Bright Green Alert!

, , , , | Working | December 12, 2019

(I work in an ice cream parlor. I am training a new employee, showing him how to measure scoops, proper sundae technique, and the like. I have just demonstrated how to ring up a sale for a family in the lobby when I hear a sound, a very particular sound that sends my blood cold. Everyone who has kids knows exactly what sound I am talking about. It’s that weird little cough-choke sound that means only one thing: vomit is nigh. I hurriedly grab one of the large empty ice cream containers, but I am too late. The adorable little moppet EXPLODES, producing an incredible –and actually rather impressive — amount of bright green vomit. Everything within five feet of the kid is doused. The parents are in shock. The new hire is slack-jawed and turns to look at me in horror.)

Me: *grinning and slapping him on the back* “So… guess who’s the new guy?”

New Hire: *slumps dejectedly* “Aww…”

Me: “Nah, just kidding. I’ll help. Let’s show you where the bucket and sanitizer are.”

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Maybe They Were Born Yesterday

, , , , , , | Working | November 29, 2019

(I’m the assistant manager of a retail store and am setting up a new starter. Our tills have a four-number operator ID and a four-number password.)

Me: “What’s the day and month of your birthday?”

New Starter: “28th of November.”

Me: “Okay, so your Op ID is 2811. Year of birth?”

New Starter: “2001.”

Me: “Okay, so, that’s your operator number set to 2811 and the password is 2001. Change the password to something else you can remember when you sign on so no one else knows your password.”

New Starter: “Hey, can I write this down if it’s important? Just in case I forget it?”

Me: “Dude, it’s your birthday. If you forget that, we’ve got bigger issues to deal with.”

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It Made More Sense On Paper  

, , | Working | November 4, 2019

(I’ve been working as a waiter at a bar for around a month. I know most drink names and how to do nearly everything a customer might ask, but I still need some help from time to time. It’s a very busy evening and I see a man at the bar who hasn’t been served.)

Me: “Hi there! What can I get you?”

Customer: “A paper booklet.”

(Because there’s so much noise, I can’t hear him properly.)

Me: “Excuse me. Could you repeat that? I’m not sure I follow.”

Customer: “I want a paper booklet!”

Me: “I’m sorry. I’m quite new here; I don’t really understand…” 

Customer: “Oh, I’ll just ask someone else!”

(He stomps away to ask a coworker. Another coworker comes to see what the trouble is. I tell her what happened.)

Coworker: “He was talking about smoking paper. You know, the paper you use to roll your own cigarettes?”

(I went to get it and apologised to him, an apology he reluctantly accepted. Then, my boss, who was around, asked me what it was all about. I told him what had gone down and he asked why I didn’t get him the tobacco rolling paper before; honestly, it had never crossed my mind! I told my boss that all I could really think about was a small book of papers, and that the only thing I could think of was getting the papers we use to write orders down, stapling some together and giving them to him! He laughed so hard he was nearly crying, and so did all my coworkers; it was all good in the end, and a fun way to end my shift.)

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Holding On To That Bakers’ Dozen

, , , , , | Working | October 25, 2019

(I am a young team lead — 20 — that frequently runs the building alone on the weekends. We have a recent hire that’s a bit older than me — 32. We are trained that for clients that are out of area, we have to charge them two dollars for every mile outside of the service area they are for the trip there and back. So, for example, our service area is 25 miles. If the client lives 30 miles away we charge them $2 x 5, so $10 total. I’m just finishing up an escalation report when I hear this new hire talking to her cube mate.)

New Hire: “Can I borrow your calculator? Mine is broken.”

Cube Mate: “Sure, here you go.”

(A minute later.)

New Hire: “I can’t believe it; yours is broken, too!”

Cube Mate: “Are you sure? I just used it for an extra-long trip and it worked fine.”

New Hire: “Yes, it’s giving the wrong answer!”

Cube Mate: “Here, let me see.”

(A few moments later.)

Cube Mate: “It’s working fine. What are you trying to figure out?”

New Hire: “Six times two.”

Cube Mate: *pause* “That’s twelve.”

New Hire: “No, it’s not!”

(Cue me leaning out and watching with interest.)

Cube Mate: “Yes. Yes, it is.”

New Hire: “No, that’s what they are saying, but I know it’s not true. It’s 13!”

(The cube mate looks at me and we both just stare for a moment before they motion, helpless, for me.)

Me: “No, [Cube Mate] is correct; six times two is twelve, not thirteen.”

New Hire: “No, it isn’t; I know math!”

(I am thinking, “Then why did you need the calculator?”)

Me: “Six and two are both even numbers; when you multiply them you can only get another even number, right?”

New Hire: *rolls her eyes* “Well, duh, everyone knows that. That’s why it’s thirteen, not twelve.”

Me: *open my mouth closes it and shakes my head* “Just put in the payment for $12, please.”

New Hire: *all but screaming* “You are both just trying to get me fired!”

Me: *internally sighing* “Put in the payment for $12 and say I approved it. Give me the job number and I’ll notate it myself so if anything comes of it I can take the full blame.”

(She finally entered in the payment. Unsurprisingly, nothing ever came of that payment. Now, her, on the other hand… I could write a book on.)

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Enough To Make You Want To Real Cry

, , , , , | Working | October 17, 2019

(A new colleague has just joined our company. For a 36-year-old, she is really weird and incredibly infantile; she does things like sticking out her tongue at us when she loses an argument, jumping out at the other staff, and once sneaking up on me and tickling me. For lunch, there’s a canteen nearby, and we usually call beforehand to place orders. They will pack it for us but we have to collect it in person. We take turns to collect the food for everyone. It happens to be my turn, and the newbie tags along to help me carry all the packets. [Newbie] almost goes up to grab a random food packet, thinking it’s hers. I tell her it’s still not ready. She sees the cook add some spring onions to the packet in front of her, and panics.)

Newbie: “I don’t want spring onions in mine!” 

Me: “Oh, let me tell the cook.”

Cook: “Sorry, it’s already packed.”

([Newbie] stops dead in the middle of the packed canteen and starts FAKE CRYING at the top of her voice. There’s no actual tears, just a loud, deafening wailing like a baby.)

Newbie: *wailing* “AH-HUH-HUH-HUH-HUH, I don’t want spring onions! I don’t want spring onions!”

(Her hands were on my shoulders and EVERY SINGLE PERSON in the immediate vicinity turned to gape at us. She had an enormous grin on her face, like she thought she was funny. It was clear she was not actually upset by the onions, just doing it for laughs. The cook gave us a weird look and pushed the packet to us to get rid of us quickly. I nearly died of embarrassment as she wailed all the way out of the canteen. A few weeks later, she started a petty fight with our supervisor, because the supervisor called her “Miss” and she deemed it insulting. She threatened to call the police for it, and the manager got tired of her squabbling and fired her for poor attitude.)

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