: “This is highway robbery!”

Me: “Do you get free bottles of ranch at the store?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “How is it any different here?”

Customer: “I want to talk to your manager! You’ll lose your job; I’ll have you fired!”

Me: “Over ranch?”

(My manager comes over. Needless to say, she tells him the exact thing I just told him. He threatens to call corporate.)

Manager: “They’re going to tell you the same thing, sir.”

Customer: “So, are you going to give me my ranch?”

Manager: “Have you paid for it?”

Customer: “No.”

Manager: “Well, if you haven’t, and you don’t intend to, you’re not getting ranch.”

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Give Them An Inch And They’ll Take A Smile

, , , , , , | Right | January 16, 2018

(I work in a small pet store in London. I’m the manager, so I have a fair amount of discretion when it comes to keeping customers happy. A semi-regular comes in with a broken water bottle that she wants to return.)

Customer: “See here? It’s just snapped, and I only bought it recently. Here’s the receipt.”

Me: “That should be absolutely fine. I actually have some bottles coming in tomorrow and we can do a direct swap.”

(I look at the receipt and see that it’s from two months ago.)

Me: “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, but you bought this in May and our returns policy only extends to 30 days.”

Customer: *suddenly turning nasty* “But it’s not like I used it every day! And you can see it’s snapped; that’s clearly a factory error!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

Customer: *screeching now and heading out the door* “That’s fine; you’ll just never see me again. I’ll never shop here again!”

Me: *panicking slightly* “It’s fine, ma’am; I’m sure I can make an exception in your case!”

Customer: *all smiles again* “Oh, fantastic! Right, so, I’ll see you tomorrow! Bye!”

(She left, leaving me totally surprised by her complete turn around. I looked down at the receipt again and realized it was not even for the same d*** product! Bullied and conned by a little old lady in one transaction!)

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