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The Merry Adventures Of Mr. Plow

, , , , , | Romantic | January 12, 2018

(I, a twenty-three year old woman, work third shift at a gas station, alone. It is the first major snowfall of the season and everybody who owns a plow is out there. A guy in his thirties comes in to buy a soda and cigarettes.)

Me: *after I scan them* “Anything else?”

Customer: *handing me the money* “A plowing partner.”

(As I’m putting it in the drawer, I suddenly wonder if he wasn’t talking about clearing snow. I decide to ignore the comment as I hand him his change. Apparently he also rethought his words.)

Customer: “I just realized that might have come off the wrong way…”

(I reassured him I knew what he meant, but that accidental suggestive comment actually made my night.)

Maybe Allowed You To BREATHE, For One?

, , , | Right | January 9, 2018

(As I’m ringing up a customer who is only purchasing a small item:)

Me: “Would you like a bag, sir?”

Customer:Of course I do; I don’t want to be arrested.”

Me: *fake smiles as I put his item in a bag*

Customer: “Why did you ask? Are you required to ask customers?”

Me: “No, but a lot of people either bring their own bags or do not want to waste a bag when they don’t mind carrying their items back.”

Customer: “That’s just preposterous! Why would they do that?”

Me: “Well, it’s just better for the environment.”

Customer: *scoffs* “The environment?! What has the environment ever done for me?!”

(I’m an environmental scientist major.)


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New Year’s Resolution To Cut Back On Coffee Starts Early

, , , , , | Right | January 8, 2018

(I am the customer in this story. It is New Year’s Eve, around 10:30 or 11:00 pm. I have just gotten off a shift at a fast food restaurant and am headed home when I receive a call inviting me to a party. Since I will be working at 5:00 am on New Year’s Day, I don’t want to stay long, and I am too young to drink, so I stop by a different location of my restaurant on my way to the party to grab a caffeinated beverage.)

Worker: “Welcome to [Restaurant]. How may I help you?”

Me: “Hi! Can I please have a [drink]? That will be it.”

Worker: “Absolutely. Your total will be [price] at the first window. Thank you!”

Me: “Thank you!” *pulls up to first window*

(We make small talk about having to work New Year’s Eve. I am still in my uniform.)

Worker: “Okay, I will have your [drink] at the next window.”

(Thinking the conversation has ended, I then speed off — past the pick-up window — and start to turn onto the road when I realize what I’ve done. Luckily there are no other customers in line. I sheepishly drive back to the window to the worker, who hung his head out the window to see where I went, and is now trying to stifle laughter.)

Me: “It’s been a long night. I hope you have a great New Year.”

Worker: “You, too. Have a better night!”


This story is part of the New Year’s Eve roundup!

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Cart That Employee Back To Training

, , , , , , | Working | January 5, 2018

(I am nine months pregnant. My doctor has recommended that I not spend extended periods of time on my feet. I really need to do some grocery shopping, so I go to the customer service desk to see if they have a motorized cart available. The customer service associate is a middle-aged man.)

Me: “Hi, excuse me. Do you have any motorized carts available?”

Worker #1: “No.”

Me: “Oh, okay. Have they all been taken recently? Do you think one will be available soon?”

Worker #1: “Not for you.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Worker #1: “There’s nothing wrong with you; you’ve got two legs that aren’t broken. Go get a normal cart.”

Me: “My doctor has told me it isn’t safe for me to walk around too much. I really need to buy groceries. If there won’t be a cart available soon, I will come back later, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to talk to a customer that way.”

Worker #1: “You can come back later, but I’m still not giving you a cart. You can walk; you’re just lazy.”

(At this point, I’ve had enough. I walk over to another employee.)

Me: “Is your manager around?”

Worker #2: “Yeah, hang on.” *she calls the manager over*

Manager: “Hi! How’s it going?”

Me: “Oh, great. I’m just a little upset because your customer service person won’t let me use a motorized cart.” *the manager looks at my obvious belly and turns white*

Manager: “Jesus! Again?!”

(The manager went to the desk and came back with a motorized cart and a gift card. I could hear the customer service worker shouting about how I was not disabled and didn’t deserve the cart. It turned out, he had done this to several other customers before me, all young people.)

Geographically-Challenged Anxiety

, , , | Working | January 4, 2018

(Due to anxiety, I don’t have a driver’s license, though I’ve been working to overcome it. This means that while my parents are away, my brother has to give me rides to work. It’s Saturday morning, and he’s dropping me off on his way to visit a friend. Suddenly, I start panicking.)

Me: “[Brother], did I turn the stove off?”

Brother: “I’m sure you did.”

Me: “But what if I didn’t? No one’s home. The house could burn down!”

Brother: “You’re being paranoid. You didn’t leave the stove on.”

Me: “Please, we have to check!”

Brother: “If we turn around, you’ll be late.” *annoyed* “Fine! I’ll go back and check after I drop you off.”

(I settle down and get to work on time. Soon after, I get a message from him, telling me that the stove was off. Relieved, I get on with the day. Lunchtime comes, and my manager takes her break. She pops into the break room, then goes into the back office. I think nothing of this, as she often goes into the office during break to talk to her new boyfriend. Ten minutes later, as I’m helping a customer, I smell something off. I run into the break room to find it full of smoke, and a smoldering lump in the microwave. After making sure the fire’s out, I calmly walk past curious customers into the back office.)

Me: “Hey, [Manager]? Just thought you should know, your food has been reduced to a carbon form.”

Manager: *looking up from her phone* “Huh?”

Me: “Your food was on fire.”

(She sprints past me. She had been so distracted by messaging her boyfriend that she set the timer to 40 minutes instead of 4. The store now reeks of smoke and burned food, and the microwave is busted. She buys me lunch, since I now can’t cook my own, and I settle into the back office to eat. I pull out my phone and call my brother.)

Brother: “What’s up?”

Me: “You know how I was freaking out about the stove being on and the house burning down?”

Brother: “Yeah?”

Me: “Well, my boss’s food just caught fire in the microwave. The store is full of smoke.”

Brother: “Oh, my God! Are you okay?”

Me: “Yep. I just wanted to let you know I am not paranoid. I just had the wrong place and the wrong time.”