To Call It A Scar Is A Bit Of A Stretch

, , | Healthy | December 27, 2017

(I have dislocated my shoulder.)

Doctor: *looking at a mark on my shoulder* “I see you’ve previously had your shoulder operated on.”

Me: “No.”

Doctor: “Yes, there’s the surgical scar right there.”

Me: “No, it’s a stretch mark.”

Doctor: “No, it’s a surgical scar.”

Me: “Unless somebody kidnapped me, drugged me, then operated on me while I was unconscious, I think I would remember surgery.”

Doctor: “…”

(A few years later, I was being examined by a dermatologist, and I told him the story. He said that it did indeed look like a surgical scar, and would I care to come by the hospital during rounds so he could fool his interns?)

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Santa Has Needs That Mrs. Claus Can’t Provide

, , , , , | Working | December 26, 2017

(My credit union coworkers and I are doing Secret Santa. We all have a very sarcastic sense of humor that jives well with the group. [Coworker] unwraps gift to reveal a garment box.)

Coworker: “I wonder what it is…”

Manager #1: *loudly and excitedly* “That’s S&M!”

(Everybody stares at manager with shocked expressions.)

Manager #1: “Right? That’s S&M isn’t it?”

Me: “I sure hope not!”

Manager #1: “What? It’s nice! I go there all the time!”

Me: “We don’t want to hear what you do in the bedroom!”

Manager #1: “I don’t understand…”

Manager #2: “Do you mean H&M?”

(Everyone laughs uncontrollably.)

Coworker: “Oooh! How lovely! A scarf!”

Manager #2: “I guess it could be S&M.”

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Some Doors Shouldn’t Be Open At Christmas

, , , | Right | December 25, 2017

(I work at a pet store as a cashier and have to make the closing announcements, but we let the customers shop for a couple of minutes after closing if they can tell us what they’re looking for. When I finish the announcement on Christmas Eve, a customer immediately approaches the register.)

Me: “Welcome! Find everything all right today?”

Customer: *already incredibly angry* “I would have, but I’m being forced out of here! How could you close an hour early?!”

Me: “I’m really sorry about that. I would love to help you find what you’re looking for. Just remember that it’s Christmas Eve and we’d like to get back home.”

Customer: “NO, THE A** ON THE PA SAID IT WAS TIME TO LEAVE, SO JUST RING ME UP!”

Me: “I’m really sorry about that, sir. I would be happy to ring you up. Do you have our store card?”

Customer: “H***, no! I’m never shopping here again!”

(I realize that it was probably best that I just ring the store card through rather than try to ask him any more questions, plus he can’t leave a bad employee review.)

Customer: “WHAT DID YOU JUST SCAN?!”

Me: “I put the store card in. I don’t want you to miss out on any deals.”

(I scan his items through, and the transaction was luckily uneventful; however, the doors are locked and I cannot let him out because I don’t have keys.)

Me: “Just give me one second. My manager locked the doors after we closed.”

(I page my manager and the customer walks to the doors. After 30 seconds the customer comes back inside. I am at this point terrified; there is something wrong with the customer.)

Me: “I’m really sorry, sir. My manager must be taking out the trash. I’ll page him again.”

Customer: “WHY CAN’T YOU OPEN THE DOOR?!”

Me: “I don’t have the key.”

(The customer says something unspeakably rude and starts waiting at the door again. My manager arrives and unlocks the door. my manager begins sliding the automatic door open manually when the customer grabs the door and pushes it so hard that I could hear it outside the atrium, and runs out the door. My manager tries to close the door, but nothing happens.)

Me: “What are we going to do?”

Manager: “Well, I guess you can go home. I’m stuck here until I can get somebody to fix the door.”

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Two Minutes Of Grief

, , , | Right | December 24, 2017

(It’s Christmas so everyone closes at 5:00 pm. After the initial shopping rush earlier in the day, the store has been dead. Because of this, though usually a stickler for closing times, my manager decides to lock the doors at 4:55. As we are doing our cleaning and closing duties, there’s a rap on the door. As it is now 4:58, my manager allows me to ignore it. At 5:05, the phone rings, and she answers.)

Manager: “Hello, thank you for calling [Store].”

Customer: “Your sign said you were closing at 5:00 pm but I got here at 4:58 and your door was locked!”

Manager: “Oh, that was you? I’m so sorry about that!”

Customer: “I wanted to pick up a present for someone, but your door was locked! I know you people want to get home, but I have things to do, too!”

Manager: “Again, I’m so sorry. If you’re still in the parking lot, we can let you in and let you get your gift.”

Customer: “I’m not.”

Manager: “You’re not what?”

Customer: “I’m not in the parking lot. I’m on the highway. I’m not turning around.”

Manager: “Well, then, I’m really not sure what I can do for you.”

Customer: “I’m just so angry! You shouldn’t have locked up early!”

Manager: “Again, I’m sorry, but if you’re not here there’s nothing I can do for you.”

(The customer hangs up.)

Manager: “Sigh. The one time I decide to close up early, and this happens.”

Me: “Honestly, if she’s shopping for someone’s gift at 5:00 pm on Christmas Eve, they’re not that important to her.”

Manager: “Good point. Let’s go home.”

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The Never Ending Christmas Tree

, , , | Right | December 22, 2017

(It’s Christmas time in New England. I am a short, scrawny, 17-year-old sales associate at a home and garden center that sells Christmas trees. It’s eight pm. I have been outside in the snow selling trees all day since I got to work at eight am. We have already turned off the lights to the tree area and have shut off our illuminated sign.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name], go pull the chain!”

(We pull a chain across the parking lot entrance every night to prevent more people from coming in. I run out across the parking lot, grab the chain, and start pulling it across the entrance when a minivan pulls in going rather fast and runs over the chain, nearly ripping my arms off in the process. A small family gets out. I finish hooking the chain and walk over to them to tell them we are closed.)

Father: “Hi, you guys still open?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, we’re closed.”

(My manager comes outside.)

Manager: “Hello, what can I help you with?”

Father: “We did come here to get a tree but if you guys are closed, we can come back tomorrow.”

Manager: “No, it’s fine. We are closed but if you are just getting a tree, then feel free to pick one out.”

Father: “Thank you so much.”

Manager: “[My Name], help this fine family pick out a tree.”

(I proceed to do the standard sales pitch to help them figure out what kind of tree they want. I ask the price range, full or skinny, tall or short, basically all the questions I normally ask to figure out which tree would be best. I start pointing them at some trees I think they would like but they keep disagreeing or pointing out every small thing about the trees. This goes on for another 45 minutes. They eventually find a set of four trees in our expensive section that they like and decide to choose between one of the four. This starts a debate among the family.)

Me: “Okay, while you decide, I’ll be inside. Come get me when you decide on a tree.”

(I scurry away because I can barely feel my fingers at this point.)

Manager: *obviously frustrated* “What’s taking so long?”

Me: “They won’t pick a d*** tree. They are currently in a debate between four trees. Don’t get mad at me. They are being stubborn and didn’t like any of the trees.”

(They debate for another ten minutes. In this time, my coworkers have left, leaving just me and the manager. Eventually, the father walks in.)

Father: “We have decided on a tree.”

Me: “Okay, show me which one you picked.”

(I follow the father outside and he points at a tree.)

Father: “We have decided on this one.” *he points to a rather large tree that comes out to around $85*

Me: “Nice choice. I’ve been waiting for someone to take this beauty home.”

Father: “Why has no one wanted it?”

Me: “It costs $85.”

Father: “WHAT?!” *turns to his children who have sad looks on their faces* “Okay, I guess we’ll get this one.”

Me: “Would you like for me to wrap it?” *I remove the tree from the stand*

Father: “No, just bring it to the van. [Wife], go pay for the tree.”

(I bring the tree up to the front door of the store which is next to the parking lot and grab some rope that we use to tie trees to roofs. I hand the tag to the wife so she can go pay. I put the tree on the roof of their van and as I’m about to tie it down, the father grabs the rope from me.)

Father: “I’ll do it.” *he begins to tie the tree down*

Me: “You sure? I mean, it is part of my job to tie trees down.”

Father: “No, you probably don’t know how to do it properly.”

Me: *taken back by this comment, because I’ve tied down around 400 trees by this point* “Okay. Have a nice night, and Merry Christmas.”

(I walk inside and get a cup of hot chocolate because I’m freezing. I drink it, shut off the store and warehouse lights, lock up all the doors, and go get my stuff from the office and punch out. This whole process takes about 10-15 minutes. The father is still trying to tie the tree down.)

Me: “Do you want me to go help him?”

Manager: “No, I’ve already tried. You can go home. It’s been a long day. I’m sorry; I won’t let anyone in when the chain is being pulled ever again. This was a mistake.”

(I leave. The man was there for another five minutes but eventually tied his tree down and left.)

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