In Pole-Position For Inappropriate Comment

, , , , , | Friendly | October 14, 2018

(I like to brighten the residents’ days by putting ribbons or flowers in my hair. One day I came to work with a little flower crown on my head.)

Resident: “Wow, [My Name], you’re so pretty you look like you should be dancing around a pole!”

Me: “Huh?”

Resident: “Have you ever been to a May Day festival? You’d fit right in, wrapping ribbons around the Maypole.”

(I appreciate the love, but someone should tell her what that sounds like.)

Needs To Do A Self-Check On Yourself

, , , , | Right | October 13, 2018

(My coworker and I are working at the self-checkouts. Our self-checkouts are located next to a deli and eating area that are separated from the checkouts by a half-wall. It is a busy Saturday morning and there are a lot of people eating breakfast in the deli. A customer and his wife are using the self-checkouts. When there is a weight issue with the machines, it takes about a second for the issue to register on our computers that control the checkouts; items won’t scan unless the issue is cleared. A weight issue just appeared on our screen when…)

Customer: “HEY! Can’t you see we need help?!”

(My coworker rushes over to see that it is a weight problem. He then starts to walk back to our computer to clear the issue.)

Customer: “Don’t you walk away from me!”

(My coworker clears the issue and goes back to the customer to explain what happened. A few people eating in the deli start to notice the man’s behavior.)


(Now everyone notices this guy and starts staring at him. He starts to slam his items on the self-checkout’s scanner.)

Customer:  “Your d*** machines don’t work!”

(As soon as I start to go over to try to help, a different customer who just came in the door asks where the store’s copy machine is. I try to give him directions amidst the other customers ranting and raving. My coworker attempts to show the man what the problem is and how to not have it happen again.)

Customer: “Don’t you tell me what to do! You fix the d*** thing! I can’t help it if it doesn’t work!”

(The customer and his wife head towards the exits when a customer who was eating at the deli comes over to the wall.)

Customer #2: “Hey buddy! You don’t get good service by being a p***k to people. You’re a douche.”

Customer: “Yeah, yeah.”

(After that incident, a few people came up to us and told us that they wanted to say something to the guy but were too afraid. One lady said she wanted to do a citizen’s arrest on him!)

Minimum Wage Is Totally Skippable

, , , , , | Working | October 12, 2018

I used to work at a popular clothing store that had pretty much everything you could need at a reasonable price. Just like every other clothing store, we had a store credit card that we were encouraged to have customers sign up for.

The rule was three “No”s per transaction, which no one really followed because that’s a little ridiculous. And, of course, corporate and managers gave us weekly goals that we had to meet.

Because I was usually working the sales floor and therefore couldn’t enter cards into the computer, I was never really close to my goal. This became a problem for me, but management preferred me on the floor, so they were cool with just keeping me there.

But then, one day, I went into work to see a bright notice on the cork board. It read, “ALL EMPLOYEES WHO DON’T MEET THEIR WEEKLY CREDIT GOALS MUST ATTEND A CUSTOMER SERVICE CLASS. SEE MANAGER FOR DETAILS.”

I did exactly that. When I spoke to a manager, she told me I had to attend the three-hour, mandatory class on being a polite but pushy employee or face “consequences.” When I asked what day it was, she said, “Next Friday morning.”

I was a college student who had morning classes, so I quickly told her that I literally couldn’t attend because of class. I was told that it was fine for me to skip classes, since college kids do that all the time. When I told her I didn’t want to skip classes that I paid $30,000 a year for, she then asked me what was more important to me: college, or my minimum-wage job?

I got a new job that week. I’ve never been so happy to hand in a letter of resignation.

The Bicycle Wheels Of Justice Keep Turning

, , , , , , | Legal | October 11, 2018

My college friend called me one day asking for advice. A few days before, she was hit by a car making a right turn across a crosswalk. My friend was on her bike but had the right of way. At first, the driver didn’t stop, and instead started off down the street before wisely deciding to return to the scene. My friend suffered no injuries, but her bike was badly damaged. A cop was called to the scene to take a report. My friend decided that she didn’t want to press charges as long as the driver paid to repair the bike, my friend’s main method of transport around the city. The cop agreed not to issue a ticket, but gave my friend his contact information and told her to let him know if there was any trouble.

The reason my friend called was that after taking the bike to her local bike shop and getting an estimate on repairs, she called the driver up to arrange payment. The driver didn’t want to pay, claiming she couldn’t afford it. She pleaded with my friend, saying that she just couldn’t do it.

My dad is a lawyer, and often gives free advice to my friends, so she was wondering what suggestions he had. My dad laughed when he told her the story. He knew exactly what to do, and wrote it all down for her in an email to recite when she called the driver back.

She called the woman back and politely told her that the agreement was to pay for the bike repairs in exchange for no ticket or summons being issued. If the driver was now reneging on that agreement, my friend would call the cop who came to the scene and request he issue the summons. The driver would have to pay a fine, and her insurance company would likely raise her rates.

My friend’s bike was repaired within the week.

To this day, my dad can’t believe that driver was so dumb as to try to weasel out of what was literally a gift from my friend of not letting her insurance company know what she did.

That’s A Ham-Fisted Excuse

, , , , , , | Working | October 3, 2018

(My mother-in-law wants a party for a milestone birthday. My husband and I are in charge of getting sandwiches, so we decide to order from the deli counter at our local grocery store to save some time and money, rather than buying ingredients and making them ourselves. The store offers two types of meat: ham and turkey, or you can order a mix of the two. My mother-in-law’s family has ham for every family get together, but some of my husband’s generation doesn’t eat it. It’s not a strict dietary requirement or religious thing; they just don’t like it. I order two batches — one ham and one turkey. When I go to pick it up, the deli worker brings two boxes, one almost comically huge, and one regular-sized donut box.)

Me: “These were supposed to be the same size orders.”

Deli Worker: “All of the sandwiches are there. They didn’t all fit in the big box, so the extras went in the little box.”

Me: “They were supposed to be separate. There were two orders: one turkey, one ham.”

Deli Worker: “Oh, we always mix them together unless you add a note that you don’t want that.”

Me: “Why would I add a note when I ordered them separate? There’s an option to have them mixed, and I didn’t order that; I ordered them separate.”

Deli Worker: “No, you ordered them together.” *pulls out my order* “See? One ham and one turkey, on the same order.”

Me: “That’s one order, so I only have to pay once. That’s not ordering them mixed together. I have people who won’t eat the ham; I didn’t want them to have to dig through to find the sandwich they want.”

Deli Worker: “You know, I’m having a really hard day, and you’re making it worse. Do you just want a manager?”

Me: “I do now.”

(The manager comes, and I try to explain. At this point, I’m more upset that the deli worker blamed me for not being specific enough, and then for making her day harder, and I’m near tears from frustration.)

Me: “I don’t have time for you to fix the sandwiches here; I have to go. I’ll deal with it. I just want to make sure that in the future they don’t just get mixed unless they’re actually ordered that way. And I definitely don’t think it’s okay to blame me for making her day harder.”

(I left and went to the front to pay, where the manager caught up to me and gave a discount while apologizing.)

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