I happen to be in London during New Year’s Eve. I decide if I’m ever going to do the big fireworks thing, this will be the time, so I get tickets for the show. You have to get there about three hours early for your designated spot on the river.

I’m standing there, waiting for the show, when I notice a man and woman next to me. It kind of looks like he’s leaning into her as she speaks into his ear, which makes sense since there is some loud music. But then, I realize he’s using her HAIR as a scarf to protect his face from the cold, as it’s cold and we are getting a breeze from the river. I feel terrible for him since there are about two hours until the show.

Me: “Hey, man, do you want to borrow my scarf?”

Man: “No, that’s okay.”

Me: “Okay, if you’re sure. Can I ask why you don’t have a coat?”

His girlfriend gives me a look that says, “Oh, we have so been over this,” that makes me laugh inside.

Man: “Well, I thought we were going to a club after, and I didn’t want to carry around a coat.”

I let a little more time go, but he starts to shiver. I start unwrapping my scarf.

Me: “Are you sure that you don’t—”

Before I can even finish the sentence, he grabs the scarf out of my hands.

Man: “Yes, please!”

He used the scarf until the end of the show and then we wished each other a happy new year. Sir, if you are reading this, please know that I smile a little whenever I think of this story and it reminds me to be a little kinder to everyone around me.

I am part of a team of five women. We are close, often do things outside of work, and have a group chat together.

One of my coworkers leaves to find a new job and her replacement is friendly, albeit a bit strange. This happens after she has been working at the office for about three months. 

I managed to burn a hole in one of my favourite shirts and I’m griping about how it is years old and I won’t be able to find a replacement just like it. My new coworker laments that she also has a favorite shirt, which she is wearing, but if she could, she would purchase several of the same because she loves it so much.

A few weeks pass, and I am browsing an online shop on my break. I see an exact copy of her favourite shirt. I call my new coworker over and show her. 

Her reply?

New Coworker: “That’s ugly! I’d never wear anything like that. You have no fashion sense.” 

My team looked at the screen and then back to our new coworker.

She was wearing the exact same blouse — her supposed favourite. 

She didn’t last long for various reasons, but this encounter still gets brought up years later.

I am now a regular at a well-known sandwich chain, and I am impressed with how they deal with customers not wearing masks. They simply ask, “Do you need a mask?”

The first time I saw this, the customer said, “No, I have one,” and put it on. It was a great way to deal non-confrontationally with a maskless customer.

But on another occasion, while I am waiting for my coffee, I see them hand a mask to a customer not wearing one. He then walks up to the counter and starts ordering WITH THE MASK IN HIS HAND! At this point, the server has probably done all she’s allowed to do to get him to mask up. He’s way closer than a metre from her and there are no screens.

Me: “Put the mask on.”

Customer: “I am just—”

I think he is going to say that he can’t because he is busy ordering.

Me: “PUT THE MASK ON!”

He finally put it on. Seriously, it’s not that complicated.

A few years ago, a couple of friends and I go on holiday to London. While the flight itself and the customs have been pretty normal, once we are on the way to the city, my friend starts to have a pretty heavy nosebleed. While it’s managed pretty well, it’s still enough to make him look a bit pale; we decide to postpone lunch and get straight to the hotel so that he can rest and recover a bit.

We three enter the tiny hotel’s lobby, and I can already see the receptionist’s eyes widen.

Receptionist: “Um… do you guys need some help? Water? A towel?”

Bleeding Friend: “That would be nice, yeah… Where I can get it?”

The receptionist points to the dining room downstairs, which my friend wobbly descends as he tries to avoid scattering any possible blood droplets. The receptionist then turns to me and my other friend.

Receptionist: “Do I need to call 111? Or is he full of coke?”

Other Friend: “Beg your pardon?” 

Receptionist: “Just be honest with me. I won’t tell the police if he’s high; I just need to know in case he starts acting weird. I wouldn’t want to wrestle him down.”

Other Friend: “Uh… No, he’s not?”

Me: “Sorry, but you’ve never met somebody having a heavy nosebleed?”

Receptionist: “You don’t have to hide it, just—”

Other Friend: “Just what? He’s got blood leaking down his nose, for what reason I’ve got no idea. Can we please move on?”

Receptionist: “I don’t want to deal with him if he goes ape-s***, okay? I’m not his buddy or his tamer.”

Me: “Do you want to check us in, or do you want us to go take our business elsewhere?”

He sighed and let us do the check-in process. During our stay, the cleaners opened up our doors a couple of times without warning while we were in the room. While it was likely an honest mistake, I can’t help but suspect that the receptionist was trying to catch us in the imaginary act. Seriously, though, is it hard to believe you can get a natural nosebleed?

Related:
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 8
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 7
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 6
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 5
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 4

I am working in a small English village pub. We’re not the fanciest, but we do quite well.

I am serving a regular when I’m interrupted.

Man: “Excuse me! I was here before that man! I deserve to be served first.”

The man he is referring to has been sat at the bar for two hours, so his statement is unlikely.

Me: “Sorry, I didn’t see you there. What can I get you?”

Man: “What red wines do you have? Do you have rioja or chianti?”

Me: “Unfortunately, we don’t sell rioja, chianti, or pinot noir by the glass; we do sell it by the bottle. If you only want a glass, we do have merlot, shiraz, pinotage, and a malbec.”

Man: “I’ll have a pint of [Italian beer], and I’ll go and ask my wife about the wine.”

Me: “Sounds good!”

I pour his beer and he comes back a few minutes later.

Man: “I’ll have a glass of the pinot, please.”

Me: “We don’t sell pinot noir by the glass. Did you mean the pinot grigio?”

Man: “That’s what I said!”

Me: “Are you sure? If your wife wants a red wine, she might not be happy with—”

Man: “Just get me the sodding wine!”

I pour the wine and take his money. A few minutes later, a red-faced woman comes to the bar.

Woman: “What sort of idiot mixes up a pinot grigio and a pinot noir?!”