Jedi: Samurai Of The Galaxy

, , , , , | Friendly | September 27, 2018

(Overheard at a playground…)

Mother: “Are your children wearing traditional Japanese kimonos?”

Japanese Mother: “No, they’re Star Wars costumes.”

Self-Checkout Makes You Seek Some Self-Help

, , , , | Right | September 27, 2018

(I am the customer in this story.)

Self-Checkout Machine: “Will you be using our bags or your bags?”

(I have two bulky items that will not fit in bags, so I choose the “your bags” option.)

Self-Checkout Machine: “Please place your bags in the bagging area.”

(I do nothing, not having bags.)

Self-Checkout Machine: “Please place your bags in the bagging area.”

(I proceed to start ringing up the bulky items, but after the first one is set down in the bagging area, the computer has an “unhandled exception” and crashes.)

Me: *to attendant* “Excuse me? Ma’am? This checkout station just had a system crash.”

(The attendant takes my items over to another station and rings them up herself.)

Me: *feeling pockets* “Um… I just realized my wallet is still out in the car. Can I just leave these here and come right back?”

Attendant: “No, I’ll take them for you, and you can get them back when you have your wallet.”

(I run out to the car and back and goes through self-checkout process again.)

Attendant: “How about if I just scan everything in from my system right here, and you can be on your way?”

Me: “That would be great.”

Attendant: “Okay, then I just need your payment method.”

(I swipe my credit card.)

Self-Checkout Machine: “Please insert your credit card into the chip reader.”

(I swipe my credit card again.)

Self-Checkout Machine: “Please insert your credit card into the chip reader.”

Attendant: “You’ll have to put your card in; it won’t take it if you swipe.”

(I look carefully and find the chip reader, though to my credit, it was hard to spot at first because of a large advertisement in the way.)

Attendant: “Thank you. Have a great day.”

Me: “I’m really sorry for all that. It’s just not my day today, is it?”

(The attendant half-smiled. She had probably dealt with many such cases by that point in the day, and I hope I was at least easier to deal with in my ineptitude than most. Moral of the story: anyone can be an idiot at any given time. Don’t make things worse for employees by having a bad attitude!)

Literally Slaving For Your Man

, , , , , | Right | September 25, 2018

(A man walks into the store where I work. He is quiet and has a hat indicating he is a veteran.)

Me: “Hello, sir, are you looking for anything in particular today?”

Customer: *speaking quietly, almost in a mutter* “So, do you guys have, like… slave collars?”

Me: “We… uh… have choker necklaces?”

(After a few minutes he picks one out. I then help ring him out.)

Customer: “She wants a collar to wear around the house. You know… like a slave.”

Getting All Mustard Flustered

, , , , | Right | September 23, 2018

(Two customers order cheeseburgers which are identical, except one has ketchup and one has mustard. A while after they get their food, one of them comes back up, waving a burger and looking furious.)

Customer: “You gave me the wrong burger!”

Manager: “Oh, I’m sorry about that. What was wrong with it?”

Customer: “This has mustard! I didn’t want mustard; I wanted ketchup!”

Manager: “Okay, we can remake that for you. Did we switch the burgers around?”

Customer: *looking confused* “I don’t know. My friend grabbed my burger, and started eating it. She ate the whole thing before she noticed it had ketchup. So I need this one remade, since I don’t like mustard!”

They Butter Be Joking

, , , , , , | Working | September 23, 2018

(My family tasks me with bringing food to a game night while one of my uncles is in town. Said uncle nearly exclusively eats chicken and corn, so I am given the choice between the big national chain and a smaller national chain. I’m a big fan of gizzards, which the big national chain doesn’t have at our local store, and my wife likes the smaller chain’s popcorn shrimp, so we go out of our way a little to try to visit them. The setup of the store is drive-thru only, with two lanes that go to either side of the building. One line has two cars in it, and the other has none, so I go to the unused side. Being a NAR fan, I carefully look for any indication that the empty side is empty because the speaker isn’t working or something like that, but there is nothing. Regardless, we wait through the first car in the other line getting their order taken. No problem; I figure there is only one cashier. We then notice the other car is getting served. No problem; they must have some system letting them see who was actually first. During this time, an employee steps out, makes eye contact with me, says something to someone inside, and leaves. When a third car pulls up and gets their order taken, I turn to my wife:)

Me: “Watch that car behind them, and if they get served before we do, let me know.”

(I continue to wait to be ready to order, looking for some indication that my lane is out of order, while my wife looks at the other lane. After a while:)

Wife: “Other lane just got served.”

Me: “Our lane must be out of order. I’ll pull around.”

(By this point, another car has pulled up behind me. As I pull around, about to enter the other lane, I hear the speaker I was waiting by turn on and the car that was behind me give an order.)

Me: “Nope. I guess they refused to serve me because I’m [race of other customers, generally the minority in this neighborhood, and not used in this chain’s advertising].”

Wife: “Clearly not that.”

Me: “Well, call my father and ask him to give us an order for [Big National Chain].”

(She calls:)

Wife: “Hey, we just pulled up to [Smaller Chain] and they didn’t serve us.”

(My father says something.)

Wife: “No, an employee saw us and said something, but they still didn’t do anything.”

(My father says something else.)

Wife: “No, the other customers being served were [Race], too.”

(We get the new order and go to the big national chain. I pull up into the drive-thru.)

Employee #1: “How can I help you?”

Me: “Let me get a 16-piece family meal, extra crispy, with two mashed potatoes, gravy on the side, coleslaw, and corn.”

Employee #1: “You want the 16-piece extra crispy bucket or the meal?”

Me: *pause* “The meal, please.”

Employee #1: “It comes with four sides.”

Me: “Two mashed potatoes, gravy on the side, coleslaw, and corn, please.”

Employee #1: “It comes with two mashed potatoes and two coleslaw.”

Me: “Okay, that’s fine.”

Employee #1: “Would you like potato wedges?”

Me: “I thought you just said it came with mashed potatoes and coleslaw?”

(There is no answer.)

Me: “No, I do not want potato wedges.”

Employee #1: “Could you move a little closer to the speaker, please?”

(I back up, turn my car in, and get closer. I try to speak up.)

Me: “Okay. No, if the meal comes with mashed potatoes and coleslaw, that’s fine.”

Employee #1: “Anything else?”

Me: “I’ll have a four-piece chicken tenders meal with corn.”

Employee #1: “Those come in three-, six-, and twelve-piece.”

(The menu lists three-, four-, and five-piece, but figuring it will be shared amongst my family, I decide to go up on the order, instead.)

Me: “Okay, a six-piece, with corn.”

Employee #1: “That comes with two sides.”

Me: “Okay, both corn.”

Employee #1: *pause* “So, that was two corn?”

(At this point, my wife reaches over and pulls my hand from my forehead, as I have facepalmed for so long she believes it is impeding my voice).

Me: “Yes. I’d also like twelve extra biscuits, and that will complete my order.”

(The employee gives me a total and has me pull around.)

Employee #2: “That’ll be $66.99. Do you want butter and honey for your biscuits?”

Me: “Yes, please.”

([Employee #2] walks away with my credit card. [Employee #1] returns with a bag only containing a chicken bucket and my card and receipt.)

Employee #1: “Here’s your receipt. Do you want any butter and honey?”

Me: “Yes!”

(At this point, it is 100+ degree weather, I’ve been denied service at my preferred restaurant and had a difficult time with a new employee who did not know the menu, and now I am having to repeat myself. I don’t perceive any anger or frustration in my voice, but given what happens after I get the rest of my food and bring it to the family gathering, I might have seemed gruff.)

Mom: *pulling out food from the bags* “Okay, here’s the tenders and the biscuits.”

Me: “Yeah, about the tenders, though the menu said they had a four-piece, they said it came in three or six, so I ordered six.”

Uncle: “Um… This has five.”

Mom: “And here is… an entire sack filled with butter and honey.”

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