An Eye-Catching Lesson

| USA | Right | December 2, 2014

(I was born with congenital glaucoma, a condition that causes blindness if left untreated. As such, I went through several surgeries as a child and have mostly corrected vision with glasses, although one eye is still a little damaged. Because of these surgeries, my eyes are extremely unique-looking and sometimes startle people – some of them do make comments, but they’re mostly harmless and more curious than anything else. I’ve lived with this disease all my life, so I’m very open and frequently joke about it, but I still get very sensitive when people try to put me on the spot or harass me about it. On this particular day, a customer comes up and places a box of shoes on my register.)

Me: “Good morning, sir. How are you today?”

Customer: “Just fine. And yourself?”

Me: “Doing great.”

(It’s company policy to check shoe sizes and styles to make sure the customer leaves with a matching pair. Because of my condition, I’m extremely near-sighted without my glasses, which is perfect for reading the small tags on shoes.)

Me: *takes off glasses and begins checking shoes*

Customer: *laughs* “You either eat more carrots or put your glasses back on.”

(Normally, I’m fine with joking about my eyesight, but I get very sensitive when people make fun of it.)

Me: *continues checking shoes* “Sir, glaucoma chose me, not the other way around.”

Customer: “Oh…”

(I looked up in time to see the blood drain from the man’s face and his expression turn sheepish. He apologized profusely, which I accepted, and left quietly. I smiled on the inside, knowing that I’ve taught someone a small lesson about judging someone with glasses.)

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Expecting A High Level Of Service

| Toronto, ON, Canada | Right | December 2, 2014

(I work at a large department store. I am working the closing shift in the men’s clothing department one night. Two young adults come over to look at the underwear, and they reek of marijuana. As I get closer to them, they stop me to ask me a question.)

Customer #1: “Do you work here?”

Me: *pleasantly* “Yes, I do. How can I—”

Customer #1: “Woah. You act like you don’t even wanna deal with us.”

Customer #2: “Yeah. S***…”

Me: “I’m sorry… What can I help you w—”

Customer #2: “Nah, nah, never mind.”

Customer #1: “Yeah, you already treats bad, as a… customer.”

Customer #2: “I won’t come back.”

(They leave, and I am left to ponder what I could have possibly done. Later, I told my supervisor.)

Supervisor: *laughing* “What? What was their problem?”

Me: “High as kites.”

Supervisor: “Ah. Of course. Say no more.”

Next Door Chore

| Edmonton, AB, Canada | Right | December 1, 2014

Customer: “Hi, I bought these tweezers but the light doesn’t work. I want a refund.”

Me: “Sure, do you have your receipt?

Customer: *hands me a [Grocery Store] receipt*

Me: “Oh, looks like you bought this at [Grocery Store].”

Customer: “So?”

Me: “This isn’t [Grocery Store]. That’s next door.”

Customer: *angry* “Well, NOW what do I do?!”

Me: “… Go next door and get a refund?”

Customer: “Well! This is highly inconvenient!”

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Doesn’t Know How To Window Shop

| England, UK | Right | November 30, 2014

(I work in a bargains store where people can get almost anything for less than the RRP. An elderly customer approaches me.)

Customer: “Will these curtains fit my window?”

Me: “What size is the window you’re buying for?”

Customer: “Living room.”

Me: “No, sorry I mean like what are the measurements for it?”

Customer: “It’s a normal front living room window.”

Me: “Every window is different. These ones you’ve picked out are 90″x90″, so they would fit a fairly large window. Do you know the size in inches, or even centimetres? We can work from there.”

Customer: “No, but it’s the same size window as everyone else on my street, so I think it’ll be the same for everywhere. Would they fit your window?”

Is His Name Kenny?

, | VA, USA | Related | November 30, 2014

(I am fussing at my three-year-old son who tried to rush toward traffic. He is deep in the WHY stage.)

Me: “Honey, you have to hold my hand. The cars will squish you!”

Son: “Why, Momma?”

(I think fast, wanting him to understand the danger but not be afraid to go out the door.)

Me: “Because you are small and the cars can’t see you.”

Son: “And you would cry?”

Me: *a little taken back by that* “Well, yes, honey. I would cry. I love you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Son: “Then you just get a new [Son].”

(He gave me a big grin like that solved everything.)

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