My brother is searching for a job. He sent me a text informing me of the progress, which read, “I know job searching!” Attached to the text was a picture of a Word-document, which read:
I WANT A JOB!
+ Know some stuff
+ Is Mom and Dad’s favorite child
+ Reaches high places
He’s 26 years old. (And almost 6’3″).
(I work at a retail store in a calm, family-oriented part of town, where most people know each other and are genuinely nice. A buddy of mine comes in and stands last in line for my coworker’s register and I open a new one to relieve her. Said buddy notices first and comes to me and I start ringing up his items. The woman who was before him in coworker’s register suddenly sees me ringing him up and runs over:)
Customer: “I WAS FIRST!”
Buddy: “Excuse me?”
Customer: “ARE YOU DEAF? I WAS CLEARLY BEFORE YOU!”
Buddy: “Sorry, but maybe you would’ve noticed if you weren’t so consumed by your phone. Besides, I have less stuff than you, so please calm down.”
(At this point I’m just standing there quite dumbfounded really.)
Customer: “WELL, I’VE NEVER HEARD SUCH DISRESPECT!”
(She then suddenly grabs her items from her cart and literally THROWS them upfront over my register, over his groceries, down behind me, and on me. Then she fixes her coat and storms out clicking her heels like she owns the place.)
Buddy: “Yeah, besides your green cucumber outfit, this place ain’t so bad!”
(I finished his purchase and apologised for not doing anything but he just hushed me and bought me a chocolate I couldn’t say no to. Never saw that customer again.)
(I’m working at a local thrift shop and I am going about my business in the store when a customer comes up to me with a sweater.)
Customer: “How much is this sweater? The tag is gone!”
(I at once suspect she tore off the tag since it’s happened before and I hung out that sweater just a couple of hours ago with the tag still intact.)
Me: “That’s about $15.” *I know it’s really $10*
Customer: “NO! IT’S F****** NOT! It’s $10!”
Me: *grins* “Oh? How do you know this? The tag is gone, remember?”
(The customer ran out the door shouting obscenities towards me and I never saw her again.)
(I work at the local fish market. We keep live cod in fish tanks so that the customers can get them as fresh as possible.)
Customer: “Hello. That fish in the tank over there. Is that fresh?”
Me: “Well, yes, it’s alive.”
Customer: “I see that, but is it fresh? How long has it been living in there?”
Me: “A few days.”
Customer: “Then it’s not fresh!”
(When I was born, there were serious complications, and doctors had to step in to keep both me and my mother alive. They tore all my muscles and damaged a lot of nerves in my neck. I went to a physical therapist for many years. I hardly ever notice it now, 20 years later, but once in a while, after lifting heavy items for a long period of time, my back acts up and it hurts a lot. All of my coworkers know this, and despite this, I’m a very hard worker. A customer in his 40s walks in, skips right across the line, and comes to me, where I’m currently working on a problem with a coffee machine. He sets an empty can of gas, the steel type, down on the floor next to me. I have equipment all over the counter and floor, trying to figure out the problem with the machine. It is also worth mentioning that I live in a small town, where everyone knows everyone. I have hardly ever dealt with rude customers because of this, and it’s well known that we can take abuse until a certain point.)
Customer: “I need you to go out to your gas cabinet and fetch me a new one of these.”
Me: “Sure, let me just clean up a little here.”
Customer: “Do you think I have time for that?! Do you know who I am? I have other places to be!”
Me: “All right, then.”
(I shuffle all the pieces and tubes onto the counter, hoping no one will brush them off and step on them. I run out to the cabinet, open the lock, grab a new can, and head back inside. Right as I walk into the store, I get insanely painful cramps in my back, I manage to scoot over to the customer and set the can down, obviously in pain, but I smile and shrug it off to my coworkers.)
Customer: “You teens are so useless these days! All you do is stare at your phones and your computers! Look at you, you can’t even carry a can of gas! You’re all useless! Now hurry up, for f***’s sake! I’m going to a very important job interview over at [Local Entrepreneur, with the owner’s name as a company name]!”
(The other customers have been startled at his behavior by now, but at the mentioning of said company, many of them snicker.)
Me: “You know what? My neck was nearly broken when I was born. I have worked at [Gas Station] for three years, and never have I had a more rude and pretentious customer than you. I want you to calm down so we can finish this transaction. You’re startling the other customers.”
Customer: “Does it look like I give a s***?!”
Me: “That’s it.”
(I pick up the phone and dial a number. My boss is looking at me with approval.)
Me: *on the phone* “Hey, Dad, I want you to know there’s a man in his 40s, drives a green Honda CRV, who said he’s heading over for an interview with you today. He has been a real pain in the butt, and if you hire him, I’m not giving you grandchildren.”
(The customer’s face went pale. He looked at me, and then at the other customers who were now laughing at him, and scurried out the door, leaving both his old and the new can behind. My dad didn’t hire him, either.)
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