(I’m a manager at a popular fast food place and I’m on my break. I have a few piercings: two in my ears — hardly noticeable unless you really look — the others are my fresh, new piercings I have only had for a week. No one has ever commented about my piercings. A customer enters the restaurant, walks past me, uses the bathroom, stops in front of my table on her way back out, and stares at me.)

Me: *glances up and notices this woman staring at me* “Yes, ma’am? How may I help you?”

Customer: “Are you a manager?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I’m the closing manager for the night.”

(I figure something was wrong with her drive-thru order, I start to ask her if she was missing anything.)

Customer: *very angrily* “Well, you shouldn’t be!”

Me: *completely surprised* “Excuse me. I’m sorry, but why shouldn’t I be?”

Customer: “Obviously, your appearance.”

Me: *completely offended, but maintaining my politeness as much as possible* “I’m sorry, ma’am; I was born looking like this. What bothers you so much about my appearance?”

Customer: “You’re obviously trash! You, as a woman, should not be lazy and just sit around, and also because of those nasty holes in your ears, along with those extra piercings! You shouldn’t be one, because the trash you wear makes you a terrible person! I bet you can’t even do your job correctly, just a s***ty manager!”

Me: *completely fed up with her* “I apologize that I’m on break trying to enjoy my thirty minutes of relax time, and that my appearance offends you so much that you feel that I can’t do my job correctly. I have worked extremely hard for my position, and if it bothers you so much, the door is right over there. Enjoy the rest of your night, and I’ll make sure not to change my appearance to appease one nasty woman that is welcome never to come back.”

Customer: “See?! That’s why you shouldn’t be a manager! Along with a terrible appearance, you can’t handle criticism, either!”

(She walked out, tried to slam the automatic closing door, and got frustrated when it didn’t slam and turned and flipped me the bird.)

Related:
Piercing Observation, Part 4
Piercing Observation, Part 3
Piercing Observation, Part 2

(I am a customer overhearing this exchange. The time is 6:45, and the movie starts at 7:00. It’s the opening weekend of a huge blockbuster, so we’re all waiting in line.)

Lady: “They say there’s a 15-minute wait! They’re going to make us stand around for fifteen minutes!”

(No one says anything.)

Lady: *louder, to the crowd* “THEY’RE GOING TO MAKE US WAIT ANOTHER FIFTEEN MINUTES! ARE WE GOING TO STAND FOR THIS, EVERYONE?!”

(No one responds. She does this four or five more times.)

Me: “IF YOU DIDN’T WANT TO WAIT FIFTEEN MINUTES, DON’T SHOW UP FIFTEEN MINUTES EARLY!”

(The lady slinked off back to her place in line, while everyone else laughed.)

(For the holidays this year, my workplace has set up a schedule where a different third of the shop will each be off work the week before Christmas, the week between Christmas and New Year’s, and the week after New Year’s.)

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], which week are you off?”

Coworker: “First one, why?”

Me: “Just wondering.”

Coworker: “What?”

Me: *joking* “Just wondering if I had to look at your face next week.”

Coworker: “See, the first time I misheard what you said as “Ghostbusters”, so I think I’m going to go with that instead.”

(I work in the northern New Mexico mountains, where storms are known to come in in the blink of an eye. I work as a guide on a ropes course, which has lots of metal cables attaching the various obstacles to each other, as well as attaching the guests to the course to keep them from falling 60 feet to the ground. If there is lightning in the area, we have to get down off the course for a certain period of time, because as most people know, metal + humans + lightning = bad. We have just gotten back on the course after a lightning hold when another strike is spotted. Understandably, people are upset, but most comply because they’d rather not be barbecued. Until…)

Guest: “Why do we have to get down?”

Me: “There’s lightning in the area, and we need to ensure that guests and staff aren’t struck by it while on the course.”

Guest: “But I signed a waiver! That means I don’t care if I get hurt if lightning hits the course!”

Me: “Ma’am, we are legally required to get down off the course in this situation. There’s too much at risk, otherwise.”

Guest: “But I signed a waiver!”

Me: “Well… I’m sorry, but lightning incinerates the waiver.”

(I work with my sister at a vegan bakery. It’s her first job. It is January, so typically cold. I show up the first day before sunrise and it is freezing inside — literally. The building is separate from the main restaurant.)

Me: “Why is it so cold?”

Sister: “Oh, the owner doesn’t have heat installed in here. Don’t worry; it kind of warms up after a few hours when we turn the oven on.”

(Later, I start to mix a recipe with a spoon.)

Sister: “Oh, no, if the owner comes back here and sees that, we get in trouble. We have to use our bare hands.”

Me: “Seriously? Bare hands? And it’s all freezing?”

Sister: “Yeah, otherwise we get yelled at and she starts coming back here a lot more to check.”

(Another day the owner came back and hurriedly LOCKED US IN. There were bars on the window; we literally couldn’t get out if there was a fire. She did this for several days because, as we found out later, the health inspector was around and she didn’t want him to know that building was in use. It’s really hard to find a baking job, so my little sister begged me not to say anything. I got my revenge quite unintentionally. On one of my last few days, it was so cold I wore my longest coat. I got so many glares from the owner and the staff in the actual kitchen, all family members, and I couldn’t figure out why. Then I realized: they are all Hindu. My coat? A calf-length white LEATHER trench coat. Oops. Shortly after I moved on, my sister gave up as well. She made new recipes for things like their tea cookies, following all vegan guidelines, but they were rejected because, “They didn’t taste vegan,” “They weren’t hard enough,” and, “No one would believe they were vegan.” After she left, someone sued because the cookies were so hard they broke a tooth.)