Trying To Bottle-Neck The Economy

| Sao Paolo, Brazil | Working | February 19, 2015

(We are having a barbeque, but have run out of beer. My friend and I pick up a plastic box with 24 returnable 20-oz bottles in the car’s trunk and head to a bar near the house. In Brazil, we don’t usually have dedicated liquor stores; we can buy beer at markets or bars and get it to go.)

Me: “Hi! Do you have cold beer? I’ll need 24 bottles of [Beer].”

Cashier #1: “Sorry, buddy, my stock just ran out of [Beer]. You can check at the other bar, just across the street.”

(There is another bar, at EXACTLY the other side of the street. An advertisement outside the bar says ‘[Beer] only R$2.50 per bottle.’ The cashier of the second bar sees me crossing the street with the plastic box packed with empty bottles. He has the beer I want, and I have a guaranteed 24-bottles order.)

Me: “Hi, there! Your friend across the street said you have cold [Beer]. I’ll have 24 of them, please.”

Cashier #2: “Sure! It will cost R$2.70 each.”

Me: “Whoa… it says R$2.50 at that poster outside…”

Cashier #2: “That’s for small quantities. For large quantities it will cost more.”

Me: “Shouldn’t be the opposite? You should give me a wholesale discount!”

Cashier #2: “No. For large quantities, I’ll charge a little more. That’s the way it works.”

(The man was clearly trying to get some advantage from a drunk.)

Me: “Yep, you are right! I don’t want 24 beers anymore. I’ll take just one.”

(The man handed me one.)

Me: “Thanks. You know what? I think I want another one.”

(The man understands that I will do that 22 more times.)

Cashier #2: “Nah, okay… You win. I’ll give you a discount. R$2.40 each.”

Me: “Thanks… I may be drunk, but it doesn’t mean I am stupid!”

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If Only They Could Hear Themselves

| WI, USA | Working | January 27, 2015

(I am 23 years old and due to some complications when I was younger have hearing loss in my left ear. I do have a hearing aid but it occasionally cuts out if a noise is something that will harm my ear. My hearing aid is a BTE (Behind The Ear) model and i have my hair cut in a fashion to cover it. I have come to the liquor store to buy some drinks to mix for a party I am having. I approach with a cart that has various types of alcohol (about 20 bottles total). The cashier is an older woman who looks down at the cart then up and me and huffs.)

Cashier: *as I reach into the cart to grab the first few bottles to place on the counter* “I hope you have your ID, otherwise you are going to have to put all those back.”

Me: *I grab my ID and hand it to her* “Sorry, I should have got that out first.”

(I go back to grab the bottles. Note my ID is still the ‘underage vertical’ so bars can tell the difference quicker. But it is still valid for five more years.)

Cashier: *barely looking at the ID* “Sorry hun, looks like you are going to have to put it all back. Your ID says you are underage.”

Me: “Umm… If you look at my birthday you will see I am 23.”

Cashier: *she looks closer at my ID* “Still, your ID is invalid. You needed to get a new one after turning 21.”

Me: “It’s still valid until 2019. I do not need to renew it until then.” *I continue to unload my cart*

Cashier: “Fine, then.” *she starts to ring me up then says* “If you can pay for all this crap.”

Me: “I am sorry, did you say something?” *the beeping of the register caused my hearing aid to cut out*

Cashier: “Do you have enough money to pay for this? I don’t want to bag everything just to have to put it all back.”

Me: “Yes, I have enough; I have been saving up for it.”

Cashier: *continues to ring me up* “You shouldn’t be drinking this much alcohol, you know. It makes people stupid.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Cashier: “Alcohol makes people do stupid things.”

(I ignore her comments for the remainder of her ringing me up, and am not focused when she mentions the total.)

Me: “I am sorry could you repeat the total, please?”

Cashier: “I thought you said you had enough money.” *she says with a sly grin*

Me: “I do. I just didn’t hear you.”

Cashier: “Kids these days don’t listen to a thing people say. I said your total is [total].”

Me: *I open my wallet* “You said the total was [total]?”

Cashier: “Yes, gawd, are you deaf?”

Me: “Half actually.”

Cashier: *looking at me quizzically* “What did you say?”

Me: *flipping my hair behind my hearing aid, then grabbing the amount in cash out of my wallet* “I said that I am half deaf. You should be nicer to customers, and never assume anything based on age or appearance.”

Cashier: *deer in headlights look* “Here is your receipt…”

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Good Wine Is All Gravy

| Denver, CO, USA | Related | December 22, 2014

(My mom and I are at a liquor store buying wine and beer for Christmas. I have finished paying for my purchases and am waiting for my mom. My mom puts two bottles of her favorite red wine on the counter. The wine label has a large rooster on it. It’s been a long week, and I’m pretty tired.)

Me: “Is that the red wine? The… the chicken wine?”

(I’ve said this loud enough for the whole line to hear me. My mom and the cashier stare at me. The cashier looks like he’s trying really hard not to laugh.)

Cashier: “Yep. It’s the chicken wine.”

Mom: “The chicken wine. Good one, dear.”

(She finishes paying for her wine.)

Mom: *to cashier* “Have a nice evening. I hope we were able to provide you with a little bit of amusement.”

Me: “That’s what I’m here for!”

Just Telling It Like It Is

| FL, USA | Right | October 13, 2014

(Two customers approach the counter, the first being a tall, bald man and the second being an elderly lady.)

Customer: “Hi. I’m every customer ever, and I have a bunch of stupid questions and unreasonable demands.”

Me: “Hi. I’m every employee ever, and I present a negative attitude as well as an unforgivable ignorance of both the products my employer sells and how to conduct myself civilly with other human beings.”

Customer: “Like an idiot, I have approached you with no idea what I want. But I nevertheless expect you to keep your full attention on me while I waste your time.”

Me: “That’s fine. I’ve already tuned you out and began to sing the theme song to Duck Tales to myself in my head as you bring us collectively closer to death without having accomplished anything meaningful.”

Customer: “Regarding [liquor], I will now proceed to barrage you with questions about it that either you have no way of knowing, or which I should already d*** well know the answers to.”

(I hand him a bottle of the liquor he mentioned and start to ring it up.)

Me: “I respond to your worthless questions with vague and unsatisfying responses, as my cranial faculties are occupied with lewd and lascivious irrelevancies. That will be [price], you personification of the downfall of western civilization.”

Customer: “I object to the price quoted, even though it is clearly indicated on the shelf behind you, and suggest some sort of extortion on your part, undoubtedly fueled by prejudice towards some aspect of my appearance, race, culture, or creed.”

Me: “Although mentally I am most certainly questioning your intelligence, parentage and/or upbringing, I merely offer transparently insincere apologies.”

Customer: “I proclaim in brash and vulgar terms my dissatisfaction. I make a laughable and grandiose claim of my own importance, such as being a millionaire, the brother of your company’s CEO, or perhaps the good old-fashioned ‘Do you have any idea who I am?’ I further suggest that I could have you fired effortlessly and fully intend to do so for the insufficient quantity of butt-kissing you have exhibited toward me over the course of this transaction.”

Me: “I sadly inform you that my superior is not present on the premises and unhelpfully refer you to the company help line. Quietly I memorize the details of your face so that I can fantasize about committing acts of unspeakable and grotesque violence toward same at some later date.”

(The customer begins walking out the door.)

Customer: “Vague and impotent threat to your person and questioning of your sexual orientation!”

Me: “Sarcastic suggestion to have a nice day!”

(He walks out the door. The old lady behind him looks thoroughly perplexed by our exchange.)

Old Lady: “Who was that?”

Me: *shrugging* “My manager.”

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Driving On Booze Control

| Princeton, NJ, USA | Right | September 9, 2014

(I work at a liquor store, and we have one major rule. If you appear to be under 30 you MUST have your ID on you unless you are accompanied by a parent or guardian. If you do not have your ID on you no one in your group is allowed to purchase alcohol. Two guys come into our store together and start making a ruckus. The one guy looks about 23 or so, but the other can’t be 17. They’re yelling up and down the aisles to each other looking for something to purchase. I greet the two of them and start scanning their items. I ask for their IDs.)

Customer #1: “Here you go.”

Me: “Thanks.” *pointing at Customer #2* “I just need to see your ID as well.”

Customer #2: “I don’t got mine.”

Me: “Okay. Is it in the car or something? I need to see both of your IDs because you came in together.”

Customer #2: “Why? I didn’t come in here with him. We met up outside and walked in together.”

Me: “Let me get my manager. He’ll be able to sort this out for you guys.”

(My manager comes over and I explain to him that the one has his ID, but the other guy doesn’t. My manager reiterates the store policy. As this is happening, Customer #2 hands a $5 bill ‘stealthily’ to his buddy.)

Customer #1: “We’re friends from work! We ran into each other inside. Why am I getting denied service because I happened to run into him and happened to get in line with him at the same time.”

Manager: “Well, if that’s the case why did he just hand you money and try to walk out towards the door?

Customer #1: “I had asked to borrow some money! This is b******t!”

Manager: “I’m sorry you feel that way, but that’s the law. For all we know, you’re about to purchase alcohol for a minor, and we could get fined for that.”

Customer #2: “That’s racist! You’re refusing to sell to us because we’re [race]!”

Manager: “No, sir, that’s not why. I just told you why I’m refusing service.”

Customer #2: “Well, if that’s the case why didn’t you card that baby in the other dude’s line over there?”

Manager: “Sir. Think about what you just said. Do you really think that baby is really going to drink anything in that cart?”

Customer #2: “Whatever. I’m calling the cops. You’re going to be arrested for being racist. You racist son of a b****!”

Manager: “Okay. I can wait. I’ll just tell them that your pal just tried to purchase alcohol for a minor.”

(With that they walked out of the store, screaming and ranting, and wound up kicking over one of the basket returns by the exit, never to be seen since.)

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