The Beard Is Feared

, , , , | Friendly | December 11, 2017

(This happens in the days before self-service petrol stations. We are heading to a fancy dress party, with my male cousin dressed as a woman.)

Service Attendant: *approaching the driver’s window from behind and noticing what looks like a gorgeous redhead in the driver’s seat* “Hi, honey, what can I get you today? How about my phone number?”

Cousin: *giggling like a girl and acting embarrassed, with his hands covering his lower face, turns, and bats his eyes at the attendant* “Ooh, can you fill it up please?”  

Service Attendant: *winking and smiling* “Sure thing, honey.”

Cousin: *using his normal, deep, male voice* “And hurry up about it.”

Service Attendant: *looks back in shock at my cousin, who has now revealed his bearded chin*

(After we drive away and are all having a good laugh:)

Cousin: “That felt so good. I can’t understand how you lot have to put up with that sort of s*** constantly. The look on his face was so worth it.”

A Needling Attempt At A Refund

, , , , , | Right | December 8, 2017

(A coworker has come to me about a refund that she is unsure about.)

Coworker: “I have a lady who wants to return knitting needles, but I wasn’t sure if we did refunds on those.”

Me: “Yeah. We shouldn’t, but we do. Where’s the lady? I’ll help her.”

(She leads me over to an elderly lady who is standing near our knitting needle displays.)

Customer: “Hello, dear. I have some knitting needles here that I would like a refund for. Can you do that?”

Me: “I can, but first I need to see what needles they are, and I will need the receipt.”

Customer: “Oh, I don’t have the receipt.”

(She starts pulling out needles that are so old that they are in imperial sizing. They look ancient.)

Me: “Um, we don’t sell these brands. Did you say you bought these here?”

Customer: “Oh, no, I’ve had these at home for years. I can’t knit anymore. I just want a refund.”

Me: “I’m sorry; that’s not how refunds work. We can only refund on brands we sell, that you have actually bought from us, and have a receipt for.”

Customer: “But you sell knitting needles.”

Me: “Yes, we do, but we don’t sell or buy used knitting needles. I am so sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.”

Customer: “I am sorry for taking up your time; thank you for being patient.”

(As she shuffles off my coworker turns to me.)

Coworker: “Oh, thank you for that; I didn’t know what to do with her.”

(I felt so bad for the old lady.)

A Hot Slice Of Nice

, , , , , , | Hopeless | November 30, 2017

(I work at a large pizza chain. One day we get an order for several pizzas, which we fill. However, someone misreads the slip and makes the wrong pizza. The customer comes in to collect her order before we can fix it.)

Me: “We’re really sorry, but we made you [Pizza #1] instead of [Pizza #2]. We can remake it if you’re willing to wait.”

Customer: “No, don’t bother. I’m happy with [Pizza #1]. How much do I owe you?”

(I give her the total, which is a little over $20. She pulls out a $20 note, but then her face goes pale.)

Customer: “I’m so sorry. I dropped the other $20 on the way here. I could go home and grab more money.”

(Since she was so nice about the pizza, and since she’s only short a couple of dollars, I wave her off. A few weeks later, we get an order for the same customer. I’m not working that night, so I am told about this later. The customer comes in, collects her pizzas — correctly made this time — and then goes up to pay.)

Customer: “I was here a few weeks ago. I dropped part of the money that I was going to use to pay for the pizza, and the person on the counter was nice enough to let me go. I’ve brought in the amount I was short last time. Can you try to make sure that she gets it? Her name was [My Name].”

(I’ve had customers who were short. On the very rare occasion, they may pay it back. But I’ve never had a customer not only return the money, but remember the person who covered the missing amount.)

Making A Badly-Timed Meal Out Of It

, , , , , , , | Related | November 30, 2017

(I am over at my parent’s house while they are preparing dinner. My father is a stickler for having dinner at 6:30.)

Dad: “Shouldn’t you be home getting dinner ready for your husband?”

Me: “We don’t eat until 7:30 or 8:00.”

Dad:What? You should have dinner on the table at exactly 6:30 so that [Husband] can eat on time.”

Me: “[Husband] doesn’t get home until after 7:30.”

Dad: “It’s not right, eating that late.” *my grandmother walks into the kitchen* “Did you hear that, Nanna? They don’t eat until 9:30!”

Grandmother: *looking daggers at my mother* “Dinner should be on the table at 5:30; 9:30 is too late.” *both Dad and Grandmother start leaving the room*

Me: “I never said 9:30; I said 7:30. [Husband] doesn’t get home until then.”

Mum: “Don’t waste your breath; they won’t listen, because everyone else is wrong.”

Me: “What did Nanna give you a dirty look for?”

Mum: “Because I am not home early enough for her dinner time.”

Me: “But you work until 5:30 and have half an hour drive to get home.”

Mum: “Exactly; I am supposed to tell [Store Owner] that he needs to close the store by 4:30 so I can get home to cook dinner.”

Oscar Mike Golf

, , , , , , | Working | November 20, 2017

I am doing some stock take at a high-end watch shop. Each watch has a long serial number on the back, a combination of letters and numbers. All the staff use the International Radio Alphabet (Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, etc.) to call out the serial numbers. The store manager comes from upstairs, needing a watch to transfer to another store — a fairly common occurrence.

He needs to note the serial number on our POS system, but elects to write the number down and fill it in later.

The number is called up to him as another sales staff packages up the watch in a pretty box.

Later, the manager is getting frustrated with the POS system not accepting the serial number.

He’s about to go berserk at the sales clerk that’s reading him the number, until I check, and the manager is trying to enter “Whiskey Romeo 3456” rather than “WR3456″ into the database.”

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