Dozed And Disrobed

| NY, USA | Right | December 12, 2014

(I work at a popular women’s clothing and lingerie chain. It’s around five pm on Christmas Eve, shortly before we close. A middle aged man hurries in and has me direct him to our very diminished bathrobe section.)

Customer: “…you only have four bathrobes? I need a medium for my wife and these are all extra small!”

Me: *trying to joke a little* “Yeah, looks like the elves cleaned out all of the robes, I’m sorry about that. Do you think she would like pajamas instead? We have quite a few flannel sets left in medium—”

Customer: “No, she said she wanted a robe! Don’t you have any more in the back?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’ve checked the back a few times for other customers today, so I know for sure that these are the only few we have left in the store.”

Customer: *raising his voice and throwing his hands in the air now* “I don’t believe this! It’s f****** ridiculous that this is all you have!”

(He storms away from me and out of the store before I can reply. My manager, who had been behind the cash register during this, came over to me, shaking her head.)

Manager: “What’s even more ridiculous is that he waited until CHRISTMAS EVE to go shopping and expected to find the stuff he was looking for…”

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Texan Bull In A China Shop

| ON, Canada | Right | December 11, 2014

(I am Canadian; I was born in Canada and have lived here all my life. I don’t look Chinese at all, though my hair is brown. This day a racist customer decided I was Chinese.)

Customer: “Hey c****! Hurry up; we didn’t let you in this country to laze about!”

Me: *calmly* “Nice accent. Where are you from?”

Customer: “Texas. Now, d*** well hurry up! I have places to be!”

Me: “Well, first off, you’re Texan so you didn’t let me into the country. Second, my mother may have come to Canada 30 years ago, but it was from England where she was born and her great-grandparents were born! Third, my father’s family emigrated to Canada from England in 1926! So, no, I am not Chinese! Now get out of MY country!”

Customer: “Call your manager! Right now! I’m getting you fired!”

Manager: *who heard the whole thing, in his best accent* “You need to tell this c**** something, sir?”

(The customer ran away from my manager: a very annoyed, very big, Chinese man.)

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Not So Closed Minded, Part 5

| New Zealand | Right | December 11, 2014

(I work in a Christmas shop that opens for three months every year. Due to this, we often get shop space on the outside of a large mall or away from the main facilities. There’s no bathroom, so when we have to, we lock the store, leave a ‘back soon!’ note, and run. As I am returning from a bathroom break that took less than five minutes I see a woman pulling on the locked doors. Knowing I wasn’t going to be long, I only dropped one of the two deadbolts, and locked it with a key. It would not open when I tested it. As I walk towards her the woman kicks & wrenches the door open, even getting her son involved to pull. They manage to open the door!)

Me: “Ma’am, the door was actually shut and locked!”

Customer: “What? ”

Me: “We were shut temporarily, and the door was locked!”

(I check the door, and she has managed to pull the bolt out from the socket, and has forced the other door in!)

Customer: “Oh. You should have put a sign up! I didn’t know you were closed!”

Me: “Ma’am, there is a sign—” *points to the A4 sign on bright red paper* “—and you had to notice you struggled with the door?”

Customer: “That’s why I kicked it!”

Me: *boggle*

(Thankfully she hadn’t kicked through the GLASS doors, but I spent half an hour running around after her four-year-old son who decided snow globes should bounce. They didn’t buy anything.)

 

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Don’t Take Out Thanksgiving Without Getting Takeout

| NJ, USA | Working | December 11, 2014

(I’m currently doing inventory at my second job and end up in an aisle where our sales manager and our general manager are chatting about Thanksgiving and what they’ll do with the free time since nobody comes in. This is only the second year that our store is open on Thanksgiving and we get maybe three customers in the store.)

Me: “Oh, I’ll be working. Who is closing on Thanksgiving?”

Sales Manager: “[General Manager] and [Other Sales Manager] is. [General Manager]’s going to order you guys Chinese food.”

General Manager: *rolling his eyes but grinning nonetheless* “We’re not ordering Chinese food.”

(They go back to chatting about Thanksgiving, commenting how it sucks that we have to be open when nobody even comes into the store. I’ve been half paying attention and adding to the conversation when prompted as they know I also work in a grocery store.)

Me: “Yeah, I’m working my other job, too. It’ll be nice to have some calm here after the chaos, at least. I’ve got bets on how many people are going to yell at us for running out of shallots again this year.”

General Manager: *looking at me confused* “But… you said you could work on Thanksgiving.”

Me: *blinking* “I can. I’m only at my other job 7 am until 3 pm. I’m scheduled here at 5:30 pm.”

General Manager: “Oh, okay!” *looks confused again* “But… when are you getting to eat Thanksgiving dinner?”

Me: “Um… I’m not.”

Sales Manager: *turns and looks pointedly at General Manager* “Order Chinese food.”

General Manager: *nods*

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A Plate Of Justice With Extra Dressing

| UT, USA | Right | December 10, 2014

(I am a cashier at a shop that specializes in fine clothing, like for proms and weddings. As such we have MANY white dresses made from materials that are easily soiled.)

Me: “Welcome to [Bridal Store]. How may I help you?”

Mother: “I just wanted to see what kind of dresses you have. I’m getting married soon.”

Me: “Congratulations! My supervisor is just over there, and she can help you out with anything you need.”

(At this point, I notice that a small boy followed her in, and he is carrying one of those family-sized bags of cheesy snacks. I can immediately predict this turning sour.)

Me: “Ma’am, if you’d like, we have a room in the back that your son can play in. We have a selection of toys and movies that he may like.”

Mother: “It’ll be fine. [Son] is a dearie, and he won’t mess anything up.”

(I just shrug it off, but try to keep an eye on the little boy. My attention is diverted by a lady purchasing a bow tie for her husband. By the time I am done with her, the little boy is nowhere to be seen, and I assume that he has gotten bored and gone into the room to play. After a while, the lady comes back up with a layaway check and a girdle.)

Me: “Thank you for making us your choice for your wedding dress. Your total is [total].”

Mother: “You haven’t seen my son, have you?”

Me: “He’s probably in the room in the back. You’re welcome to go back there if you’d like.”

Mother: “I’ll get him after I’m done here.”

(She proceeds to finish her order, gets her son, and leaves. I still feel uneasy about the little boy with the big bag of food.)

Me: “[Owner], I’m going to check inventory. I kinda feel off about that little boy.

(I get up and start searching the dresses, and find at least a half dozen dresses of varying styles and colors, a bunch of tablecloths, and even the dressing room mirrors with nice, smeary orange hand prints. I gather the dresses and cloths up and show them to my boss.)

Owner: *takes one look* “Put them with her dress in layaway. She just chose her bridesmaid dresses.”

(She later came back and tried to contest the extra dresses, claiming that they’re “not the ones she wanted,” and even threatened to report us to our local Better Business Bureau for “framing her innocent child.” Regardless, none of it worked. As a final attempt to make us feel bad, she gave us a picture of her bridesmaids and her wearing all those soiled dresses. We framed it.)

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