Know When To Hold ‘Em And When To Fold ‘Em

, , , , , | Right | March 22, 2018

(I work on the tills at a well-known cheap clothing shop in the UK. I am packing the clothes that a customer has just bought into her bags.)

Customer: “No, no, stop that at once!”

Me: “What is the problem?”

Customer: “You’re packing that bag too haphazardly! My clothes will be wrinkled and ruined when I get them home!”

(At this shop, we are literally trained in how to pack bags to ensure that the clothes are folded neatly and the heavy items are on the bottom and the light ones are on the top. I have been following this training to the letter. I start to pack the bag exactly the same way as I was before, just slower.)

Customer: “There. That’s better! You’re actually folding the clothes now!”

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Some Superheroes You See Outside The Movies

, , , , , | Friendly | March 12, 2018

(Waiting for my bus in the pouring rain after having a terrible day at work, I see a little boy across the road, dragging his mum down the street, shouting excitedly.)

Little Boy: “Hurry up, Mum! I want to see the superheroes and tell them what I did today.”

Mum: “I’m going as fast as I can. Which one’s your favourite?”

Little Boy: “I love them all. They’re my bestest friends in the ever!”

Mum: “Okay, we’re nearly there, sweetie.”

(The little boy and his mum stopped in front of the war memorial. The little lad was jumping up and down shouting, “Hello!” His mum started reading the names off, and the little boy kept repeating them telling them that he went to school for the first time that day. I cried.)

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Not Address-ing The Issue At All

, , , , | Working | March 8, 2018

(I’ve recently moved address and need to get it changed with my bank, so I phone up.)

Bank Worker: “Hello, how can I assist you today?”

Me: “Hi. I need to change my address that’s associated with my account, please.”

Bank Worker: “Okay. Do you have the special four-digit code you need to change the address?”

Me: “No. I didn’t know I needed one. I know all my security questions and everything; will that not work?”

Bank Worker: “No. We can only use the four-digit code to change addresses on the system.”

Me: “Okay. How do I get one?”

Bank Worker: “We send you it in the post.”

Me: “You send it? But I’ve moved house. I’m no longer at the address you have on record.”

Bank Worker: “Okay?”

Me: “So, how do I get a code?”

Bank Worker: “We send it to your address.”

Me: “So, let me get this straight: I need a special code to be able to change my address that will get sent to the address that I’m no longer living at?”

Bank Worker: *pause* “Yes.”

(Facepalm.)

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They Pay Twice As Much, Which Is Half As Much As You Deserve

, , , , , | Right | February 11, 2018

(I am the shop assistant in a secondhand store. A customer is buying a lampshade and seems dissatisfied with the price.)

Me: “Okay, that comes to £1.50, please.”

Customer: “That is not worth the money!”

Me: “Er… Excuse me?”

Customer: “The lampshade is not worth £1.50!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I cannot change the price. You don’t have to buy it if you don’t want to.”

Customer: “I want it. I’ll pay £3.00 for it.”

Me: “But that is not the price. You’ll be paying double for it.”

Customer: “I know. It is worth much more than £1.50! I always pay what an item is worth!”

(She then dumped the money on the counter, grabbed the lampshade, and walked out of the shop. I decided to put the extra money in the charity donation box on the counter, as this was easier than trying to explain why we were an extra £1.50 up!)

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Fixing For Something Else

, , , , | Right | February 9, 2018

(I’m working the security gatehouse at a TV production studio. A “supporting artist” for a new TV show walks up to the metal pedestrian exit gate, presses the release button, and waits. This is a metal gate with no electronic parts, plainly not automatic.)

Me: *leaning out* “Hi there! You need to pull the gate open after you press the release button, please.”

Extra: “It’s not working!” *points at the gate*

Me: “I’m sorry; it’s not automatic. It’s a door you have to pull open yourself.”

Extra: *thumping the release button* “It’s not working. Look!”

(I sigh, walk outside, move her gently aside, push the button, and pull the gate open for her.)

Me: “See? You just push the button, then pull the gate.”

(She walks through to leave, then turns around angrily.)

Extra: “It’s broken! You should get that fixed!”

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