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You Just Can’t Count On Some People

, , , , , | Working | September 15, 2020

I’ve just returned home after three years of college, and I go back to the youth club I used to volunteer with. Things have changed a lot since I was here last, and since I used to be in charge of kitchen/sales, it’s only natural for me to step into that my first night back. Because we meet on Fridays, we sell, among other things, a large variety of candy.

It’s the end of the night and we’re packing up. I’m looking over the price list when the guy in charge of procurement — an old classmate and friend of mine — comes in. The real prices are in Norwegian Kroner, so the prices stated are just a rough estimate.

Friend: “You look puzzled, [My Name].”

Me: “What? Oh, no, I was just checking the price list.”

Friend: “Yeah, some of the prices are a little weird, I know.”

Me: “Yeah, why are we selling [candy bar #1] for $1.33? And [candy bar #2] for $1.56? Wouldn’t it be easier to keep it an even number? I mean, you’ve always complained about being left with so much small change at the end of the day.”

Friend: “I know, but I thought we should keep the prices close to the local stores’. I actually got the [candy bar #1]s on sale, two for a dollar.”

Me: “So, why not sell them for a dollar, then? And [candy bar #2] sells for over two dollars in some stores, so you could sell those for $1.90 or something to make up for the difference.”

Friend: “What?”

He seems really confused at this point, and I find myself actually talking slower.

Me: *Sighs* “If you paid one dollar for two bars, you essentially bought one bar for fifty cents, right? So, if you sell one bar for a dollar, you’ve made fifty cents. I can see why you’d want to try and price-match with the stores, and you could potentially make a few extra bucks a week, but if you’re offering the kids the same deal as the stores, what’s stopping them from buying in there instead of here?”

He didn’t have a good answer for that and seemed genuinely confused about the whole thing. He’s twenty-four and works at a grocery store, yet simple math still escapes him. He even suggested I use a calculator during sales, because counting is apparently difficult.

Boy, What A Charmer!

, , , , | Right | August 30, 2020

I work at a rather small dry cleaning place. A man comes in to pick up a suit with his young son. Usually, our customers’ children are too shy to talk to us.

Son: “Do you know how old I am?”

Me: *Taken aback* “No! How old are you?”

Son: “I’m four and a half years old.”

Me: “Wow. I’m twenty-one. I’m old!”

Son: *Thinking hard* “Yes.

I continue the transaction with the customer. 

Son: *To his father* “Dad, can I press the green button?”

Customer: “Of course you can!”

The customer puts in his card into the machine, and I go to type in the price, pressing the green button when I do.

Son: “But I wanted to press the green button!”

Me: “Oh, I am so sorry. You can do it now.”

He presses the green button, and two receipts come out, one for the customer and one for me. 

Me: *To the customer* “Would you like your receipt?”

Customer: “Yes, please!”

Son: “Daddy, can I have that piece of paper?”

Customer: “No, sorry, Daddy needs this one.”

Son: *To me* “Can I have that piece of paper?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I need this one. But I can print out another one for you.”

Son: “Yes, please!”

I print out another receipt for the little boy. This one is wider and longer than the one I gave his father. 

Me: “You’re getting a big one!”

I hand him the receipt. 

Son: “Ooooh! That is big!”

The customer thanks me and says goodbye as he leaves. They turn the corner when I hear:

Son: “Bye-bye!”

Me: “Bye!”

The boy comes running into the store again.

Son: “Bye! I’ll—” *starts thinking* “—see you tomorrow?”

Me: “No, you won’t, sweetie.”

Son: “No… I’ll see you some other day, then!”

Me: “Yes, you will! Definitely!”

Son: “See you then! Bye!”

After he left, I couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day. That little boy made my entire week!

Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 6

, , , | Right | August 17, 2020

I’m a female tire fitter, which is a profession highly dominated by male workers. I get a lot of comments about being a female, mostly good, but then you have the a**holes. The receptionist tells me to open up the garage for a customer; I start to guide the elderly gentleman in. When he stops the car, I open the door for him. 

Me: “Hello, sir, will you please put the gear in neutral and the emergency brake off for me?”

Customer:No!” 

Me: “…”

Customer: “You don’t even know what you are doing! Don’t touch my car!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t understand. Are you not here for new tires?”

Customer: “Yes, but you don’t touch it! Why the f*** are you here?! Women have no business being in a garage! Their brains are the same size as a chicken’s brain!”

Me: “…”

I don’t know what to do with myself; I have never experienced anything like this before. The only people here are me and a male rookie, and it’s his first day in the garage. The customer points at my trainee.

Customer: “He is going to change my tires!”

Me: “Sir, this is his second day; he has never changed tires on his own before.”

Customer: “I want him! You will not touch anything!”

The customer had already paid for his new tires, and this was the first time I had encountered anything like this. Not knowing what else to do, I guided my terrified rookie in how to do everything, under the scrutinizing stare of the customer who yelled every time it looks like I was about to touch anything. 

Later, when the boss came back to work, we told him what happened. He got so angry, he told me that if he had been there he would have kicked that guy out so quickly his head would have spun around! 

Thankfully, I’ve never encountered anyone as bad as him again, but I do have more stories, for sure!

Related:
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 5
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 4
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 3
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 2
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries

The Wheels Of Stereotypes Still Go Around

, , , | Right | August 14, 2020

I am a female tire fitter; it’s a profession that has mostly male workers. I get a lot of weird reactions to me being a female. We are a small department, so when the phone rings, all the phones ring, and whoever is free can answer.

Me: “[Well-Known Tire Shop], this is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

The caller is also female.

Caller: “Yes, hello. I would like to know the price of some tires.”

Me: “Then you called the right place; what size tires are you looking for?”

Caller: “It’s for a Ford.”

Me: “That is great; do you remember the size?”

Caller: *Obviously annoyed* “That is your job.”

Me: “Okay, do you remember your license plate number?”

She gives me the number.

Me: “So, I estimate that you have not changed the rim size since you bought the car; in that case, the size would be [size]. Now, what price range and qualities are you looking for?”

Caller: “I bought some summer tires from you last year; I want the exact same! But in winter.”

Me: “All right, and what brand was that?”

Caller: “Ford.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, but what brand were the tires?”

Caller: *Extremely annoyed* “Don’t you know your job?! Tires for Ford!”

Me: “I understand that, ma’am, but there are no tires made specifically for Ford, as most brands fit. It’s the qualities of the tires that differ.”

Caller: “You are making me unsure of the whole purchase. I want tires for a Ford!”

Me: “These are the best tires we have: [Popular Brand], and those would be [price]. That is the total cost with the job included; how does that sound?”

Caller: “And those are for Ford?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, if the size I’ve guessed is right, these will fit your car fine.”

Caller: “Are those the same tires I got last year?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t know, ma’am. If you could physically check the tires you are talking about, I will tell you if they are the same brand and size.”

Caller: “Don’t you know anything?! I need tires for a Ford! You are making me very unsure. Last time I spoke to a man; I want to speak to a man!”

Me: *Fed up* “Of course you can speak to a man.”

I transferred her to a male colleague, who then sold her exactly the same tires I tried to sell her with no problems from her.

Cat-atonic, Part 2

, , , | Right | July 20, 2020

The customer is an older lady.

Customer: “I got a paper in the mail. There was a book with a cat on it. Do you have the book?”

Me: “Do you know which paper it was?”

Customer: “I got it in the mail.”

Me: “Do you remember the author or the title of the book, then?”

Customer: “No, I don’t remember. It had a cat on the cover.”

Me: “Was it a book about cat breeds or owning a cat?”

The customer just stares silently.

Me: “Was it a novel? It might have been ‘Knut: Nobody’s Baby’ by [Popular Norgwegian Author]?”

Customer: “I don’t know. It had a cat.”

Me: “Do you remember anything about what it’s about?”

Customer: “There was a cat on the cover.”

I give up and hand her the catalogue for the big sale all the Norwegian bookshops are having.

Me: “This is the only catalogue we’ve given out recently. Can you see if you find it in here?”

She looked through it, and the next time I looked her way, she was gone. I still have no idea what she was looking for. It mystifies me that people think we can read their minds.

Related:
Cat-atonic


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