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An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 8

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: Crimson_Songbird | December 12, 2020

I work at a sandwich shop. It’s usually quiet in the mornings, but this morning, I have a few, shall we say… interesting customers.

The first few customers come in. We have a policy that no more than two people are allowed in the store at one time, but we make exceptions for people from the same household, families, etc. These customers are nice but clearly unaware of how the shop works.

Group: “Can we please have extra meat and bacon in our wraps?”

And then they are baffled by the price.

Group: “Do you serve pizza?”

We very obviously do not.

Group: “Can we eat in the store?”

This is during England’s Lockdown, Part Two (Electric Boogaloo).

It’s somewhat annoying, but excusable, and otherwise not really something to write home about.

But then… Oh, boy, but then.

Two guys come in, neither of them wearing masks. [Guy #1] says they’re exempt, with no proof of that statement, but I let him off. It’s the law to wear masks in shops and takeaways in my country, exemptions aside; however, store policy is that we are not allowed to enforce that law because we’re often alone in the store and there’s the risk of people getting aggressive. It’s very annoying, but oh, well. [Guy #2] is apologetic and puts his sweater in front of his face, at least making an effort.

They order weird sandwiches, but I figure hey, you like what you like.

They go toward the till to pay. There is a plastic screen in front of the till creating a barrier between me and the customers. [Guy #2] goes to pay. [Guy #1] comes round the barrier to open his sandwich on the surface, now less than two metres from me. First of all, the store is takeaway only, and people cannot under any circumstances eat in store. Second, obviously, he is not socially distancing himself from me.

Me: *Politely* Please step behind the screen, sir.”

Guy #1: “You really believe in that?”

I think to myself, “OH, BOY, this is about to go way downhill.”

Me: “Yes, I know someone who died from it.”

Guy #1: “Oh, yeah? Were they tested?”

Me: “They tested positive and died in the hospital.”

I realise that this isn’t really his business, but I am getting angry.

The guy spouts some more bulls*** that I can’t remember, and I tell him that I believe in the many, many deaths from it.

He gives the classic line:

Guy #1: “People die from things every day.”

Me: “At least the flu has a vaccine.”

He kind of repeats his crap, but to be honest, it’s a bit of a blur because I am shaking with anger, and I tend to block out confrontation.

After his friend pays, I turn to him as he’s still talking.

Me: “Buy a mask. Goodbye.”

And I turned and walked to the back room. He continued to rant as he left.

I then made a “Back open in ten minutes” sign, locked the door, and went out back to have a cigarette and a cry. I don’t remember the last time I was this furious.

Related:
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 7
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 6
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 5
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 4
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 3

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You Can’t Fire Me… Seriously.

, , , | Working | CREDIT: Anonymous by request | December 11, 2020

I work in a large warehouse membership store. Management isn’t really that bad; summer and holiday seasons are hectic, but aside from that, there aren’t any issues… until 2017.

In 2017, I am moving further away than I expected, so I give in my two weeks’ notice, and two people sign the papers.

About two weeks after I move, to a place an hour away from my original location, I get a call.

Manager: “Where are you? Why didn’t you show up to work?!”

Me: “Um… I moved. I gave my two weeks’ notice beforehand, and it was signed off.”

They thought I was lying… and then proceeded to fire me.

I don’t even work there anymore.

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Entitled Jerk Gets Dragged!

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: TynanAmore | December 11, 2020

I work in a hotel that is part of a larger chain.

With the current situation going on in the world, my hotel is very limited on what we can offer for breakfast. Our local health department will not allow us to do our famous hot breakfast until the number of new cases in my area decreases; this means that we can only offer grab-and-go items that can be eaten cold or heated in a microwave. We are also not allowed to open our dining room as there’s not enough space for social distancing. We’re supposed to discourage people from “hanging out.”

We have signs all over our dining area that state due to the current health crisis, we are not allowed to open the dining tables.

For breakfast, we offer a box of items that can be grabbed and taken to the guests’ rooms or eaten cold in the car. In the box is a bagel, two hardboiled eggs, a breakfast bar, cream cheese, and yogurt, as well as eating utensils.

This particular customer has already been a bit of a troublemaker. We are a three-star hotel and will go out of our way to help a guest, but this customer is never satisfied, no matter how far out of your way you go. When she first checked in, she cussed out my front desk staff because we don’t offer valet parking.

The customer and her husband each take a breakfast box, and upon pulling out the bagel, the customer comes to my desk.

Customer: “You need to get me a toaster for this bagel.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we do not have any toasters available.”

Customer: “Then how am I supposed to eat my bagel?”

Me: “Ma’am, there are microwaves available in the guest rooms, or if you are heading out, I will be more than happy to heat it in the little microwave in my office.”

[Customer] doesn’t like either of those options and huffs back to the breakfast area where her husband is waiting. I figure they are leaving and that’s why he is waiting. I walk over a little bit later to clean and check to make sure there are enough boxes for all the guests when I see [Customer] and her husband sitting in the dining area. One could assume that they didn’t see the signs; however, they sat at one of the tables that had the sign on it.

Me: *Calmly* “I do apologize, but per CDC and local health department regulations, we are not allowed to have anyone in the dining area.”

Customer: “There is no sign anywhere.”

I point to the large-print sign on the table.

Me: “Ma’am, we have them posted on the entrance door, as well as on the tables right here.”

Customer: “Well, I’m not moving until I finish eating.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you will have to. If the health department sees you here, we can be shut down as a public health nuisance.”

Husband: “Let’s just take our things back to the room.”

Customer: “No, this little a**hole is lying. There are no rules that say we can’t eat here; he just doesn’t want anyone here.”

I step off and go to the back. I come back with a printout of the CDC and local health department regulations

Me: “Ma’am, these are the rules as outlined by the CDC and the health department. As you can see, it says right here—” *pointing to the page* “—that eating areas must be able to accommodate social distancing to open. As this is a small dining area that cannot accommodate social distancing, we are unable to open it.”

The customer goes ballistic, yelling and cussing.

I finally get tired of listening to it.

Me: “Ma’am, if you are going to continue to yell and use foul language, I’m afraid I will have to ask you to leave the property, without a refund.”

This is when the customer says the Magic Words.

Customer: “GET ME YOUR MANAGER!”

I get a little glee when I hear entitled and rude customers say this, as I am the assistant general manager here, and generally, at breakfast time I’m the only employee here.

I point to my name badge.

Me: “Ma’am, I am the manager, and I’m going to have to ask you the leave the hotel. Don’t worry about a receipt; it will be emailed to the email on your reservation.”

Husband: “I can’t believe we are getting kicked out of another place because of your attitude.”

The customer’s husband had to drag her out of the hotel.

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These Workers Have Some Big Balls

, , , , | Working | CREDIT: Supdawh497 | December 11, 2020

I work at a large international superstore when I’m in high school.

I am generally liked by my immediate managers and the customer service managers, so much so that they usually pick me to walk around the store with them in the evening and collect money from the registers. They enjoy my company and it gets me off the register. Win-win.

One day, we start our walk and the manager stops me.

Manager: “Listen for a second.”

We hear a faint explosion from the back of the store.

The manager starts laughing and then explains what’s happening.

Manager: “The guys in the back are filling twelve-inch inflatable balls. But apparently, they’re filling them to the size of the fourteen-inch inflatable balls. And eventually, they rupture from the pressure.”

This resulted in a very loud BOOM every few minutes as the balls rupture from the pressure. This went on for several hours, as they had filled a lot of balls before they started popping.

It was the talk of the store for a couple of days.

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If You’re Looking For Sympathy, You’ll Get Crickets

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: 03throwaway03 | December 11, 2020

As I teen, I work in a chain retail pet store. It isn’t a bad gig, but this particular Saturday is h***.

It is summer. We are all near a bunch of front windows during the time of day sun is shining right on them, so everyone is hot.

To make it worse, for some reason, our credit card machines all decide to malfunction. The thing is, they are not offline, but for some reason, it is taking three to four minutes for each transaction to go through. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but in an eight-person line, that gets real old, real fast.

We have four registers, all with that issue. I suggest — yay, management, for actually listening! — that we have a cash-only line. We have no signage, as this isn’t normal, so I tape big hand-written signs all around my register, and we even tape one to the front door telling people about our issues.

So, yeah, it’s a mess — lots of complaints, general grumbling, etc.

I don’t have it too bad until this woman comes up to my register.

She places her one item on the counter. It’s a bag of crickets for food. The bag has “18” written on it, indicating what the charge should be.

The first words out of her mouth:

Customer: “I hope I got eighteen crickets, because that fat cow you have working in the reptile department didn’t look like she knew what she was doing.”

Full stop. I’ve known that employee for about a year. We’re not friends, but friendly, and she for sure takes her job seriously.

It has been a long day and I’ve seen so many of my coworkers taking abuse already that I kind of snap.

As this woman is the only one in line, I put on my best customer service smile.

Me: “Well, let’s make sure, then.”

I have a small bag I front of me. I lean down and start counting.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to count how many bugs there are in a small area when they are all jumping around?

This goes on for maybe… three minutes or so. Finally, the woman sighs.

Customer: “Okay, fine, I don’t care.”

Fortunately, I have actually just finished the count.

Me: “Well ma’am it seems you have nineteen crickets in here.”

She rolls her eyes. It’s only seven cents.

Customer: *Grumbling* “Fine.”

At least she isn’t petty enough to try to demand a free cricket.

But then, she pulls out her credit card! I giggle internally.

My lane is the only one without a line. The woman beelined to it without reading the six signs I had plastered all over my lane about cash-only.

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, you’re going to have to go to another lane. This is cash-only due to our credit machine issues.”

Customer: *Sputters* “But…”

She keeps sputtering, looking at the other lines, mostly seven to ten people long. There is no one behind her on my line.

Customer: “I’m not holding anyone up!”

Me: “Not now, but if someone comes up, you would be.”

She grabs the bag angrily and wanders to one of the other lines.

I got busy again, so I didn’t see her check out, but I asked my coworker about it later. He said he remembered her, and she didn’t say anything, but she did pay for her extra cricket.

The thing is, I did make an exception or two throughout the day when my line was empty, and someone had a single item and legitimately apologized for not seeing the signs. People get tunnel vision in stores; I get it. But if she had just not said, “Fat cow,” she would have been out of the store forty minutes sooner and seven cents richer.

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