Grandpa Was A Playa!

, , , , | Romantic | October 1, 2019

(When my grandfather was in high school, he and one of his friends made a bet to see who could take more girls on dates in one month. They both ended up taking out a lot of girls in a short amount of time, and something was bound to blow up in their faces. One day my grandfather and several of his friends are messing around on the boardwalk and they meet up with a girl my grandfather knows vaguely from school. She joins the group and spends over half the day with them. After they’ve been hanging out for a few hours, she turns to my grandfather.)

Girl: “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

Grandfather: “Um… not really.”

Girl: “You’re supposed to be picking me up in half an hour.”

(He was very lucky that the girl thought the whole thing was hilarious and wasn’t offended that the guy who was supposed to be taking her out on a date didn’t recognize her.)

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Unfiltered Story #168462

, , | Unfiltered | September 30, 2019

(I work the front end, overnight at a retail store.)

Coworker: “There’s a girl with pink hair with a few guys and I think they stole a bottle of alcohol.”

Me: “Okay.”

(Since I can’t stop them, all I can do is watch to see if I can somehow call them out within the rules, and just make sure they don’t get into anymore trouble. A few minutes later the group in question walks by from the other end of the store. They leave quietly and I can’t particularly see any stolen items on them, so I let them go, but I still make sure to greet them.)

Me: “Have a good night!”

(Just a few minutes later, the girl comes back in and walks down the only register I have open and grabs a bag a chips. I stop what I’m doing and head to my register.)

Me: “Hey there, ready to check out?”

Pink-haired Girl: *loses her big grin and stares shocked* “Oh, um, I was just looking around. Actually… I need to grab my money.”

(She runs to another lane and quickly puts her chips back and runs out of the store. She never comes back. The only thing I could think of was that she literally didn’t see me and thought she could steal what she wanted from the store because no one was around to watch her!)

Time For Trash Talking

, , , , | Right | September 29, 2019

I work in an assisted living facility. When visitors come and sign in, the system prints out a name tag sticker for them to wear. I recently purchased a small desktop trash can for them to put the peel-off backing of the name tags into, because they’ve been all over the floors, desktop, etc.

This trash can A) is directly in front of the visitors’ faces, at more-or-less eye-height, B) is shaped like a large, typical trash receptacle, and C) has a label on the front that says, “TRASH,” in large, easy-to-read font.

And yet at least a dozen times a day, a visitor stands directly in front of the d*** thing, peel-off backing in hand, asking me, “Where’s the trash?” and, “Can you toss this for me?” and, “Where can I put this?”

I would like to tell them just exactly where they can put it, and it sure isn’t the little trash can.

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You Can’t Teach An Old Dog New Tricks, Or Old Ones

, , , , | Working | September 26, 2019

(It’s Memorial Day and we’re incredibly busy. All of our registers are being used and there’s still a line, which is fairly unusual for our store. I’m on a register, along with one of our associates who is completely useless on the register, despite the fact that she’s worked here for probably six or seven months now and has been trained on them over and over again. The rest of us actively avoid letting her on registers because it just requires us to basically run two registers at once and do everything for her, every time.)

Coworker: *completely interrupting me talking to my customer* “Hey, [My Name], where are you writing them?”

Me: “Writing what?”

Coworker: “Are you writing them on a card?”

Me: “Writing what, [Coworker]? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Coworker: “The coupons.”

Me: “Oh, on the receipts.”

(We’ve recently been giving out coupons but ran out of the paper copies, so we write the info on people’s receipts to use to redeem the coupon.)

Coworker: “Okay, that’s what [Other Coworker] said earlier. I just wanted to double-check.”

Me: “Okay…”

(I go back to my customer. Maybe ten seconds later…)

Coworker: “Hey, [My Name], why is it doing this?”

(I look over to her register. It’s timing out on the pin pad, which it has been doing all day and happens probably at least once or twice a day normally. It’s a big nuisance.)

Me: “Oh, uh, it’s just timing out. It will take a few minutes to restart itself before you can try again. You’ll have to type in her card info by hand when it does.”

Coworker: “Does this happen often? What is happening?”

Me: *trying to talk to my customer about her transaction* “It happens a lot. It will time out in a minute or so. Just wait.”

Coworker: “Why is it taking so long? Can you fix it?”

Me: “No, you just wait for it to stop on its own.”

Coworker: “Why does it do this? Can you fix it? Does this happen a lot? I don’t know what to do.”

Me: *seeing her screen change after it times out* “You’ll need to type in her card info now so you don’t risk that happening again.”

Coworker: “How do you do that?”

(I reach across to show her where, knowing I have shown her this before, multiple times. The button literally says, “CREDIT CARD ENTRY.”)

Me: “Hit this button here.”

Coworker: “Now what do I do?”

Me: “Type in the info from the card. It asks for it right on the screen.”

(I watched her struggle for a minute or so, but I couldn’t help because I was ringing up customers still. When I got a chance, I turned around to help her only to see our new hire, who was maybe only on her second or third week in the store, showing her how to type in the card information.)

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Smells Like Teen Rhythm

, , , , , | Related | September 26, 2019

(I’ve always been a bit of a nerd and get excited when I can talk about stuff I’ve learned, even though people are rarely interested. My father does not share my enthusiasm for random facts and sometimes says that he needs a dictionary to talk to me. It’s about 8:30 pm and my brother and I, both teenagers, have just finished packing our school lunches for the next day.)

Dad: “Ugh, I feel old. You two can stay up until all hours while I’m already tired now.”

Me: “Actually, it just means you have teenagers! Children and adults usually start feeling tired around nine pm, but when you’re a teenager, your circadian rhythm shifts two hours later, so we usually start feeling tired at eleven. When you’re an adult, your biological clock shifts back to nine pm.”

Dad: *turns to my mother, who has heard the entire conversation* “Honey, she’s making sense again!”

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