On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 17

, , , , | Right | July 2, 2018

(It’s late at night and my shift ends in ten minutes. My managers have been harping on me all evening to get a credit application, so when I see this family, I think I might finally have a chance to convince them to apply. The man is middle-aged and his wife and son are looking at a new leather recliner that seats two. As I’m walking up to them, I hear the wife mention how much she likes the chair, and the man is taking pictures of her and their son sitting on it.)

Man: *to me* “Hey, come on over and join us. This chair looks awesome.”

(I cheerfully step up as he gestures for me to join the picture, thinking I really might get a credit app with this one. I crouch in front of the seat.)

Man: “No, no, no. On the seat with them.”

Son: “Dad, no. Don’t make her do anything weird.”

Me: *half-hearted chuckle* “Thank you, sir. But I prefer here. Now, if you really like this chair, I can save you…”

(I’m unable to finish as this man, three times my size — because I’m tiny — lumbers toward me, scoops me up by my underarms like a child, and proceeds to throw me into the air onto his wife and son who have to catch me. He then snaps back and starts taking pictures while his wife half laughs and half berates him. The son is apologizing and blushing like mad.)

Son: “Dad, you can’t just do that to people.”

Wife: “You shouldn’t have done that! She may have the store call the cops. You just accosted this poor girl! I am so sorry about him. Are you okay?”

(I shakily slide off the chair and nod, trying to find my bearings.)

Man: “She’s fine. We New Yorkers are like that, just having some fun. Right?”

(I force a smile at him and mutter that it’s the most interesting night since I started working at the store.)

Man: “See? She’s fine. All good.”

(He started walking away, muttering about what to look at next, and the wife and son apologized again before following him. At that point, I didn’t care anymore about credit applications. I ran to my manager, who laughed about and said there was nothing that could be done since I didn’t get hurt. I was so glad to be going home then.)

On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 16
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 15
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 14

Libraries Fighting Ignorance: Needed Now More Than Ever

, , , | Right | June 30, 2018

(I work at a public library. I’ve experienced many dumb people and a ton of stupid questions. I worry about the future of our world sometimes. While libraries aren’t as popular as they used to be, most people know how a library works. Not this time. A patron walks up to me at the circulation desk with a few books. I assume she wants to check them out, so I kindly ask for her library card.)

Patron: “What’s that? Why do I need that?!”

Me: “In order to check out books you’ll have to have a card. The books you check out will be put on your account; that way we know who has them and when they are due back.”

Patron: “That is stupid. So, I have to have a library card to check out some books?”

Me: “Yes, you have to have a library card in order to check out library books.”

(Not a hard concept. I guess common sense is lacking in today’s society.)

Their Confusion Is An Open Book

, , , , | Right | June 29, 2018

(I work at a public library and this is what I have to put up with. It happens a lot more often than you’d think. I don’t expect young children to understand how a library works, but you’d think a pre-teen would have some knowledge of library procedures.)

13-Year-Old Patron: “Are the books free?”

Me: “Well, you have to check them out with your library card. If they’re late or you lose them, then you’ll have a fine. But otherwise, they are free to borrow.”

13-Year-Old Patron: *looks extremely confused* “So… I can have it?”

Me: “The book belongs to the library, but you may check it out and return it on the due date.”

(He put the books back and walked out without saying anything. These are our future leaders, people.)

Doesn’t Put It Deli-cately

, , , , | Right | June 27, 2018

(I work in the deli of a big grocery store. It is around eight pm; our department closes at nine and, since we are a slow store, we usually have two of our three slicers cleaned and non-operational by 7:30. Our deli also doubles as a sandwich shop. I am on the deli counter helping a regular who is ordering an abnormally large number of products; meanwhile, an older lady comes up to be served at the deli. After about a minute, the lady approaches me while I’m helping the gentleman in front of her. Keep in mind that my coworker is helping a line of about three people at the sandwich shop while this occurs.)

Customer: “Is there anybody else working here that can help me?”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, but it’s just me and [Coworker] tonight; I will be with you as soon as I’m done helping this gentleman!”

(About five minutes pass and I finish helping the customer in front of her; it is now her turn in line.)

Me: “How are you today, ma’am? I apologize for your wait. What can I get for you?”

Customer: “Okay… Are you ready?”

Me: “Uh? Ready for what?”


Me: “Ma’am, I apologize, but we are down to one slicer; even if [Coworker] came over to help you, still—” *customer interrupts loudly*

Customer: “I don’t f****** care! You should have done something about it, knowing that that man had such a large order!”

Me: “I actually didn’t know he had such a large order, ma’am. Since we don’t take numbers here I—”

(The customer interrupts me again and continues her tirade; she asks for a manager, so I have my coworker page him over. My coworker has finished with her line and walks over to me to see what is going on.)

Coworker: “Ma’am, what seems to be the problem today?”

Me: “I stood here for twenty f****** minutes while you helped those people who came up behind me! You should have come over here and helped me first!”

Coworker: “I understand, ma’am; however, even if I had came over here, I would’ve had to wait for [My Name] to finish with his customer to use the slicer. Your wait would’ve been just as long, and then the customers at the sandwich shop would’ve been left there with nobody helping.”

Customer: “I don’t care about them! You saw me standing here for twenty minutes!”

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t believe it was quite twenty minutes; the gentleman before you came up at 7:55 and it is now 8:04.”

Customer: “Oh! So, now you think you’re going to tell me how long I waited? Oh, perfect!” *right at this time the store manager walks up to address the super-patient lady*

Customer: *directed at manager* “Oh, my! My long-lost friend!”

Manager: “What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

Customer: “I waited here for twenty minutes while [My Name] and [Coworker] did nothing about it! I fully expect you to take disciplinary action against those two lazy people! They both deserve to be fired!

Manager: “Absolutely, ma’am. I’ll take care of it right now.”

Customer: “Good!”

(Our manager starts yelling at us in front of the customer. I am appalled because normally he would have us go to the office to talk about it. The customer gives me a smug look and walks away. Once she is out of sight my manager stopped yelling.)

Manager: “So, guys… what did that crazy b**** want this time?”

(Apparently this pleasant human being is a repeat offender.)

Me: “I’m not sure; she actually didn’t even order anything from the deli…”

Do you hate bad behavior? Well, misery loves company. Join us at our Antisocial collection in the NAR Store!

Getting A Short Service By Not Getting A Short Service

, , , , | Working | June 27, 2018

(I’m a woman who has had my hair all lengths — to my butt, shoulder-length, shaved, etc. I’ve been happy with all of it. I get really into undercuts, and feel super confident with it. The guy that used to cut my hair quit, so a new woman is cutting it. I explain how I want it and show her pictures of how it was cut last time: shaved on a number two clipper on the underside of my hair.)

Stylist: “Are you sure you want it cut like that?”

Me: “Yes. I’ve I had it cut like that before.” *shows her photos again*

Stylist: “I’ll just cut a little with the shears.”

(She snipped and snipped with the shears after I told her to SHAVE IT. Finally, after a half hour of her refusing to shave my head, I paid her and the next day got it shaved at another salon. I don’t know if she had some bad opinions about girls with short hair. My aunt does. But I didn’t pay her to give an opinion on my hair length; I paid her to cut it how I asked. I never went back.)

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