When It Comes To Scam Prevention, You’re A Seasoned Chicken

, , , , | Right | July 30, 2018

(I have been working at this supermarket for years and have encountered this woman on a weekly basis. As a store, we have a policy: hot chickens are available from four pm to seven pm, guaranteed. If we don’t have one available, you get a free coupon for your next chicken. This woman arrives at my counter at 3:30, prior to me placing out the hot chickens.)

Customer: “So, are your hot chickens out yet?”

Me: “Not yet, ma’am, about another ten minutes and they’ll be done.”

Customer: “But your guarantee is four to seven.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, they’ll be done by then.”

(She leaves shortly before I place the chickens out, hot and ready for four pm. She doesn’t buy one. Hours go by. Now it’s around 6:30. I spot the woman waiting behind one of the counters, watching me cook. I still have about six chickens, but only of one kind as the other flavors have been purchased. She comes over.)

Customer: “I want a seasoned chicken; where are they?”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we’ve run out. I still have originals, though!”

(I show her the six we have on hand.)

Customer: “But I wanted seasoned. They are guaranteed. Can I get a free coupon?”

Me: “No, ma’am, the guarantee is under the assumption we don’t have any left at all. If we still have chickens in the case, it’s not valid.”

(She storms off and doesn’t buy a chicken. I don’t see this woman again for a couple of weeks. While working and having a rather busy day, I note that we thankfully only have two chickens available at close to seven pm. We usually have too many and have to chill them overnight for people to buy cold for a discount the next day. I am preparing my cases to break down and clean when the woman arrives.)

Customer: “Are these the only two chickens left?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am! They’re our new flavor, too. If you’d like, I can put a dollar-off sticker on them for it being so late.”

Customer: “But I wanted three chickens. You guarantee chickens until seven pm. I needed three and you only have two. I’d like a free chicken coupon.”

Me: “No, ma’am, I can’t give you one. If I had no chickens available for you, then you could have one, but I have two here. As long as you’re able to get a chicken, it doesn’t count.”

(She called a manager on me, but it didn’t work and she left. Apparently, up front she’s notorious for returning the chickens or other products as defective and getting the “double your money back” policy. She still shows up every now and again to harass my new employees.)

Foiled By His Own Design

, , , , , | Working | July 30, 2018

(I am the receptionist of an advertisement company. We never advertise open positions anywhere, and each department works with a recruitment firm to pull in workers. Each department also works more or less independently, and there are ten departments. A person comes in, and I greet them like I do everyone.)

Me: “Hello there! How can I help you today?”

Person: “Your manager. Immediately.”

Me: “Oh, dear. May I ask what this in regards to so I know which manager to contact?”

Person:Your manager. You are making me wait, and I’m pretty sure that’s not how you’re meant to do your job.”

Me: “My ‘manager’ is the CEO of the company, and he’s in Cancun this week. Maybe I can help you?”

Person: “Give me his cell phone, then.”

Me: “I’m afraid I can’t give that information out. If you tell me what this is about, I can figure out which of the department heads I should call down to help.”

Person: “Wow. So, you’re just going to refuse me like that?”

Me: “Sir, I’m trying to help you.”

Person: “Look, honey, I’m a famous designer, highly sought-after. Your CEO personally requested I come and discuss a position at your company. Is that enough information for you? Can you finally call someone down to talk to me who knows what they’re doing?”

Me: “Certainly, sir. Let me personally go fetch the HR lead.”

Person: “Finally.”

(I give the HR lead a run-down of what this guy has said to me and what he wants. She snorts and comes down wearing her most enthusiastic face.)

HR Head: “Hi! I hear you’re looking for a job?”

Person: “Yes. Your CEO told me to come in and that he’d have a place for me.”

HR Head: “Oh, wow, really? That’s just amazing!”

Person: “Exactly. Here is my resume and my card. Now, may I have a tour? Then we can discuss the terms of my new position.”

HR Head: “Ah, yes. Well, so, you see, the thing is…”

(She rips his resume and card in half and puts them in my garbage.)

HR Head: “…the CEO personally hired [My Name] because she is one of the most capable people here. She knows everyone, every project, every department, and basically runs this place. Anyone who would treat her the way you did would never be welcomed here. I have to ask you to leave now before we are forced to call security. Thanks so much for coming! Bye!”

(He shouted some obscenities, and then left when security strolled up front to see what the fuss was about. Good riddance to bad rubbish.)

Bleed For This Job

, , , , , | Right | July 27, 2018

(I am a relatively new employee at this store. On this day I’m showing a customer an expensive “All-In-One” model of food processor.)

Me: “With the capacity and variable speeds, you can pretty much chop, slice, grind, puree, and do anything else you can think of, with pretty much any food.”

Customer: “How do you change the blades?”

Me: “Oh, they just pop out and can be snapped back in.”

Customer: “Demonstrate it for me.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “Swap the blades out. I want to see you do it before I put my hands anywhere near this thing.”

Me: “Okay. Well, just so you know, I’ve never done this before, but from the instruction manual, it looks like you just have to grip them carefully by the center, so you don’t get near the sharp parts.”

(I attempt to remove the blade that’s in the processor, only to find it appears to be stuck. Gently, I try to press different parts, seeing if there’s a part I have to depress to release the blade, and find nothing.)

Customer: “Is this going to take long? I can’t stand around all day.”

Me: “Just a moment. Again, this is the first time I’ve tried this, so I just want to be careful.”

(I keep trying to pop the blade out, to no success. Suddenly I spy a coworker walking past us.)

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], could you help me here? I’m not sure if I’m doing this right and—”

(I suddenly feel something hit the food processor hard, while my hand is still in it. My fingers promptly slip and get sliced open as they accidentally brush across the sharp edge of the blade.)


(I yank my hand out to see blood dripping down my fingers.)

Customer: “Okay, so, at least I now know it can cut like it’s supposed to. Can I get one that doesn’t have blood all over it? I don’t want to catch any diseases from you.”

(Mercifully, I only needed a few band-aids, but we had to damage the display model of the processor out due to the biological hazard.)

I’m A BASIC B****

, , , , , , , , | Learning | July 25, 2018

This is back when we have orange monochrome monitors and 5.25 floppy disks. My science class has this nifty idea to integrate the use of the computer lab into the curriculum.

Basically, we are to create a small, multiple-choice quiz program about the current subject. The code is all in place, and we just have to edit specific sections to add the content. Their mistake is that three or four students share the same floppy, just in a different period. I know enough of the Basic computer language to figure out how the software works. I change the answer responses of the quiz of the kid in the other class. Instead of, “Correct, good job!” and, “Incorrect, try again,” I change it to the middle-school sarcastic, “Way to go…” and a super naughty, “Wrong, you dumb b****!”

Since there are only two to three main suspects who share the disk, they find me out pretty quick. I don’t get in any real trouble. They want to know how I knew how to do that, and if I changed any other files. Since I am a boring, quiet introvert, I pretty much get away without any detention, just a good scare.

Tired of being disrespected? Well, misery loves company. Join us at our Antisocial collection in the NAR Store!

Won’t Have To Bear With Him Much Longer

, , , | Right | July 24, 2018

Customer: “Can I kill a bear with this knife?” *pointing at bowie knife*

Me: “Are you Davy Crockett?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Then probably not.”

Customer: “Where should I go for if I’m being attacked by a bear?”

Me: “Go for the jugular; you’ll be fine.” *secretly hoping that Darwinism happens*

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