Ah, Democracy

, , , , | Right | October 10, 2017

(It’s the day of the 2016 elections. I’ve just arrived to work.)

Me: “Hey, [Supervisor]. Do you want me in the lobby or the drive-up?”

Supervisor: “Your choice!”

Customer #1: “Hey! You cut in front of me!”

Customer #2: “You just told the teller you weren’t ready! I am ready, so I will go first!”

Customer #1: “You dodo bird. Must be a [Presidential Candidate] voter.”

(The entire lobby goes quiet and looks at [Customer #2].)

Customer #2: “You know what? I’ll just come back later.” *calmly walks out*

Customer #1: “So entitled and arrogant. I just know he’s a [Candidate] supporter. Did you know they’re trying to rig the voting machines? Ha! Like anyone in this area would vote for [Candidate].” *walks out, still talking to himself*

Me: “Ah… drive-up. I pick drive-up.”

Supervisor: “Yeah, I think I’ll join you.”

Coworker: “HEY! Don’t leave me alone up here! This city has turned into crazy town!”

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You’re Chalk And They’re Cheese(d Off)

, , , , , , | Right | October 10, 2017

(I work as a parking enforcement officer for a police department while I’m attending college. One of my duties is to enforce the three-hour time requirement in a parking lot. As my partner and I are marking tires with chalk, a lady pulls in and parks her car, but instead of going to shop, she stands there and watches us. When my partner marks her tire, she leaps in her car and drives to a different spot, causing the mark to be erased. She sits in her car and flips us off and waits until we leave. Before we go though, we snap a cellphone picture of her car parked in the marked spot, making sure to catch the spot number and the license plate. Three and a half hours later, we return and ticket her car as well as several others. As we’re leaving, the lady comes rushing out, furious.)

Lady: “Excuse me! Why was I given a ticket?”

Partner: “This is a three-hour lot, ma’am, and you’ve been parked here for nearly four.”

Lady: “No, no, no! I moved my car when I was on my lunch. I work at [Store nearby].”

Me: “Do you have a local work permit exempting you from the three-hour rule?”

(The city gives these out for free as long as the worker can prove employment.)

Lady: “No! Why would I get one of those? You guys should just know that I work here and not ticket me!”

Partner: “I’m sorry, but we have no way of knowing that without the permit.”

Lady: “You need to take the ticket back; there’s no chalk mark.”

Partner: “Oh, no, we didn’t chalk your tire. We took a picture of your car parked in that exact spot at [time she parked].”

Lady: “Oh, really? What spot was I in and what’s my plate, then?”

Partner: “[Spot number] and [plate number].”

Lady: “F*** you both! You guys aren’t supposed to catch on to me. I specifically waited for you guys to chalk my tire so I could park here all day!” *storms off, mad*

(My partner and I shrugged at each other and moved on.)

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All Opinions Matter, But Some Matter More

, , , | Right | October 9, 2017

(I work at a public library at the front desk, checking out books to patrons. I’ve seen many different characters, but this guy takes the cake. It’s a relatively busy Friday afternoon and I’ve just finished serving a few people when an older man in his 60s approaches me. He doesn’t have any books with him, so I just assume he has a question or two. It’s important to note that we have a “teen night” once a week, and they often help create displays to put up in the library.)

Me: “How can I help you?”

Man: “I just wanna say, it’s nothing against you or the staff here, but I’m really disappointed that the library would choose to support this ‘Black Lives Matter’ nonsense. I can’t believe you support that racist and violent propaganda! You really have to take that display down!”

(I just stand there in shock as he continues to rant about “violence propaganda,” and how “people in the United States are killed because of this movement,” and other unnerving things. As soon as he stops to catch his breath, I jump at the chance to offer to get my manager.)

Me: “I can go get my manager for you right now, if you’d like to complain.”

Man: “I’m not making a complaint; it’s just my opinion. It looks like some kids did that display so maybe they don’t know, but the staff should know better! It’s disgusting!”

(I ran and grabbed my manager anyway. After hearing another rant, she told him that the circulation staff don’t have any voice in what displays the library chooses, and offered him a meeting with our branch manager, who is the head of our library. He refused and left. My manager said after he left, “For someone who was so offended and wanted us to do something, he sure left quick!”. It’s been a few days and I haven’t seen him back. Hopefully, I won’t see him again.)

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Compassion Does Not Register

, , , , | Right | October 9, 2017

(I work at a clothing store, and am working on a new shipment at the back counter when I start to get double vision and can barely stand. My manager comes from the back. I tell her, we call an ambulance, and she goes to the back to print my register sheet. A customer has been shopping right next to us the entire time. She walks to the register and looks at me where I am now sitting and trying not to pass out. She tells me she is ready. I get up, stumble to her, stand in front of the register, and stare at her for a good two minutes, still trying not to pass out.)

Manager: *coming from the back* “What are you doing?! Sit down!”

Me: “I think she’s ready.”

(After the customer has left.)

Manager: “Wasn’t she listening to us the whole time while we called an ambulance for you?”

Me: “Yup.”

Manager: “I hate people.”

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They’re Vibrating On A Different Frequency

, , , , , , | Working | October 9, 2017

(I am in a novelty store, looking for a cheap vibrator as a gag gift. I’m in my 50s and the clerk is probably about 20. The clerk comes up with a smirk on her face, obviously expecting me to be embarrassed.)

Clerk: *said in the most condescending voice possible* “Can I explain anything to you? I know someone your age might not understand these.”

(Now I don’t have a lot of f***s to give. I stopped worrying about what people think years ago. I start picking up vibrators and explaining to her the pros and cons of each one. Loudly. She is turning redder and redder as several boys her age stop to watch.)

Me: “But I don’t buy my vibrators here. I go to [Store #1] or [Store #2]. These are cheap pieces of crap, but I want it as a gag gift. But I know people your age may not understand all of this. Can I explain anything else to you, honey?”

(I bet she doesn’t try to embarrass middle-aged people any more.)

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