When Comic Book Stores Need Wakanda Shielding

, , , , | Right | September 24, 2019

(I am working in my closed comic book store, unpacking after a big convention.)


(I see a customer pounding at the locked door of the store.)

Phone: “Ring Ring Ring!”

(I ignore the phone while I unpack, but the banging and shouting continue. I go to the door and unlock it.)

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “Are you open?”

Me: “No. We’re closed today. Sorry.”

Customer: “That’s okay; I can still buy stuff, right?”

Me: “No, we’re closed.”

Customer: “But you’re here, and the door is unlocked, so you must be open.”

Me: “I unlocked it so you wouldn’t break my windows. We’re closed.”

Customer: “Oh… Can I come in?”

Me: “No, we’re closed. Sorry.”

Customer: “Yeah, but you’re here, and I just want—”

Me: “I’m here unpacking a convention, the store is not safe for customers to come in, and we are closed. We are open tomorrow from ten to nine. Thanks.” *closes and locks the door*

Customer: *as he walks away* “What an a**hole!”

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Unfiltered Story #162038

, , , | Unfiltered | September 5, 2019

(I am a housekeeper in an upscale hotel. When a guest has a special request my supervisor will come on the floor and tell me in person. Sometimes the guests requests get a little extreme.)

Supervisor: Hey (My Name), when you get to room 811 can you be sure to change all the sheets and exchange all the towels? (We normally only change the sheets every other day and exchange the used towels) The guest says they are allergic to the cleaner we use in the fabrics.

Me: Do you have special sheets and towels for me? Won’t the stuff I have give them the same reaction?

Supervisor: Yea, don’t worry about it. These guests are a little… (makes face).

(This is my first warning as my supervisor is normally very attentive to guest requests. I clean the room and do as she asks. Weirdly I find maybe a dozen dryer sheets in and around the bed when I’m making it. Later in the day my supervisor comes up again.)

Supervisor: Hey (My Name), did you vacuum room 811 when you cleaned it?

Me: No, the floor was spotless.

Supervisor: Sorry, but can you go back and vacuum it really well. They are complaining that the dust is bothering them. I’m so sorry, just do whatever they ask please. I know you did a good job cleaning it before.

(I immediately go to the room. The guest is in the room this time.)

Guest: (In great distress) Oh thank goodness! Please can you vacuum again. I’m just so itchy! (gesturing and scratching at her neck) I can just feeeel the mice in this room!

Me: (shocked) I can assure you that there is no mice here. I have never even heard of that being a problem here ever. I’m sorry you’re having a reaction to something though. Is there anything else I can do to make your stay more comfortable?

Guest: Oh yes! can you please put more sheets on the bed? I don’t want the bed mice to get me. It makes me feel so itchy!

Me: Bed mice?

Guest: Yes! I can just feel them in this room! (gesturing to her neck again)

Me: (Realizing that she is meaning bed bugs. Which we also don’t have and you cannot feel them while standing in the middle of a room)
(Despite me knowing that there is nothing wrong I had to spend half an hour putting extra bed sheets on her bed, vacuuming every corner of her room, helping stuff her bed with more dryer sheets, and assuring her that there is nothing wrong without actually calling her crazy. Afterwards my supervisor came up and when I told her what happened she just rolled her eyes and thanked me for my patience)

Never Get Between Me And My Pizza

, , , , , | Working | September 4, 2019

(I am eighteen. My family moved to Ottawa when I was ten, and our home only has one pizza place close enough to walk to. This means we have been ordering from this place two or three times a week for about eight years, and the whole time we have always ordered the exact same thing. It is a small, family-run business. It has gotten to the point where they start to recognise our voices on the phone and we both stay up to date on each other’s families. I always go pick the food up. Often it was the same two people working at the cash register, but this time, it is someone new. I recognise him from the walk-in kitchen, but have never talked to him.)

Me: “Hey, I’m here to pick up our regular.”

Cashier: “What was your order?”

Me: “One extra-large, three-topping walk-in special with bacon, sausage, and pepperoni. Two Pepsi, and a small poutine.”

Cashier: “What is your address?”

(I’m confused. I have never been asked my address before, and I do not know it because I have never been asked before.)

Me: “Um, I don’t know my address.”

Cashier: “Well, you will need to get an adult to confirm your order.”

Me: “I am a regular here; I always get the same order. But I don’t know my address, nor do I have a phone. Can I just get my order?”

Cashier: “We can just call home. What’s your phone number?”

Me: “I don’t know my phone number. Please, can you just give me my order?”

(We are both becoming frustrated as neither of us will budge.)

Cashier: “You need an adult to confirm your order, or I can’t give you your order. Go home and confirm your order.”

Me: “Sir, I just want my pizza.”

Cashier: “Leave.”

(He points towards the door, and by this point, he is yelling at me. I am shocked; I have never had a bad experience here before.)

Me: “Excuse me?”

Cashier: “I said leave. Get out of here! Your business is not welcome here.”

Me: “Do you know who I am?”

Cashier: “I don’t care who you are. Get out of here right now!”

(Now I am also angry, but I know he has no right to kick me out. Due to me having authority problems, I refuse to leave.)

Me: “I would like to talk to your manager.”

Cashier: *about to speak, but I cut him off*

Me: “I would like to speak to your manager and/or the owner of this place.”

(The cashier heads to the back, and brings the owner. I instantly recognise him, and he recognises me. Due to it being a family-run business, he has been the cashier before for me.)

Boss: “Is there a problem? What’s going on here?”

Me: “Your employee here is trying to kick me out of here because of a misunderstanding. He would rather deny the business of a regular than do his job and give me my pizza.”

(The boss took the cashier to the back, and a few minutes later, he returned and served as my cashier. After the boss got me my pizza, I went home, not tipping, despite the fact I very often do. Next week, when I was back again, I saw one of my normal cashiers. I asked him what had happened to the other guy, and he said that he was on leave. I didn’t see that cashier again until about six months later, and he was back to working in the kitchen. I have never seen that man working as the cashier despite it being about a year since the incident. That was the only time I ever had to use the “I wish to speak to your manager” line.)

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Unfiltered Story #161870

, , , | Unfiltered | August 31, 2019

I’m waiting at a coffeehouse one afternoon during my break for the barrista to make my drink. She finishes up a previous on order and calls out a latte of some sort (I wasn’t paying full attention knowing it wasn’t mine). A gentleman comes to the counter to grab it – after he had already grabbed the wrong one earlier and the Barrista had to remake it for the correct customer.

Barrista: (something something) latte
Customer: *goes to grab it*
Barrista: Did you order a (whatever kind it was) latte, sir?
Customer: No,
Barrista; Then don’t take that then, it’s not yours
Customer; Oh *goes to sit down*
Me: Do people seriously take the wrong drinks alot?
Barrista: All the time!!

Off The Clock And Off The Record

, , , , , | Right | July 29, 2019

(I work as a cashier supervisor in a large store. I have just finished the day shift, and one of the evening cashiers calls me over as I am about to leave the store.)

Cashier: “Can you enter your password to authorize this markdown? I know you’re not supposed to when you’re off the clock, but [Evening Supervisor] is busy.”

Me: “Sure, it’s not a big markdown, so I’ll do it this time.”

Customer: *to me* “Jesus, hurry the h*** up, would you?”

Me: “You know, we don’t get paid enough to put up with your bulls*** when we’re on the clock, so I’d suggest you speak a little more nicely to me when I’m not.”

(The customer quieted down very quickly and has been very silent around me ever since.)

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