I Say Potato, You Say Fat

, , , , | Friendly | September 15, 2017

(My grandfather has relayed this story a few times from when he was a kid in the early 1950’s, and says it has always bothered him. In the story, my great uncle walks into the room first. He is a large and stocky person.)

Neighbor: “Looks like you’ve been eating your potatoes.”

(My grandpa walks in. He is very skinny and lanky.)

Neighbor: *looking back at great uncle* “Looks like you’ve been eating his potatoes, too!”

Unfiltered Story #92587

, , | Unfiltered | August 31, 2017

I work full time as a Security Guard at a High-Rise Condominium downtown. I have been working at this building for a few years, so I know the place like the back of my hand. A group of people visiting a unit in the building walk up to the Front Desk and this conversation ensues:
GUESTS: Where is guest parking?
ME: Right down the hallway
I go back to my responsibilities. a few seconds later, the group returns.
GUESTS: Where is the REAL guest parking?
ME: That is the only guest parking we have.
GUESTS: You’re lying! We didn’t park our car there!
ME: That’s the only guest parking we have
GUESTS: You’re lying!
ME; Where did you park?
GUESTS; In guest parking!
At this point, I figure out that they must be confused with another level of our parking ramp, so I decided to approach this a different way.
ME: Who are you visiting?
GUESTS: [Name] in unit [number]
I look through my resident parking list and find that this specific resident parks in a spot that is visible from my vast array of camera angles. I review the camera and see these same people with their resident host parking and leaving a minivan in this resident’s space several hours earlier. This is perfectly legal since the resident gave them access to his/her spot, but it is not our guest parking.
ME: I found where you parked, please follow me.
The group follows me to the parking level where we walk out the elevator, out a lobby door, and into the ramp. As soon we enter the ramp, the guests declare: “This is not where we parked!”. We are about 20 spaces away from the place where I think they parked; I convince them to keep walking towards the spot. As soon as we get to the spot where they are parked. The men in the group exclaim: ” thank you, may you have seven [women] [please] you tonight.” I have strict moral standards, but I just let the comments go and make sure the group leaves safely.

Genderalising The Work Force

, , , , | Working | August 30, 2017

(I am a new lawyer working on electronic discovery for litigation, with several other people. We are early to work and waiting for the manager to open the office; due to security, we can’t get in without that. The manager is a small young woman, and most of the team are men).

Coworker: *spots the manager coming in, but forgets her name* “Hey, it’s the… young female!”

Me: “Really? I’ve been right here the whole time!”

Coworker: “…I need to find a better way to say that…”

Their Sense Of Compassion Is Disabled

, , , | Friendly | August 27, 2017

(I take the train to work each day, because I don’t drive, due to a non-obvious disability. I board at my usual stop and a couple, headed for the airport judging by their luggage, gets in the same car as me. There is only one set of seats for disabled people not currently in use, but most of the rest of the car is unoccupied. The disabled seats are clearly marked with signs at seating eye level. Between themselves and their luggage, the couple proceeds to take up the entire space, leaving no space for me to sit down. The following interaction ensues between me and the husband.)

Me: “Excuse me. I’m disabled and need to sit down, please.”

Man: “What?”

Me: “I said excuse me. I’m disabled and need to sit down, please.”

(After a couple minutes’ staring contest they move with considerable petulance and ill-grace.)

Man: “Well, EXCUSE ME for wanting to sit next to my WIFE!”

Me: “I’m terribly sorry that my disability is proving so inconvenient for you, sir.”

Man: “Well, how was I to know those seats are for disabled people?”

Me: “I’m no expert on such matters but I would suspect the signs—” *I point to one* “—might be just a bit of a clue.”

Give Them Credit For Trying Again, And Again, And Again

, , , , , , | Working | August 14, 2017

(I stop at a local department store to pickup up some jeans for my daughter. While I am usually sympathetic to clerks/cashiers promoting their store branch credit cards and customer programs, this clerk was a little overzealous and ultimately cost the store a sale.)

Clerk: “Will you be using [Store] credit card to pay for these?”

Me: “No.”

Clerk: “Do you have a [Store] credit card?”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t.”

Clerk: “Oh, well, it’ll only take a few minutes to sign you up. You’ll save an additional 20% on today’s purchase, and you’ll get weekly coupons—”

Me: “Sorry, not interested. Please just ring my purchases up.”

Clerk: “But, you really need to sign up for this card. Don’t you want to save an additional 20% off today?”

Me: “No. Either ring up my purchases or find someone who can.”

Clerk: “But you’re missing out on an additional 20% off today. What if I could get you your total order for free today? Would that work?”

(There was about $120 in merchandise sitting on the counter.)

Me: “You are not listening to me. I do not want a [Store] credit card.”

Clerk: *beginning to ring up order* “You’d turn down free stuff? You must have bad credit or something. Cause everyone wants to save money? Can I at least have an email address so I can sign you up for our customer rewards program?”

Me: “No. You know what? Just cancel my order.”

(The whole time this exchange was going on, a shift leader was no more than five feet going through the returns rack. I could tell she was listening to the conversation, but she made no attempt to intervene. I went home and then proceeded to order everything I was going to buy in-store online.)

Page 1/212
Next »