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Learn To Bottle It To Get Those Tips

, , , , , | Working | September 10, 2019

(I’m at a baseball game with some friends, and on this occasion, I’m the designated driver. Before the first inning starts, I go to a concession stand to get a hot dog and a bottle of soda. Despite a man and his two kids making requests of the other vendor, the hot dog comes with no trouble. The soda, however…)

Me: “Excuse me, I asked for a bottle, not a fountain drink.”

Vendor #1: “The bottles aren’t cold.”

Me: “That’s fine. I’ll still take it.”

Vendor #1: “They’re not cold!”

Me: “And that’s fine. It’s liquid, it tastes better than the swill from the fountain, it’ll help break down any fat in this hot dog, and it’s non-alcoholic so I can drive myself and my friends home. Now, may I have a bottle of [Soda]?”

Vendor #1: “THEY’RE! NOT! COLD!”

Vendor #2: “[Vendor #1], that doesn’t bother him.” *hands me a bottle* “Sorry about that.”

Vendor #1: “That’ll be [total].”

(I pay, get my change, fish a dollar out of it, and go to tip like I always do.)

Me: “Oh, wait. You wouldn’t get my order. That was her. And she was busy with her own customers.”

(As soon as I finish, I put the single away, pull out a twenty, and hand it to [Vendor #2], instead.)

Vendor #2: “Thank you, sir! And God bless you!”

(I told my friends what happened before the game started. I went back to the stand three more times, but I still got [Vendor #2] two of those times, so she walked away with $40 in tips just from me while [Vendor #1] never saw a dime. My friends, however, decided to get all of their beer from that stand. While I don’t know what they tipped, I do know they followed my pattern. Based on how many times they went to get drinks, I can only imagine what she raked in from us. I also hope [Vendor #1] learned his lesson.)

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Ferreting Around For Information

, , , , | Right | June 20, 2019

(I work in a pet store.)

Caller: “Hi. I wanted to know if you had any ferrets in stock.”

Me: “No, sorry. We don’t have a large enough enclosure for those in our store so we actually don’t sell them at all. I can tell you the phone numbers for some of our larger stores.”

(We discuss this and she decides that they are all too far away.)

Caller: “Do you know any other pet stores in the area that sells them?”

Me: “I know that [Other Store] carries them but I wouldn’t know their stock. I can provide you their number if you want.”

(It’s actually against policy to give out a competitor’s info but most staff do when it comes to things we don’t ever stock.)

Caller: “Yeah, that’s too far. What about mom-and-pop stores? Do you know any of them in the area that have them?”

Me: “I don’t know of any and if I did I wouldn’t know their stocks.”

Caller: “This is ridiculous! You won’t even help me. You mean to tell me you don’t know any other pet stores?!”

Me: “Well, this one I work at has everything I need, so no. Sorry.”

Caller: *sighs heavily* “Put me on with someone who knows more than you.”

Me: “I can’t do that; I’m the only one here. Besides, we are not required to give any business to the competition. You can try Google.”

Caller: “How about a manager? They must know more than you.”

(All of my managers are new, live out of state, and have no knowledge of the local area.)

Me: “As I’ve already said, I can give you the number for the other stores or you can try Google. There is no manager available for this issue.”

Caller: “This is ridiculous. Can you just put me on with a manager?! They must know something outside of your little world there in that store!”

Me: “No manager here can help with—“

(The caller hung up on me. I relayed the story to my manager later and she told me that she fears for the general public.)

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Bullet: Dodged

, , , , , , , , | Romantic | June 20, 2019

(In college, I go on a blind date with a friend of a friend. I have a bad feeling about it, but I brush it off and tell myself it’s just nerves. The night of the date, he is supposed to arrive at 6:00 pm. By 6:10, I start to wonder if I’ve been stood up. At 6:30, I call him.)

Date: “Hello?”

Me: “Um, hi, this is [My Name].”

Date: “Oh, hey! Look, yeah, I’m on my way. My mom was late getting home so I had to wait for her car.”

Me: “Oh, okay. I’ll meet you out front?”

Date: “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”

(Another fifteen minutes go by and a minivan pulls up in front of my house. My date flips on the overhead light and beckons me to hop in.)

Date: “All right! Hi! Nice to meet you. Wow, you are gorgeous!”

Me: “Oh. Um, well, thank you. You… you look nice, too.”

Date: “So, I was thinking about [Fancy Sushi Restaurant].”

Me: “I love sushi! I’ve never been to [Fancy Sushi Restaurant], though.”

Date: “You’ll love it.”

(We arrive and are seated immediately. The waiter comes by and my date orders a bottle of wine — “the best you’ve got” — and we each order two rolls of sushi, 12 pieces each.)

Me: “So, you’re an art major.”

Date: “I dropped out. I don’t think I need a state-sanctioned education to understand art. You know?”

Me: “Art is subjective, anyway. Something that makes you laugh might scare the pants off someone else.”

Date: *dead stare* “No. Not like that at all.”

Me: “Oh.”

Date: “It’s fine; you don’t have to understand.”

(I get the feeling he’s patronizing me, and as the night goes on, the feeling gets stronger. I try to remain polite, but then this happens.)

Date: “I mean, seriously, a female manager is a joke. A man is going to talk to the customers because they’ll see him as an authority figure.”

Me: “I’ve seen plenty of authoritative female managers.”

Date: *laughs* “They’re not called ‘wo-managers’!”

Me: “Okay. Um, I think it’s time to go home.”

Date: “Aren’t you enjoying your night?”

Me: “I’d like to go home.”

Date: *sigh* “Fine.” *waves for the check*

(The check comes and he picks it up to examine the charges. Then, he puts it down and begins patting down his coat pockets.)

Date: “Oh, man. You’re not going to believe this.”

Me: “What?”

Date: “I don’t have my wallet. I think I left it at home.”

Me: “Are you serious?”

Date: “Yeah! Oh. Sorry.” *slides the check to me*

(I look at it and see that our four rolls of sushi and a bottle of wine are nearly $100! I try not to react but I’m in shock. I put down my card and we wait for the receipt.)

Me: “Wow. This place is fancy, huh?”

Date: “Yeah. The best of everything!”

Me: *tight smile* “Mmhmm.”

(We ride home in awkward silence. On the way, he pulls into a gas station, parks in a spot, and hops out. Confused, I sit there waiting. A few minutes later, he comes back out and pulls a new pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.)

Me: “Um… So… You found your wallet?”

Date: *lighting up* “Huh? Oh! Yeah, I guess so.”

Me: “So, where was it?”

Date: “In my coat pocket! Crazy, huh?”

Me: “Yeah. Crazy.”

(When we got back to my house, he leaned in for a kiss but I declined and jumped out. The next day, he sent me a text saying he didn’t think it would work out between us because I was just too uptight and he didn’t think I could carry on a stimulating conversation with him. What a loss.)

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Can’t Explain Why Her Head’s Full Of Hot Air

, , , , , | Friendly | June 19, 2019

(I have just moved into a three-bedroom house with two other people. I am sitting on the couch in the living room when I notice [Roommate], whom I met in college, just going up and down the stairs. She can be a little eclectic at times, so I don’t pay it any mind. Our other roommate is my sister.)

Sister: “Hey, [Roommate], are you okay?”

Roommate: *obviously confused* “I think we need to call the landlord now.”

Sister: “What’s wrong?”

Roommate: “The AC doesn’t work; it’s hotter upstairs than down here.”

Me: “The air isn’t on.”

Sister: “Yeah, and all the windows upstairs are closed, and you know, heat rises.” *shrugs*

(I don’t remember the specific field, but [Roommate] has a degree in a science field.)

Roommate: “No, it doesn’t. What did your parents teach you? That’s so dumb that you believe that.”

(My sister tried to reason with her, I went back to my book, and she walked away confused by how “dumb” we are.)

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General Ignorance Is Multiplying

, , , , , , , | Working | May 27, 2019

(I am checking out at a local grocery store. If you shop using reusable bags at this particular store, you get $0.03 off for each bag you use. The cashier has just finished ringing me up.)

Cashier: “Okay, how many reusable bags did you use today, sir?”

Me: “Nine.”

(She turns to her register and pauses for a moment, as if she is confused.)

Me: “The discount should be $0.27.”

(She looks at her register again, and then calls over a passing coworker.)

Cashier: “Hey, [Coworker], what’s nine times $0.03?”

Coworker: “$0.27.”

Cashier: “You sure?”

Me: “I’m pretty sure he’s right. The discount should be $0.27, like we both told you.”

(She gave me a skeptical look but proceeded to apply the discount regardless. It boggles my mind to think about how people are able to get jobs that involve a lot of mathematics when they cannot even demonstrate elementary-level multiplication.)

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