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You Can Smell The Bad Attitude From Here

, , , , , , | Right | November 30, 2020

I work at a dry cleaners, and we clean the clothes onsite. I’ve worked here for several years, and we have a fairly easy redo policy if the customer is not happy with the result. Unfortunately, the next town over is a wealthy community, and we have to deal with several rude, entitled customers.

One evening, a woman storms in with a sweater. I can see that the paper identification is still attached from when we cleaned it.

Customer: “Smell this! This is not clean!”

Me: “That’s okay; I’ll have them reclean it for you for free. Just sign here.”

Customer: “No, you need to smell this! It’s disgusting.”

Me: “Your word is enough. There will be no charge for us to redo it. I just need a signature.”

The customer thrusts the sweater at my face.

Customer: “I want you to smell this, now!”

Me: “I can’t. I’m anosmic. Now, please—”

Customer: *Cutting me off* “I don’t care what f****** religion you are! You will smell this now!”

Me: “Ma’am, ‘anosmic’ means I have no sense of smell. You could cram a dead fish in my face and I still couldn’t smell it. Now sign here so we can clean this for you.”

She just gave an angry grunt and didn’t say another word to me as she signed the form. I printed her claim ticket, told her when it would be ready, and told her to have a nice day.

It’s A NAR Kinda Day

, , , | Right | November 4, 2020

I’m in a coffee shop. Despite getting enough sleep, knowing full well how to read, and everything else, I still managed to become a typical NAR. I’m absolutely ratting myself out on this one.

I go to pay for my coffee. I look at the card reader to see if there is a note. There is! It says, “Chip does not work, please swipe!”

Cashier: “And that is [total]. Please swipe.”

I insert the chip.

Cashier: “Um…”

Me: “Oh, my God! I am that customer today. I even read that and heard you!”

I take my card out and swipe.

Me: “I am so sorry.”

Cashier: *Laughing* “Your coffee was free today by the way; you had enough points.”

Me: “I still done messed that up.”

Cashier: “To be honest, you have been one of the nicer ones about it. Most would scream at me that it was my fault.”

Me: “I figured that, which is why I know better, and I know this was all on me.”

Cashier: “Here’s your coffee, your croissant will be up, and don’t worry about it. We’re allowed our days.”

Me: “Long as we’re not jerks about it.”

Cashier: “Bingo!”

I continued to have similar interactions all day, somehow being that customer. I promptly apologized and ratted myself out to the cashier every single time. To those cashiers, I’m so sorry. I really should have paid so much more attention, but for some reason, I decided to turn that part of my brain off.

You Can Sweat The Big Stuff

, , , , , | Right | October 4, 2020

I work at a fairly casual restaurant where it is mandatory for everyone to wear masks during the health crisis. It is about ninety degrees Fahrenheit today, which is really hot for where I live. I’m at the end of a long shift, so I am sweating and my face is very red.

I am standing next to an older man who is probably around sixty. He is not wearing a mask. I am a fourteen-year-old girl, which only makes the story creepier. 

The customer looks like he is about to leave.

Me: “Have a good afternoon!”

Customer: “You, too.”

He looks up at me.

Customer: “Wait, where are the napkins?”

It’s a fairly regular question, so I don’t really wonder why he asks despite the fact that he’s about to leave.

Me: “Right behind you, sir.”

He grabs a napkin and then quickly steps forwards and tries to wipe my forehead with the napkin. I instinctively step back.

Customer: *laughing* “Wow, you are beet red! I’m just trying to get some of the sweat off your face.”

He puts his arm on my shoulder and I keep inching backward.

Customer: “Wow, I feel bad for you; you have to spend all day in this heat with a mask on! No wonder you look so red.”

I am still stepping back as his hand is still on my shoulder.

Me: “Heh. Uh, yeah, I guess.”

Customer: “And yesterday must have been much worse; it was so hot you must have been dying!”

Me: “I didn’t work yesterday.”

Customer: “Wow, that’s lucky. Have a good afternoon.”

By this time, somehow we had walked down a hallway just from my inching back. I have no idea why he thought that touching someone’s face with no warning would be okay, especially during the middle of a rapidly spreading health crisis! I spent the rest of my shift being extremely self-conscious of my face.

Purple Raises Some Red Flags, Part 2

, , , , | Right | September 30, 2020

I have natural blond hair, but I dye it black every year. However, the first time I ever did, I also had them put some purple under my hair in the back. With that setup, it was impossible to tell I had a second color unless my hair was up or I showed people.

I have a woman comment on how nice my hair looks while we’re standing in line, waiting to pay for gas. I thank her and then put it up in a ponytail. Apparently, this is a mistake on my part. The customer gasps and puts her hands on her chest.

Customer: “You have an odd color!”

Me: “Well, yes. I like it — something new!”

Customer: “HEATHEN!”

Me: “Really?”

Customer: “You will go to Hell!”

Me: *Whips right around* “May I check your ticket? I’m driving the bus to h*** today and I need to make sure you paid for your seat, madam.”

She turns bright red and storms out of the store. I pay for my gas.

Cashier: “Not the first time?”

Me: “Oh, no. Normally, though, it’s my nose ring that people comment like that about; this was the first time for hair.”

Cashier: “I like it. Your husband said you had another color and that I would have to see it.”

I left the place to find her screaming outside. I just shook my head and got in the truck my husband and I shared and left. Only a little bit of purple in my hair made someone freak out. Wonder what this lady would say now if she saw I have a tattoo and more piercings, and I still dye my hair. I do see her every now and then at the stores. Small area.

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Purple Raises Some Red Flags

Oh, Silly Me. This Is Hand IN-sanitizer.

, , , , , , | Friendly | September 29, 2020

Due to the current health crisis, my five-year-old daughter and I wear masks wherever we go, and I use hand sanitizer. However, due to a reaction the last time she used it, my daughter was deemed allergic to the stuff and I have had to resort to keeping her hands busy while in a store. She’s a thumb sucker, so it can be difficult, but I find that giving her my phone to watch videos on helps, and she washes her hands the second she gets home.

We go into a store where wearing masks is mandatory, and I fix hers on her, pick her up, and put her in the cart. I then give her my phone and get some sanitizer on my hands. Apparently, this rubs one lady the wrong way.

Me: “Okay, remember, don’t touch Mama’s hands. Don’t touch anything other than the phone, and do not put your thumb in your mouth.”

Daughter: “Okay, Mama. Love you!”

Me: “I love you, too, babe.”

Lady: “Hey! Hey! Why didn’t you put sanitizer on her hands, too?!”

Me: “Hmm? Uh… she’s allergic. She had a strong reaction last time she used it and her doctor has agreed with me that it was an allergic reaction.”

Lady: “That’s impossible!”

Me: “Um. No, it’s not. Whether or not such an allergy exists, my daughter reacts to the point of swollen, rashy, and itchy skin. I will not put her through that and she knows the routine by now. I need to do my shopping.”

The lady then steps right up to my cart, and I get between her and my daughter.

Me: “Please back up six feet! There is plenty of room, and it’s clear that you only intend to instigate the situation further!”

Lady: “She needs to have hand sanitizer!”

Me: “She is allergic! And due to that, you will not get any closer to her than what you are now!”

Lady: “Are you saying I’m infected? How dare you?!”

I have caught the attention of another worker, who quickly comes over to diffuse the situation.

Worker: “Hey, [My Name]. Everything okay?”

Me: “No, this lady is— What are you doing?!”

I see that she has hand sanitizer in her hand and has glopped some on her and is trying to get around me. I grab her hand, ruining her gloppy mess and pushing her back. The worker quickly gets a hold of the lady and pulls her away. I have no choice but to grab the cart with one hand and drag it to the hand sanitizer stand where the paper towels are and clean my hand, being sure to once again let my daughter know the rules.

Daughter: “Mama… that lady was weird.”

Me: “I know, hon.”

Worker: “Second time this week. I lost count for the month.”

Me: “It just started.”

Worker: “I know.”

I thanked the worker and got my shopping done. Seriously, I know that during these times, there are measures in place, but if someone really can’t use hand sanitizer, or even a mask, or has to, don’t put them down or try and force anything onto them; there is a reason. Thankfully, my daughter was fine, and the second she was home she washed her hands extra long and happily played with her toys while I washed mine. Some people…