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.)

In Soviet Russia, Rooms Rest You!

, , , , | Right | August 7, 2017

(My family moved from Sweden to America when I was a teenager. As a result, we had pretty obvious accents. In high school I got a job at a clothing store. Most people who heard me speak either seemed curious and would ask me where I was from or simply didn’t comment. One day, an older man walked into the store and came up to me.)

Man: “Hello, I was wondering if you could point me to the restrooms?”

Me: “Oh, of course! They’re just down this aisle. I can show you if you’d like.”

(The man stared at me suspiciously for a few long moments before he motioned for me to step a little closer. I did so nervously. His expression was very, very grave and serious.)

Man: “Tell me straight. Are you a communist?”

(I barely managed to suppress my laughter and assured him that I was not a communist. I then quickly showed him to the restrooms and proceeded to laughed myself sick.)

It’s A Normal Human Condition(er)

, , , | Romantic | August 4, 2017

(It’s tough to get any adult privacy in our household with small children. My husband and I finally get some intimate shared shower time, including using some conditioner for lubricant, when I have a lightning bolt realization.)

Me: “So THAT’S why we always run out of conditioner before we run out of shampoo!”

Unfiltered Story #90935

, , | Unfiltered | July 18, 2017

(It is a really slow day at the fast food place, and I am serving some kid and his friends. They all look to be roughly 11 or 12. One of the boys that is ordering keeps flirting with me quite aggressively the whole time and I am starting to get annoyed as I am not interested in robbing the cradle.)

Me: “And did you want anything else?”

Kid: “Yeah, can I add your phone number to my order?”

Me: *deadpan* “Why? Do you need a babysitter?”

(His friends burst out laughing and he quickly left the store after that.)

Love Is Love… Idiot

, , , , | Romantic | July 17, 2017

(My uncle is a self-proclaimed redneck and always has been. We lost contact with each other but finally got each other’s phone numbers again and are speaking for the first time in seven years. He still lives in a rural southern area and I’ve moved up north. I’m also gay.)

Me: “And also… I’m married.”

Uncle: “Oh, yeah? Who’s the guy?”

Me: “Actually, it’s, um, a woman.”

Uncle: “Oh. Well, you know I don’t understand that, but I don’t have to. Hell, I don’t understand how your daddy has been married four times. I still love you and if your wife makes you happy that’s enough for me. If she hurts you, though, I hurt her.”

Me: “Haha, I’ll tell her.”

Uncle: “You haven’t told Nana, have you?” *his mother* “She’s very against that.”

Me: “Unfortunately, she knows. She still tries to be buddy-buddy with me over Facebook and doesn’t understand why I won’t go visit her after she called me an abomination, a disgrace, and sobbed because I wasn’t going to have ‘natural’ children.”

Uncle: “Yeah, she’s an idiot. You’ve been saying since you were nine that you don’t want kids.” *pause* “I have a question.”

Me: “Okay.”

Uncle: “I don’t know any gay people, just one or two folks who keep it quiet ‘cause of where we live, but… is it really dangerous to admit you’re gay?”

Me: “Depends. If I still lived down south, definitely. I got death threats from Dad’s side of the family down there when we announced our engagement.”

Uncle: “If ya tell me who, I can shoot ’em for ya. The h*** does it matter if you like women? Boobs are great!”

(I missed him.)

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