Strive For It To Be Five

, , , | Right | September 24, 2018

(I end up having dinner with an acquaintance — not the nicest of human beings — every few weeks, for convoluted social reasons. Thursday night, we are at a popular fast food restaurant, but due to the time of day we have the place to ourselves.)

Cashier: *to acquaintance* “Your total is $5.29, ma’am.”

Acquaintance: “Shoot, I only have a $5 bill. Can’t you just take that and tell the register you got all the money?”

(The cashier and I are speechless.)

Acquaintance: *in a wheedling tone* “Come on. It’s only $0.29! What difference does it make?”

Me: *recovering* “[Acquaintance], come on. If she did that kind of thing, she’d lose her job!”

Acquaintance: *pouting* “Fine, I’ll use my debit card.”

(The next week, on Wednesday night, we’re at the same restaurant, it is super quiet, and the same cashier has just finished ringing my acquaintance up. From the order counter, we can see the two other employees sitting and doing paperwork.)

Cashier: *to acquaintance* “Your total is $5.29, ma’am.”

Acquaintance: “Oops! All I have is a five. That’s close enough, right?”

Employee: *in back, in what was obviously meant to be a whisper but carries clearly to the counter* “What is wrong with people? That’s the second time in a week someone’s tried that scam!”

Acquaintance: “Um, put it on my debit card, I guess…”

Even Jesus Isn’t Coming Out Of This One

, , , , | Healthy | September 23, 2018

(I go to the ER one night for suspected appendicitis. The nurse orders a blood draw and urine sample.)

Nurse: “We’ll run your blood to see if anything is unusual, run a pregnancy test on your urine, and then go from there.”

Me: “No need. There’s no chance that I’m pregnant.”

Nurse: “We have to make sure.”

Me: “I’m sure. If you look at my intake, you’ll see that I had a complete hysterectomy six years ago. I also haven’t had sex with a penis in four years. If by some dark magic I’m pregnant, I’ve got bigger things to worry about than my appendix.”

(The nurse didn’t care, and the doctor ordered a pregnancy test, anyway. Lo and behold, it was negative.)

Unfiltered Story #121977

, , , | Unfiltered | September 21, 2018

(I work nights when the store is closed. Last night, shortly before I got to work a disgruntled customer drove her SUV through one of our entrances and out the other so instead of working my usual shift I’m helping clean up and make sure no one comes in. I’m sweeping up her exit point when a young man rolls up on his bicycle.)

Young Man: “Did the soda and beer aisle get hurt?”

(I figure he wants to buy something.)

Me: “No, but you can’t go down it.”

Young Man: “No, I don’t want it now because you’re closed. I just wanted to make sure I could get some tomorrow.”

Me: “We’re probably not going to open tomorrow.”

(He left looking confused and dejected. Also later that night a man drove up asked if he could take pictures of the damage and then told me his Bipolar wife was the lady who drove through the store.)

Should Have Chainsaw That Coming

, , , , | Right | September 20, 2018

(I am wearing black slacks, high heels, and a grey polo with a logo from the car dealership I work for. The staff in the hardware store wear jeans and bright orange aprons. I am in the garden section, and I ask an employee if they have any succulents left because it’s late in the season. She goes off to check, and about two minutes later an older man stops about fifteen feet away and raises his voice so I can hear him.)

Customer: “Hey! Hey, you! Where are the hose nozzles?”

Me: “Um, I don’t work here.”

Customer: “You don’t?!”

Me: “Nope!” *points to logo on my shirt* “I work for [Dealership].

Customer: “So, you don’t know where the hose nozzles are.”

(I raise an eyebrow and shake my head, and he walks away a little pissed off. Soon the actual store employee returns and points me in the right direction; she even opens their brand new shipment so I can get fresh ones! As I am picking through the succulents and putting them in my cart, ANOTHER customer walks over to me. I am currently bending over to get a closer look at some plants on the lower rows, and this middle-aged man bends over next to me.)

Customer: “I have a chainsaw, and I need some new chains, but I need a very specific—”

Me: “I don’t mean to be rude and cut you off, sir, but I don’t work here.”

(The customer leans back and looks at me like I’m crazy.)

Customer: “You don’t work here? Are you sure?”

Me: *points to logo on shirt* “Yeah, pretty sure I don’t.”

Customer: “Can you show me, anyway?”

Me: “I honestly wouldn’t know the first place to look, and quite frankly, I’m not going over to the chainsaws with a man I don’t know.” *laughs*

(The guy suddenly gets angry. I think he is getting angry over my joke, but it turns out he is pissed I don’t know where the chainsaw chains are.)

Customer: “Well, thanks for absolutely nothing. Thank God I own a [Different Model than the one I work for].”

(He turns and literally stomps away. I yell after him.)

Me: “Maybe you should try looking for someone actually wearing a orange apron? They’re super helpful!”

(He flipped me off as he turned the corner. Thank goodness he doesn’t own a [Company Model]!)

Man, What A Wait!

, , , , , | Right | September 19, 2018

(I work in a service department for an extremely busy dealership, and I am the ONLY woman in the entire department. We have a business office staff of ladies that filter all calls for the dealer. I get at least one call a week similar to this, but this conversation was particularly rude and has stuck with me.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Dealership] service department.”

Customer: “Are you f****** kidding me?! I just talked to you! I told you to transfer me to service!”

Me: “I think you spoke with one of the young ladies in our business office. I definitely haven’t spoken to you until just now.”

Customer: “But I asked for service and she transferred me to you!”

Me: “Seeing as how I work in service, I believe she transferred you to the right place!”

(I’m keeping my voice friendly because calls like this happen all the time. However, what this customer says next is one for the books.)

Customer:You… work in service?”

Me: *extra friendly* “Yep!”

(The man on the phone actually starts laughing.)

Customer: “Yeah, okay, sweetheart. Transfer me to one of the service men.”

(Oh, no, he didn’t.)

Me: “About that… They are actually all currently on the phone helping other customers, and it might be a while. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Customer: “I highly doubt that, babe. I’ll wait.”

(Truth be told, there is no wait to speak to a service advisor. I let the guy stay on hold for about ten minutes before I pick it up again. I am careful to keep my voice polite and bubbly, because I am actually pretty pissed off about the way this customer has been addressing me.)

Me: “Still waiting to speak with a service man, correct? I do apologize about the wait; they’re taking longer than expected. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can help you with?”

Customer: “I already told you that I want to speak with a man. How much longer?”

Me: “Shouldn’t be too much longer; I’ll transfer you as soon as the next advisor becomes available.”

(I put the customer on hold for another eight minutes before I pick up the phone again.)

Me: “I am so sorry, sir. I still don’t have a service man available. Would you like me to take a message and have someone call you back?”

Customer: “This is bulls***! All I want to do is make an appointment for an oil change!”

Me: “Oh, my, you should have said something sooner, sir. Our service department doesn’t make appointments for oil changes.”

Customer: “What?!”

Me: “I’m sorry if the line is breaking up, sir. I said, ‘We don’t make appointments for oil changes.’ They’re walk-in only.”

Customer: “I WAITED OVER HALF AN HOUR TO MAKE AN APPOINTMENT, AND YOU’RE TELLING ME I CAN’T MAKE ONE?!”

Me: “That is correct.”

Customer: “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SOMETHING EARLIER?!”

Me: “If I recall correctly, sir, you specifically said you only wanted to speak with a man, and I did ask if there was anything I could help you with.”

Customer: “I’ll be at your dealership in fifteen minutes, AND I DON’T WANT TO F****** WAIT!”

(The customer hung up, and I went up front and told the service advisors what happened. They put a note in the computer, and they made the customer wait three hours for an oil change. Sexism doesn’t fly in our department.)

 

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