Rightly Color Blinded By Your Illiteracy

, , , , | Right | June 26, 2017

(I work at a membership store with an alarming number of people who seem to come in simply to cause a problem and then not purchase anything. I have learned what things to be oddly specific about.)

Me: “All right, please sign your name, sir. When you are finished, just tap the green button that says ‘OK’ on the bottom left corner with the pen.”

Customer: “What if I’m color-blind?”

Me: “…the button that says “OK” on the bottom left corner with the pen.”

Customer: “What if I can’t read?” *his tone starts getting angry*

Me: “Tap the button on the bottom left corner with the pen.”

Customer: “What if I don’t know my left from my right?”

Me: *having given up* “Then that is quite something, sir.”

Customer: “Whatever!” *still mad, he taps the button… with his finger*

Me: “Sir, I said with the pen…”

(He ended up being so angry about the whole thing that he left without his order, his membership card, and his wallet. I took his personal belongings to the front desk and then had to close my line to go return everything.)

Living In A La La Land

, , , , , | Working | June 22, 2017

(I’m conducting a disciplinary meeting with an employee who has numerous customer complaints, late punches, and missed days. His department head is there as my co-manager.)

Me: “I need you to understand that this meeting is your last warning. If you have any issues over the next month, we will be letting you go. Now, we need to look at these write ups one by one, and you will have a chance to discuss each one, okay?”

Employee: “No!”

Department Head: “Are you putting in your resignation?”

Employee: “No, you’re just doing it wrong! You’re supposed to say two nice things for every bad thing. You said something mean, so now you have to give me two compliments.”

Me: “I’m not saying anything mean; we are just reviewing the facts. Okay, the first write up was from your supervisor, and—”

Employee: “I’m not listening until both of you AND [Supervisor] say something nice!”

Department Head: “Okay, this isn’t the point of a disciplinary meeting—”

Employee: *putting hands over his ears* “LALALA! I CAN’T HEAR YOU! LALALA! NOT LISTENING! LALALA!”

(This keeps up for a minute while we sit shocked, then I turn and print out and sign the paperwork that terminates the employee. The whole time he has his hands over his ears and is yelling. He finally stops when security arrives.)

Employee: “You can’t fire me yet! You said I’d have a chance to explain my write ups! This isn’t fair!”

Me: *quietly to the department head* “Lalala, not listening.”

Hanging Themselves

, , , , , | Learning | June 16, 2017

(We are in math class and this one kid is talking. Note that my math teacher has a sarcastic sense of humor.)

Student: *talking and generally being rude*

Teacher: “Well, [Student], if you think you don’t have to pay attention, why don’t you teach the class?”

Student: “Seriously?”

Teacher: “Sure!” *she hands him her keycard and everything*

Student: “Okay, class, so as Ms. [Teacher] was saying…”

(The teacher sat down in his seat, and started playing hangman with us. By now half the class was playing hangman and the other half was chatting to themselves, no one paying attention to the student. That was the best math class ever!)

A Brain The Size Of A Jelly Bean

, , , | Right | June 15, 2017

Customer: “Where are the jelly beans?”

Me: “Jelly beans are right this way.”

(I take her to the candy aisle and show her the selection.)

Me: “Would you like [Popular Brand], or [Store Brand]?”

Customer: “No, those aren’t jelly beans.”

(It’s hard to abide by “the customer is always right” here, because, well… something either IS a jelly bean or it ISN’T.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. Well, can you describe to me what you’re looking for?”

Customer: “Jelly beans. The ones I bought before didn’t come in all those colors.”

Me: “So they were all one flavor, not mixed?”

Customer: “That’s right.”

Me: “I apologize, ma’am; we only carry the mixed ones.”

Customer: “They were bigger than those! I bought them last week!”

(I start to assume there’s some sort of confusion, and begin showing her various gummies: gummy melons, bears, fish, etc. To my amusement, several other guests have begun assisting me in my quest for “jelly beans,” as the customer grows more impatient.)

Customer: “A-ha! I found them. These are the jelly beans, young lady.”

(She has picked up a bag of chocolate candies.)

Me: “They were chocolate, foil wrapped, with the little flag?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Oh, sorry about that. Well, happy holidays, ma’am.”

(She later complained to the manager about my lack of product knowledge.)

When She Gets Home She Will Reign Down On You

, , , , | Related | June 6, 2017

(The summer of 2013 was pretty tough on my family. My dad lost his job and was unemployed for three months (April through July), and when I graduated college in May, I had nothing lined up. I had to apply anywhere I could get some work; this ended up being the local burrito place. Dad no longer had a vehicle as his transport had been the company vehicle, and I had no car of my own, so we were heavily dependent on public transportation. Sometimes my dad would walk up to the nearby bus stop to meet me so he could get some exercise. One afternoon, I called him as I left the shop.)

Me: “Hey, Dad, you walking up to meet me today?”

Dad: “You’re a big girl, honey; I think you can manage it yourself for this time.”

Me: *rolling my eyes but not letting it come through in my voice* “Okay, then I’ll see you at home in about 90 minutes.”

(The bus ride was uneventful, but as we drove, I began to notice the sky getting more and more gray. No worries, I thought, surely I would beat the storm home. I got off the bus at the closest stop to my house (about 30 minutes by foot) — and within five minutes, the sky opened up. My purse wasn’t large enough to carry an umbrella, so I trudged home with the rain soaking me to the skin. When I got home, my father at least had the decency to look ashamed of himself.)

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