Tattootally Unacceptable Behavior, Part 3

, , , | Right | January 4, 2021

I’m working at the front desk of a hotel.

Guest: “So, I’m getting a tattoo on Friday.”

I say something vaguely encouraging.

Guest: “Well, the thing is, we aren’t supposed to have guests in our room — company’s contract with the workers — so I was wondering if we could do it down here?”

Me:What?! You want to do a tattoo down here?! No! No, you may not!”

Guest: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes, you may not get a tattoo in our lobby or your room. You need to go to a reputable shop!”

My manager just stared at me for a full thirty seconds before pretending to run her head into a wall when I told her. I made sure all the clerks and housekeeping were aware of it on the possible day of tattooing.

Tattootally Unacceptable Behavior, Part 2
Tattootally Unacceptable Behavior

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Are We Married To That Phrasing?

, , , | Right | December 16, 2020

I’ve just finished checking in a guest at around 1:00 am.

Me: “Your room is just down the hall. Have a good night.”

Guest: “Thanks! Can I get a six-am wake-up call?”

Me: “Sure, but I feel bad calling you so soon.”

Guest: *Chuckling* “Thanks, hon, but I have to get up early to marry my daughter.”

There is an awkward pause.

Guest: “Good night.”

At breakfast, he explained that he was talking about walking her down the aisle rather than marrying her. I had been hoping he was just officiating!

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At Least They’re INSIDE A Bookstore?

, , , , | Right | October 26, 2020

I am browsing in a bookstore when a family of four clustered around a table of graphic novels suddenly cries out in excitement.

Mother: “Look! They adapted the movie To Kill a Mockingbird into a comic book!”

Employee: “Actually, the graphic novel is adapted from the book.”

Son: “Why would anyone base a comic on a book?”

Employee: “It’s not so uncommon anymore. Look, there’s an adaptation of The Handmaid’s Tale right over there.”

Son: “No, that’s a TV show.”

I leave the poor employee and walk into the next room to browse the fiction section. The daughter, who is about eighteen years old, breaks off and approaches me.

Daughter: “I can’t make sense of these shelves. Are they alphabetical by title?”

Me: “Um, no. Alphabetical by author.”

Daughter: “Really? It doesn’t make sense to do it that way.”

Me: “It’s by author. Were you looking for something? I don’t work here, but maybe I can help.”

Daughter: “Oh, no, I’ll find it.”

The daughter stands and stares at the fiction shelves with her brow furrowed. I find the book I am looking for and go back to the other room to pay, where I find that the rest of the family is still debating whether or not the “To Kill a Mockingbird” graphic novel is based on the movie or the book.

Mother: “See, this has to be based on the movie because it has the aunt in it.”

Employee: “…?”

Mother: “The aunt isn’t in the book; they invented that character for the movie.”

Employee: “Scout’s aunt? She’s in the book. But it doesn’t really matter; the story is going to be essentially the same regardless.”

Mother: “No, the aunt is not in the book. You should read it sometime.”

The aunt is definitely in the book, but I don’t want to get involved. The employee politely excuses herself to ring me up. As we are finishing the transaction, the daughter comes up and points at me.

Daughter: “You were wrong. Those shelves aren’t alphabetical by author. I don’t even know what they are, but they’re not that.”

Me: “Sorry? I believe they are.”

Employee: “The fiction section? It is alphabetical by author. Can I help—”

Daughter: “No. It’s not.”

She walked away, leaving the employee confused. The family left at the same time as me.

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Privacy Schmivacy

, , , , | Right | October 13, 2020

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]; how can I help you?”

Customer: “I need to talk to [Supervisor].”

Me: “I’m sorry, she’s not in today. I can connect you to the woman covering for her or leave a message for tomorrow.”

Customer: “No, I have to talk to [Supervisor] and it has to be today. Do you have her phone number?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I cannot give out employee phone numbers; it’s a privacy issue.”

The customer starts to get very cranky.

Customer: “I don’t want you to give me her number. I want you to call her and tell her to call me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I’m not allowed to access employee phone numbers myself because that’s private information.”


Me: “Like I said, ma’am, I don’t have a way to access that information.”


I connected her to my manager who she eventually wore down into calling my supervisor. I later found out that all the customer wanted was to ask my supervisor if she wanted to go to a concert with her.

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What’s The Fun In That?

, , , , , | Related | October 11, 2020

A mother and her two young children are shopping for toys. The little girl has already made her selection and is waiting by the counter for her younger brother to pick something when she strikes up a conversation.

Little Girl: *Dramatically* “I’m soooo sorry about this. He’s having trouble picking a toy. We’ve got to make sure he picks the right toy, but…” *sigh* “…he’s new at this.”

Me: “That’s okay; you guys have got plenty of time to find what you want.”

Little Girl: “He has to learn not to pick big toys; my mom says that’s really important. Otherwise, he’ll think too much about them and start to turn into them!”

Me: “Oh! Well, that wouldn’t be good!”

Little Girl: “I know. That’s why I’m not allowed to have a horse until I’m older, because while I’m little, a horse is too big, so if I get a horse, it’s too much for my brain to handle, and I’ll turn into a horse person and have to sleep in a barn! But I can still get little horse toys because I’m bigger than they are, and my little brother can get little dinosaur toys, as well.”

Me: *Trying not to chuckle* “I’m glad you were able to find one, then. And don’t worry; we have plenty of little dinosaur toys.”

Little Girl: “Good! Because if he thinks too much about dinosaurs at his young age, he’ll turn into a dinosaur-brother, and not just a dinosaur-brother, but a vampire-dinosaur-brother!”

Me: “Ooh, that’d be really scary!”

Little Girl: “Yes. And I don’t want a vampire-dinosaur-brother! Because in the middle of the night I’ll hear this…”

The little girl proceeds to dramatically act out what a person changing into vampire-dinosaur-brother would be like, complete with hissing, roars, and bodily spasms. Her mother and brother now approach the counter. The mother has clearly overheard the whole conversation and looks a little embarrassed.

Me: “Did we find one that won’t turn anyone into a vampire-dinosaur?”

Kids’ Mother: “Yes, finally!”

Little Girl: “Are you surrrrre?”

Me: “Well, if it doesn’t work out, you’ll have the receipt in case you need to return it.”

Little Girl: “Good!”

She snatches the receipt and hands it to her mother.

Little Girl: “Hang on to that!”

Thus far, I haven’t seen any reports of a vampire-dinosaur terrorizing the city, so it looks like their mother made the right call!

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