Unfiltered Story #141575

, , | Unfiltered | February 22, 2019

(I am on the sales floor offering to help customers as they browse. I come across a woman looking at beads, which come with different colored labels. It is typical for only one color label of beads to be on sale at a time, and the signs hung in this area clearly state which ones are on sale each week.)

Me: Is there anything I can help you with, ma’am?

Customer: Oh, yes. I was wondering if any of these beads are on sale?

(She holds out her hand to display a few strings of beads with different colored labels)

Me: Well, if we look at the sign, it says that only the green label beads are on sale this week. So all of the ones here that have a green tag will ring up at the sale price.

Customer: Okay. (ponders) Are these ones on sale?

(She holds a string of beads that have a blue tag)

Me: I’m afraid not. Only the ones with a green tag are on sale right now.

(I look at her and she still looks puzzled)

Me: The ones you have in your hand right now have a blue tag (pointing to the tag). But the sign (pointing to sign) says here that only the green label beads are on sale. So it’s just the ones that have this color tag (pointing to a string of beads with a green label).

Customer: Hmm, alright. But are these on sale?

(She holds up the same beads with the blue tag)

Me: No, those are not on sale. They have a blue tag. None of the beads with blue, red, or brown tags are on sale this week. Only the ones with this color (pointing again to a green label string) label are part of the sale.

Customer: Oh. Then are these on sale? (Again referring to the blue label beads in her hand)

Me: No, ma’am. Those beads do not have a green label and are therefore not part of this sale.

Customer: (thinking) Okay. I guess I’ll just figure it out. This is so confusing… thanks for the help though!

Me: (Trying to smile) No worries, ma’am. If you need anything else, just find an associate and they’ll be happy to help.

Got Their Wires Crossed

, , , , , | Working | February 20, 2019

(I am wiring up some phone lines at home. Being the handy person I am, I have all the right tools for the job, but I need extra wire. Now that everyone is on cell phones, it’s easy to forget that there used to be three types of wire used for phones: four twisted wires inside a flesh-tone tube, four light wires in a gray, and a combination of the two that was like a spring. The right tool I have is a crimper that attaches clips to the end of the flat type. My wife is going out, so I decide to have her pick some up.)

Me: “I need fifty feet of phone cable. I need this kind. Here is a sample so you know exactly what to get.”

(I hand her six inches of cable and figure that this could not be screwed up. An hour later, she returns with the wrong kind of wire.)

Me: “This is the wrong wire.”

Wife: “The guy said you needed this kind.”

Me: *inwardly face-palming* “You do realize that there was a reason I sent a sample with you?”

(I wasn’t upset with my wife, but I really needed to smack the employee for the debacle. I knew my wife well enough that I knew a sample was needed to make sure I got the right thing. But what idiot employee, shown exactly what is needed, blindly decides you need something else?)

In A Spot Of Bother

, , , , , | Healthy | February 19, 2019

(For a month or so, I’ve had a very small lump right at the base of my hairline on my neck. I don’t worry too much about it, as it doesn’t seem to be growing and isn’t painful at all, until one day it very suddenly floods with blood, like a blood blister. I have a very strong family history of melanoma, so anything on my skin that changes color rapidly is cause for alarm, so the next morning I go to the emergency clinic for an opinion as they are the ones that will see me the soonest.)

Doctor #1: “Okay, let’s have a look

Me: *tipping my head to show him the lump* “It was the same color as my skin before last night when it turned red like that.”

Doctor #1: “Hmm… Well, it sort of just looks like you may have broken a capillary, but because of that, it’s a bit hard to see what might be under it… Oh, and what’s all that?”

(He points to my shoulder, which is healing up after a nasty acne breakout)

Me: “Oh, I went and visited my home state a week ago; I always break out something awful while I’m there, and it’s just healing up. And besides, the lump was there before then.”

Doctor #1: “Hmm… Well, I think we should still get you on something for that. That lump could still be acne-related.”

(This seems reasonable enough, so he prescribes me an oral medication for acne and a cream for topical use. He tells me to use both for three days and then come back to check the progress. I do so, and when I return we have the following conversation)

Doctor #1: “Oh, your shoulder looks much better!”

Me: “Er… Yeah, well, it’s had a few more days to heal.”

Doctor #1: “So, we should definitely keep you on the acne medication.”

Me: *pause* “Sure.” *with no intention of actually keeping up the entirely pointless medication* “But that lump hasn’t reacted at all.”

(He checks to see that I’m correct)

Doctor #1: “Huh! Well, then, do you want it off?”

Me: “Well… I mean, I don’t know what it is.”

Doctor: “Oh, well, that’s called a nevi. It’s just a harmless skin growth for the most part, but given your family history of skin cancer, I very strongly suggest you get it removed.”

Me: “Well… All right…”

Doctor #1: “Great! I’ll be right back!”

(He does the procedure right then — which is not fun, by the way — burning off the “nevi” with an electrical current. I’m honestly a bit hesitant, but I don’t want to be that patient that insists I know more than a medical professional. After he’s done, he starts poking me in the shoulder.)

Doctor #1: “Oh, what’s this here? You should really get this looked at, too.”

(I think about the spot he’s poking. It’s what I know for a fact is a completely benign mole. It’s perfectly healthy and I’ve had it for ages, and I’m beginning to suspect that this doctor is just of the opinion that I shouldn’t have any sort of blemish anywhere on me.)

Me: “Er… Thanks, but I think we’ll leave that one alone.”

Doctor #1: “Are you sure? I really think you should have it looked at.”

Me: *now feeling even more uneasy about the whole thing* “I’ll keep that in mind, but I think we’re done for today.”

Doctor #1: “All right, suit yourself!”

(I go home and let the burn start to heal, but I also look up the word, “nevi.” It means, “mole.” I cannot express how much my complaint was NOT a mole. I kick myself for letting this guy burn whatever it was off, but it quickly becomes apparent that what he ACTUALLY did was burn off the layer of skin covering whatever was causing my complaint. There’s still a bump there, and now it’s much more obvious as it’s turned into a bright red nodule. I do the thing you’re not supposed to do and start Googling, as I figure I can’t cause more harm by looking things up. The theory I land on is that the bump is actually an inflamed lymph node — which I did not previously know could be that near the surface — reacting to some previously unnoticed infection. This is further backed up when, after about another week, I start noticing some more lumps further under the skin, as well as developing a headache localized to that side of my head. Finally, I make an actual appointment at my regular doctor’s office and explain the whole story to him. He actually stares at me for a moment after I tell the story.)

Doctor #2: “He… he tried to burn it off?

Me: “Yes. So, you know, that particular lump is going to look especially bad, so you might want to look at the others for better reference.”

Doctor #2: “Yeah, I’d better.”

(He comes to the exact same conclusion I did, and further traces the issue to a tooth I was preparing to have a crown put on. I hadn’t connected the two because, while the tooth definitely needs work, it wasn’t really painful so I wouldn’t have thought it was infected)

Doctor #2: “Okay, so… we’re not going to be, you know, giving you any freaking creams for this because, you know, they’re your lymph nodes… I just… God!”

Me: “Yeah, I figured not. Antibiotics, then?”

Doctor #2: “Yes. And we’ll do some blood work too… I just…. He tried to burn off your lymph node!

(I left feeling rather vindicated, and as of writing this up, my lymph nodes have finally started settling down, and my headache is gone. Would have been nice not to have a chunk of my neck burnt off first, though.)

Scream And Sugar

, , , , | Right | February 15, 2019

(A customer orders a large coffee, and requests cream and sugar in it, as well as a few cream cups on the side. I go to clarify:)

Me: “So, you wanted cream and sugar inside the coffee, as well as a couple on the side, right?”

Customer: *uppity* “Yeah, I wanted three or four, as well, as the eight inside, as I ordered it.”

Me: “All right, just trying to clarify.”

(I hand her my screen to show her, which has the coffee and two cups on the side.)

Customer: *more demanding* “Um, I said three or four!”

(I return with two more cups.)

Customer: *huffs* “I’m just going to point out that you’d seem less hostile if you smiled more!”

(I did smile, and as she was leaving, I wondered how some people could be so rude over a couple of cups of cream.)

Gun Controlling The Situation

, , , , | Legal Right | February 3, 2019

(Years ago, I played in church orchestra with a guy who occasionally packed a gun. His wife said he’d sometimes plop down on a metal folding chair with a clank from the gun. This guy was also pretty small — maybe 5’4″, 163 cm, tall. One day he is going into a convenience store and the clerk is locking the door as he goes in.)

Friend: “What’s going on?”

Clerk: “Dude back there has been shoplifting. I’ve already called the police.”

(My friend pays for his gas, and about that time the crook has found himself locked in. The shouting with the clerk quickly escalates into a knock-down, drag-out fight. My friend just stands next to the popcorn machine in the store and nibbles a little popcorn and watches the fight like it is a show. In the end, the clerk manages to wallop the guy over the head with a bottle and he goes down. The clerk came to my friend:)

Clerk: “Why didn’t you help me?”

Friend: “Why? You looked like you were doing pretty good.”

Clerk: “Yeah, but if I wasn’t, he was coming after you next.”

Friend: *pulling the pistol from his pocket* “No, he wasn’t.”

Clerk: *shocked* “You got a license for that thing?”

Friend: “Nope.”

Clerk: *unlocking the door* “Get out of here before the cops get here!”

(I love crazy people.)

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