A One-Way Ticket Out Of Friendsville

, , , , | Friendly | July 16, 2018

(Every year my family goes on a camping trip. The place where we camp is not too far from an arcade, so on days where we don’t have much planned, my brothers and I go over to play some of their games. One year, I bring my friend along for the trip. The arcade uses a prepaid card, which you fill with money to use on the various games. When you win, virtual tickets are loaded onto your card. We both fill a card and choose which game to play. Immediately, [Friend] chooses a two-player, and I agree. We rush over to play.)

Friend: “This one looks fun! Look, if you get the high score you win bonus tickets!”

Me: “Sweet! Let’s try! I’ll sit…”

(Before I sit down, my friend slides his card on both sides, paying for both of us and basically guaranteeing that all winnings go to his card.)

Me: “Oh… Well, I could’ve paid.”

Friend: “Don’t worry about it. Come on! Let’s play!”

(We both sit, and I wind up forgetting about the whole paying deal. After a few minutes of playing, I realize I got the high score, winning the jackpot. Unfortunately, I remember that the tickets go to my friend’s card. I shrug it off.)

Me: “Let’s go to the prize counter and see what we can get!”

Friend: “Why would you go over there? I got the tickets.”

Me: “What? I won them, though. You paid for both of us, but I’m the one who won the jackpot.”

Friend: “Well, it’s on my card… Whatever. Let’s go.”

Me: “Can I at least pick something out? Those tickets are for me. I won them.”

Friend: “I’ll think about it.”

(We get up to the prize counter, where there are many interesting prizes with varying ticket prices. My friend chooses a skateboard that costs 510 tickets. That’s about the amount that we won.)

Friend: “I want the skateboard!”

Me: “But that’ll use all the tickets. I should choose something; I won the jackpot.”

Friend: *groans* “They’re my tickets! I’ll pick something out for you!”

(I sighed, realizing I most likely wouldn’t win the battle. He wound up getting a slightly cheaper skateboard on the wall. He handed me the prize he chose for me: a piece of candy valuing about ten tickets. He smiled at me and walked away, leaving me at the prize counter, stunned.)

Not Displaying Much Military Intelligence

, , , , , | Right | July 6, 2018

(I work at the reference desk at a public library. A man rushes over to the desk holding a piece of paper.)

Man: “I used to be in the Navy, and I need to send them a fax right away!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we don’t have a public fax machine. The package store on [Main Street] has one that you can pay to use.”

Man: *waving dismissively at me* “No, no, I know how to use the fax.”

(He goes over to our public photocopier, opens the top, and places his paper inside. He presses the green “copy” button, and the machine makes the beeping sound that indicates an error detecting the copy size. He then removes his paper with a flourish and comes back to me.)

Man: “There! The Navy should receive that in a few days! I used to work for the Navy!”

Read The Email; That’s The Ticket!

, , , , | Right | June 21, 2018

(It is a policy at our venue that if you buy tickets online and pick them up in the box office, you must show the purchaser’s ID or the credit card they used, even if they are not present. “So-and-so said I could have their tickets,” is not a valid excuse.)

Customer: “Hi, I’m picking up tickets for [Buyer].”

Me: “Okay, can I see your ID?”

Customer: “Oh, that’s not me. He’s not coming, so he said I could have the tickets.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I need to see [Buyer]’s ID or his credit card in order to give you his tickets.”

Customer: “No, it’s okay; he gave me permission. Here, it’s written right here.”

(He hands me a folded piece of paper through the ticket slot. I open it to find a printed screenshot of an email, the right half of which is cut off so I can’t even read the whole message.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but this doesn’t really tell me anything. I can’t let you have those tickets without an ID.”

(I hand him the paper back through the window.)

Customer: *getting angry* “Look, if you’ll just read it, it says right here. He is letting me have his tickets because he can’t make it.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I have no way of knowing who that email is from or who it is addressed to, and half of it is cut off.”

Customer: *trying to shove the paper back through the window* “Just read it! It says right here!”

Me: “I can’t accept this. You’ll need to get his ID or credit card, or I can’t give you the tickets.”

(He snatches the paper back without a word. I watch as he goes over to the venue entrance and waves the paper in the poor ticket-taker’s face until a manager shows up. The manager takes a look for himself, says something to the customer, and then disappears around the corner and comes into the box office.)

Manager: “Let him have the tickets. That paper is bulls***, but I know the guy who bought the tickets, and I know he ended up not being able to come.”

(I find the tickets and hand them to the customer.)

Customer: “There, see? If you had just read the email this would have been so much easier!”

Breaking Bad Badly

, , , , , , | Legal | June 21, 2018

(I am talking to my boss when a woman says this to one of my coworkers:)

Women: “Hi, this might sound a bit crazy, but you may want to get an officer down here. There is a suspicious container on the street and I’m concerned it may be meth.”

(My coworker relays this to my boss — the owner — and me.)

Boss: “Yeah, we don’t deal with that. You–” *meaning me/senior staff* “–should call the police.”

(I call the dispatch.)

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name] at [Store]. We had a woman report a suspicious container that she is concerned might be meth, so we thought we would call it in.”

Dispatcher: “Yes, I’ll send an officer right down. I need your full name for the report.”

(I begrudgingly give him my whole name, meaning that this whole thing is attached to my name in their system. An officer comes down a few minutes later and I meet him at the back by the container.)

Officer: “This it?”

Me: “Yeah…”

Officer: *picks it up* “If this is meth they suck at it…” *opens and sniffs it* “This is duck sauce; I’m going to throw it away.”

Me: “Okay… Sorry… Thanks…”

(There is a police report with my name that says I reported suspicious duck sauce. Thanks, random lady.)

Well, That’s Food For Thought

, , , , | Right | May 31, 2018

(I’m a supervisor at a grocery store chain. At my store, we sell two different kinds of store gift cards: one that’s open-ended, and one that’s restricted to grocery items only. The open card can be used to purchase tobacco and alcohol, but the restricted card can not. We put refunds onto the restricted cards when the customer doesn’t have a receipt and the refund is over a certain amount, to deter theft. On this day, one of my cashiers had taken a no-receipt refund that needed to be put on a gift card before I got to work, and when I’m clocked in she warns me that the customer was unhappy with getting a gift card and not cash, and that he said he would call to complain. A few hours later, I take a phone call and have the following conversation.)

Customer: “I have this gift card for your store, and it says something on it that I don’t understand.”

Me: “Can you please read it to me?”

Customer: “It says, ‘Not to be used for tobacco/alcohol purchases.’ What does that mean? I can’t buy booze with this?”

Me: “That’s correct.”

Customer: “That’s bulls***. So, I can come to your store and buy anything in your store with this, except alcohol? What kind of gift card is that?”

Me: “It’s a restricted gift card, sir. We have standard gift cards that are open, and then restricted gift cards.”

Customer: “What the f***? That’s stupid. Can I come in and have you approve me to buy alcohol with it, anyway?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but the register will automatically deduct the alcohol from the total when you use the card, leaving you with a cash balance owed.”

Customer: “Wait, you said you have real gift cards, right? Can I buy one of them with this card?”

Me: “No, sir, that’s illegal and also against store policy, anyway.”

Customer: “That’s f****** r*****ed. This card is f****** useless. What the hell am I supposed to do with this piece of s*** if I can’t buy alcohol with it?!”

Me: “Well, you could buy food with it.”

Customer: *silence*

Me: “Sir?”

Customer: “F*** you!” *hangs up*

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