Next Time, Use Carrier Pigeons

, , , , | Right | December 7, 2018

(My boutique store has a couple of locations, and our inventory system is fairly rudimentary, so we often have to text photos of products to each other to show customers. The owner also likes to give out assignments and miscellaneous chores via text, so we always have our cell phones nearby in case we need them. I am helping a lady who is looking for a specific color vase.)

Me: “Hmm, it looks like we only have the light blue and the burgundy, but I do remember seeing a green or teal one at the other location last week. Would you like me to check on it for you?”

Customer: “Yes, please.”

(I call the other store and confirm they have it, and the customer asks if she can see what it looks like, so I ask my coworker to text me some photos. I pull my phone out and show the photos to the customer.)

Customer: “Yes, okay, I like that one. Can you have it sent here and call me when I can pick it up?”

Me: “Of course!”

(I begin to text my coworker to set it aside.)

Customer: “You know, you really shouldn’t be on your cell phone during work.”

Me: *pause* “Beg your pardon?”

Customer: “It’s very unprofessional; it makes you look like a millennial, like you aren’t present.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I was letting my coworker know to set the vase aside for transfer. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Customer: “Well, you shouldn’t even have your phone with you.”

Me: “I was only able to show you photos of the product because of my phone. It’s one of the ways my coworkers and I communicate between stores, since our inventory system is pretty old-fashioned.”

Customer: “Whatever. You should just keep in mind that it’s rude, okay?”

Me: *another pause* “I will bear that in mind. Let’s get you rung up for that vase.”

Bridging The Facts

, , , , , | Learning | December 6, 2018

(Our school is taking a trip to New York City, and the teacher in charge has hired a local tour guide to come onto our bus to tell some facts about landmarks. While talking about the Brooklyn Bridge, the guide brings up the architect, John Roebling.)

Guide: “Now, does anyone by chance happen to know where John Roebling is from?”

Literally Everyone On The Bus: “Saxonburg, Pennsylvania!”

Guide: “No, that’s not right. Hmm… I can’t remember, either. Oh, well. Moving on.”

Teacher: “No, they are right and you are wrong. He is from Saxonburg, and that is a fact. Our school is in Saxonburg; our park is named ‘Roebling Park’ after him, and they even have a model of the Brooklyn Bridge in it. If there is one thing we know, it’s where he’s from.”

Insecure About Storing Her Money Securely

, , , , , , | Right | December 3, 2018

This happened while I was working at a friend’s mom-and-pop pizza place. We were running short of ones and change so I had to run to the bank next door to get some.

Understand that this particular bank was — as a teller there once mentioned to me — used as a training site for new teller hires for all the local company locations. Since it was in a down-scale neighborhood, it tended to have more than its share of “problem customers,” so if you could handle yourself professionally there, everywhere else was a breeze.

Anyhow, I’m standing in line and the lady in front of me says she wants to withdraw $50 from her checking account. But she doesn’t have any checks with her. Or the account number. Or any ID. And despite claiming “she banks here all the time,” no one working there recognizes her.

When the lady teller tries to politely explain why she needs to go home and return with at least an ID, cue the five minute screaming rampage about how “racist” the bank, the teller, and everyone else working here is, and the only reason she can’t get “her” money is because she’s [race]. Throughout this the teller remains perfectly polite, but adamant that she can’t do what the lady is requesting.

Finally the screamer storms out, and I get to do my business. The teller looks a bit frazzled, so as we’re talking I compliment her on staying calm, and tell her she did exactly the right thing. In fact, that if she HAD allowed the “customer” to perform such a sketchy withdrawal, I would have worried about how secure MY account there was.

Repossession Is Ten Tenths Of The Law

, , , , , | Hopeless | December 2, 2018

(I am unemployed for an extended period of time. I end up getting a ticket for lapsed car inspection. The police officer tells me to get the car inspected and the ticket will be reduced to a parking fine. Two hours after this, my car gets repossessed by my car finance company. This is three days before I start my new job. I am not able to get the car inspected, so I go to court to pay the ticket.)

Judge: “So, we can reduce this to a parking fine if you plead guilty. Did you get the car inspected?”

Me: “Unfortunately, the car got repossessed several hours after I got the ticket.”

Judge: “Oh, no! That’s terrible!”

Me: “Well, I have a job now and I’m doing well, so it could be worse. I’m hoping to get the car back on Friday, and then I’ll have it inspected.”

Judge: “I’m so glad to hear you’re doing better. You have enough on your plate, so I’m dismissing this. You have a good day!”

Me: “Thank you so much!”

(I got the car back and it is now inspected. I’m super grateful to the judge, because if I’d had to pay a fine, I wouldn’t have had enough money to recover my car.)

An Injury So Bad Your Foot Bone Ends Up In Your Neck

, , , , , | Right | December 1, 2018

(A customer comes up to the service desk, looking pained and wearing a neck brace.)

Customer: “You! I need to make a complaint!”

Me: “Certainly, sir, what seems to be the issue?”

Customer: “You f****** incompetent s***s spilled juice in one of the aisles yesterday! I slipped, and now I’ve got a f****** fractured metatarsal! You owe me big for this!” *holds his hand to his neck brace and cringes*

Me: “Oh, my! Hold on and let me get you a manager!”

(I summon the manager, who listens to the customer’s excessively loud complaining. He then pulls out his phone and starts typing on it.)

Manager: “So, to confirm I’ve got the facts straight, you definitely broke your metatarsal in the incident?”

Customer: “Yeah! Do I have to slap you with a lawsuit for it?”

(My manager hums softly as he studies his phone. He then leans over the counter and appears to be studying something on the ground around the customer.)

Manager: “Before you do, sir, just answer me this.”

(He turns his phone around to reveal the Wikipedia page on “metatarsal bones.”)

Manager: “Why are you wearing a neck brace when your metatarsal is located in your foot?”

(The customer sputters.)

Customer: “But… I… you… ngh… YOU HAVEN’T HEARD THE LAST OF THIS!”

(The customer stormed out cursing.)

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