Hasn’t Done Math Since The Fifties, Or Changed His Attitude, Either

, , , , | Right | January 2, 2019

(I am doing an exchange for a gentleman, and once the receipt prints I hand it over to him. I am male.)

Customer: “The f*** is this? You’re ripping me off! I should have gotten more back! I want your manager!”

(I call over my manager, who is a short, young woman, and explain the situation. She is a very blunt person and very good at math, so I know she can figure out what happened)

Manager: “May I see the receipt, please?”

Customer: “Who are you? I wanted a manager!”

Manager: “And you got one; let’s see that receipt and figure this out.”

(I grab it off the counter and hand it to her. After just a few seconds of looking at it, she figures it out and explains how everything worked out, that the amount he got back is correct. She even shows him with the calculator the simple math she used to solve the confusion.)

Customer: “How the f*** do you expect me to trust a woman with math stuff? This is a joke that you are management here!”

Manager: “If I can’t do math because I am a woman, then what is your excuse, exactly? Tell you what; you grab a second-grade math book and double check my formulas, and give me a call if you need a tutor to get you through it. Until then, you have a wonderful day.”

(The customer leaves with a very red face.)

Me: “How do you put up with stuff like that?”

Manager: “The secret to success is to not give a f*** what people say you can and can’t do, and to relish the looks on their faces when you prove them wrong.”

Expecting Millions But Only Got 132

, , , , , , | Related | December 29, 2018

(I am about eight years old. It is about nine am on a weekend morning and I am still in bed, half-asleep. Suddenly, both my parents barge into my room, waking me up.)

Dad: *eagerly* “[My name]! Quick! What’s 11 times 12?”

Me: *utterly bewildered and slightly terrified* “Wha?”

Mum: “Come on, [My Name]! 11 times 12! What is it?”

Me: *hesitantly* “132?”

Mum: “See? She knew it!”

Dad: “Yeah, she would have gotten it.” *leaves the room with my mum*

Me: *completely baffled*

(I found out later that they were watching “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire,” and one of the contestants had gotten to a very high round but, to my parents’ astonishment, ultimately lost because he couldn’t figure out what 11 times 12 was.)

They’re Not In The Upper Percentile, Part 2

, , , , , | Right | December 18, 2018

Me: “All right, your total is $10 and with your 20% off coupon, your total now comes to $8.”

Customer: “What?! But I thought that coupon would take off, like, half the price!”

They’re Not In The Upper Percentile

Breaking Bad At Math

, , , , , | Learning | December 15, 2018

(I work as an assistant in a high school, helping in classes with kids who need extra assistance. On this day I am in a math class, assisting a freshman boy who isn’t one of the students I am assigned to; because of his immaturity, he tends to spend class time joking and goofing off and then needs help catching up. I am walking him through a problem when he suddenly interrupts with one of his jokes.)

Student: “I don’t need to learn math; I’m going to be a drug dealer and make mad bank!”

Me: *without missing a beat* “Oh! Well, then, you definitely need math; how else will you know who owes you money?”

(The look on his face was priceless, and he and I got along just fine for the rest of my time working in that class. He was failing at the start of the year but later went on to get a passing grade!)

Fighting For “Equals” Rights

, , , | Right | December 11, 2018

(I am cutting fabric at the fabric counter, and I call for the next number to be served. A woman approaches with a bolt of faux fur, which is currently 40% off.)

Customer: “I would like one yard, please.”

(I scan the label on the bolt. Note: the original, non-sale price listed on the bolt is $14.99. We always let the customers know what the price is and if it’s on sale before we cut, in case they were planning on using coupons, etc.)

Me: *with my usual chipperness* “Okay, it’s $8.99 a yard, and it is on sale today!”

Customer: *suddenly scowling* “No, that’s not right. I thought you said it was on sale?”

Me: “Yes. It’s $8.99 on sale, normally $14.99.”

Customer: “It’s supposed to be 40% off!”

Me: “It is—”

(Before I can finish, she storms away, mumbling about finding the section to check the sale sign. She walks to the fur aisle, with the 40% off signs posted, and marches back, looking even more perturbed. At this point, I’m thinking perhaps she’s confused about what the original price was.)

Me: “Ma’am, $8.99 is the sale price at 40% off; it’s originally $14.99.”

Customer: *looking at me like I’ve just told her the earth is flat* “No, that’s not right! That’s too much!”

(She pulls out her phone to piddle on her calculator while I pull up the calculator on my hand-held and re-calculate it multiple times, coming up with the same figure. When I show her, she still doesn’t believe me, and smugly shows me her phone calculator.)

Customer: “See?! It should only be $5.97! You’re wrong!”

Me: “That’s not 60% of $14.99. Fifty percent of $14.99 is $7.50 if you think about it, so it would have to be more than that.”

(She starts punching numbers into her phone again. I’m biting back frustration and looking for a pen and a piece of paper to go full-on School House Rock on this lady and draw a diagram or something. Suddenly she stops and her face falls flat as she looks at her phone.)

Customer: “Oh. I see. I had, uh, just forgotten to hit the ‘equal’ button. Whatever.”

(I went on to cut her fabric without mentioning another word about it, and resisted the urge to bang my head on the fabric counter.)

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