Taking Truth Down To The Wire

| WI, USA | Right | June 24, 2014

(When our store first started using spiderwire (an alarmed wire wrapped around packaging) we weren’t allowed to tell people what is was, for whatever reason. When asked, I would just say it is a security device. I am pressed on how it works by one belligerent customer:)

Me: “This is a sophisticated anti-theft system we’ve just invested in. If one leaves the store it will automatically engage the alarm and trigger the GPS tracking. We then relay the information to the police. It’s so we can not only stop theft, but bust thieves in their own homes.”

(The customer’s mouth was open with shock.)

Customer: “I didn’t realize [Store] was capable of that!”

(He then set his item wrapped in wire down slowly and literally ran out of the store.)

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Changing Rooms, Not Genders

| London, England, UK | Working | June 23, 2014

(I’m a 16-year-old girl. While I have short hair and rather small breasts I wouldn’t say I look particularly masculine, especially when I’m wearing skinny jeans and a tight top. This happens when I’m standing in line waiting to go into the changing room to try on some bras. I have four or five different styles clearly in my hands.)

Assistant: “Sir? The male changing rooms are almost empty. You can go in.”

Me: *assumes she’s talking to someone else, and ignores her*

Assistant: “Excuse me, sir? You can go in.”

Me: *still thinks she’s talking to someone else*

Assistant: *taps me on the shoulder sharply* “Hey, I’m talking to you! The male changing rooms are free.”

Me: “Okay, thanks, but I’m going into the female ones.”

Assistant: “You can’t go in there! That’s for women!”

Me: “I hope so, being a teenage girl looking for a new bra.” *holds up my items*

Assistant: *shocked face* “Oh, uh, I need to attend to someone…” *walks away quickly*

Customer Behind Me: “I wonder what she thought you were going to do with those?!”

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Not Quite Walkie Tall

| Austin, TX, USA | Working | June 23, 2014

(We use walkie-talkies to communicate at the store where I work. I’m known for my sarcastic comments, but one of my managers just doesn’t get it.)

Manager: *over the walkie* “Hey, [My Name], do you have a walkie?”

Me: *over walkie* “No.”

(A few seconds later, I hear the store’s PA system come on.)

Manager: *over PA* “[My Name], please come to customer service. [My Name] to customer service.”

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Not Quite The (Ice) Cream Of The Crop

| UK | Right | June 21, 2014

(I work in a very popular chocolate shop that also sells ice cream in the summer. It is a particularly busy, hot Saturday. I am serving ice cream. There was a huge line of customers. Suddenly, a customer strolls into the store, leaving her bicycle outside. Eventually, it is her turn.)

Customer: “Finally. I’ll have a hazelnut.”

Me: “Sure, a double or a single?”

Customer: “Double.”

Me: “Would you like it in a cone or a tub?”

Customer: “A bag.”

Me: “…Pardon?”

Customer: “A bag.”

(I look at her for a moment)

Me: “I’m sorry, Miss, but the ice cream only comes in a cone or a tub.”

Customer: “Well, I need it in a bag. Do you have a bag?”

(We put chocolate in small transparent bags, but they would definitely not fit an ice cream tub, also there are no lids on the tubs to cover the ice cream.)

Me: “It won’t fit in one of our bags, miss.”

Customer: “Yes, it will. Get one.”

(I protest again, but fetch her bag anyway. I present it to her and show her the size, to prove it won’t fit.)

Me: “See, Miss? It’s too small. The tub won’t fit in there.”

Customer: “Oh, honestly, how do you even have a job? Do you even have a brain?”

(I’m hurt by this comment, and am getting quite angry.)

Me: “Look, it won’t fit; I don’t know what you’d like me to do.”

Customer: “Let me do it, girl.”

(She proceeds to take the full-to-the-brim ice cream tub and squeeze it into the bag sideways, smearing her ice cream all down the sides. I stare at her in disbelief. Ice cream is dripping everywhere.)

Customer: “Was that so hard?”

Me: *still staring* “Would… you like a spoon?”

(She held out the open bag and I dropped in a small plastic spoon with the already nearly melted ice cream. She paid and left. I watched her outside the window as she put her bag of squished ice cream into the child-seat of her bicycle, STRAPPED UP THE SEAT BELT, and cycled away down the road. I stared in disbelief for the rest of the day.)

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Pent Up On Pentagrams

| Cincinnati, OH, USA | Right | June 20, 2014

(I’m stocking an aisle when a customer walks up.)

Me: “Hi, is there anyth—”

(She gets a look of horror on her face and quickly walks away. I attempt to call to her but she ignores me. A couple minutes she comes back with a manager in tow.)

Customer: “This is the girl! This is the devil worshiper you need to fire!”

(Both my manager and I exchange a confused look.)

Manager: “What exactly is your problem with her, ma’am?”

Customer: “She wears a symbol of Satan! She’s a minion of Lucifer!”

(This is when I remember the star symbol earring I am wearing.)

Me: “Ma’am, this earring is not a symbol of Satan. It’s just a star. You’d have to flip it a full 180 degrees to be the symbol you’re referring to.”

Customer: “No! It’s a sign of the devil! You’re a devil worshiper!”

(My manager and I tried to explain to her the difference between the well-known satanic pentagram and my simple star symbol but she won’t listen. The manager escorted her away from my section and I removed my earring for the rest of my shift.)

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