You Can Park Your Little Mansplanation Right There

, , , , | Right | December 3, 2019

(I work in the accounting office in an apartment building. I also handle parking. I’ve recently assigned a spot to a tenant. Note that I’m fairly new to this location and I’m female.)

Tenant: “I don’t like this spot. It’s too far from my building.”

Me: “I understand, but this is the closest spot available until someone moves out.”

Tenant: “But I want to be closer. I know exactly what spot I want. It’s [number].”

Me: “That spot is currently being rented by someone else.”

Tenant: “But I want it. It’s always empty when I look.”

Me: “They can rent it and not park there. It’s their money and their right. Or maybe they’re at work.”

Tenant: “Let me explain it to you another way.” *grabs a pen and paper off my desk* “Since you’re new, this may help.” *draws a rough map of the site layout and points to the spot he wants and where he is* “We’re in this building. I live here. I’m parked here. I want this spot.” *sits back with a smile as if he’s explained the universe to me*

Me: “Did you just mansplain my job to me?”

Tenant: “I… Well… A map…”

Me: “…does not change that [number] is currently being rented. Do you want to call them and tell them that you want [number]? I can arrange that meeting if you want.”

Tenant: “No, I just want it.”

Me: “No. You’ve mansplained it to me, as if I’d say yes now, and don’t understand that it’s unavailable.”

Tenant: “Will you call me when it’s available?”

(Apparently, my real feelings showed on my face, because he left quickly after that.)

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Canada Is Kinda Big

, , , , , | Working | November 21, 2019

(The company’s head office is out of California somewhere, and that is where the call is originating from. I’m in Canada.)

Caller: “Hi. This is [Caller] with [Company]. We noticed your membership with us has been inactive for quite some time. Is there anything I can do to get you to sign up with us again?”

Me: “I was very happy with your program, but the location I was frequenting has closed and now I’m with [Competitor]. Do you have another Ottawa location?”

Caller: “Yes! We have one at [address]!”

Me: “That’s the one that closed.”

Caller: “Oh, really? Well, how about the one in Brampton?”

Me: “That’s almost a five-hour drive from here.”

Caller: “Toronto?”

Me: “Four hours.”

Caller: “Oh… I’m going to butcher the name on this one. Miss… Miss…”

Me: “Mississauga? That’s further than Toronto.”

Caller: “Oh. I guess we don’t have anything near you.”

Me: “I didn’t think so. Thanks for calling, I guess? Let me know if you open an operation in Ottawa again.”

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Last Name Blame

, , , , | Right | November 14, 2019

(I work in a large bookstore. I’m shelving books under W in fiction. A man is sharing the aisle with me, pacing back and forth and looking more and more agitated. Finally, he realizes I’m not browsing and turns to me angrily.)

Customer: “This place is a mess!”

Me: *glancing around my spotless section* “Uh, if you’re looking for something specific, I’d be happy to help you. I know the books get shuffled out of order sometimes.”

Customer: “What the h*** kind of system do you even use to organize these things?!”

Me: *bewildered* “We sort the books alphabetically by author.”

Customer: “Well, you suck at it! Look at this: Sophie, Ian, Valerie, Ryan! WHAT KIND OF ORDER IS THAT?!”

Me: “Books are sorted by the author’s last name, sir.” *pointing at random shelf* “Wells, Wilkinson, Willins, Willis—”

(The customer looks at the shelf closely in silence for twenty seconds. His face slowly slumps into horrified shame.)

Customer: “I, uh… I don’t buy books much.”

(And then he fairly ran out of the store. I never saw him again.)

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I’m Not Serving Myself Up On A Tray For You

, , , | Right | November 14, 2019

(I’m seventeen, working my first job as a cashier at a fast food joint. We have a soda fountain located behind the counter, but customers are allowed free refills within reason. The cashiers are required to clean off the trays. A customer in his 30s and his friend have been in the restaurant for nearly an hour, ordered one soda, and have been getting constant refills, but no one else is here and it’s hot as balls, so I’m letting it slide. They are loud and rowdy, but again, no one else is here, so whatever. I am wiping down a stack of trays at the counter.)

Customer: *ambling over* “Hey, so, what do you do here all day?”

(I get the feeling I’m being hit on by this older man.)

Me: “I serve the customers and clean up, sir.”

(I smile and indicate the trays. He continues chatting and leaning into my space as I work, but I’m young and shy, so I say nothing and give noncommittal hums to his questions. I finally finish drying off my 40+ trays and smile politely.)

Me: “Sorry, I have other chores to get to. Just call if you need a refill and someone will be out to help you, okay?”

(In response, the guy pretends to stretch and carefully shoves my stack of trays, and all of them clatter to the dirty floor. He leans back over the counter and smiles smugly as I step back in shock. His friend howls in laughter.)

Customer: “Can I get a refill?”

Me: *discovering that I’m not THAT shy* “You don’t deserve one! Get out of my store!”

(They call me a b**** and leave. My supervisor — an angry, sixty-year-old feminist with butch tendencies — hears the noise, comes to investigate, and after hearing the story, pats me on the shoulder.)

Supervisor: “Next time an a**hole tries that s*** with you, just shout for me or something. See him try it on me.”

(I did indeed call on her once or twice, and surprisingly, the same men were much less likely to hang around the counter after she took over my position.)

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“Don’t Be Offended” Means You’re Going To Be Offended

, , , , | Right | November 1, 2019

(I’ve put through a customer, and we have a pleasant, regular chat, when suddenly, out of the blue, this happens. It should be noted that I am female, while the customer is an older man.)

Customer: “Can I tell you something, but you have to promise not to be offended?”

(Despite the WARNING BELLS this sets off, there’s nothing to do but smile and nod.)

Customer: “You shouldn’t be offended if someone calls you a b****, because it means ‘Babe In Total Control of Herself’!”

(The customer proceeds to grin like he’s just told me the funniest thing ever. I, predictably, am less than entertained.)

Me: “Have a great day, sir.” 

Customer: “It’s good, right?!”

Me: “Enjoy your day!”

(Still beaming, the man walked out. I get trying to make someone laugh, but if you have to preface it with “Don’t be offended!” then MAYBE YOU SHOULD RECONSIDER.)

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