Really Asking For It

| Sydney, NSW, Australia | Working | August 5, 2014

(At my work we have customer loyalty cards. We are supposed to ask for the card for each transaction and then offer to join customers up if they don’t have one. I have just taken money from a customer, when the manager pulls me up.)

Manager: “[My Name], you are supposed to ask for [Member] card.”

Me: *holding up the customer’s card* “She already gave it to me.”

Manager:  “Hmph, so you are safe this time but I didn’t hear you ask for the last two transactions either. I’d be in my rights to give you a warning about those. You didn’t ask for them to join up, either.”

Me: “Both of those customers also had their cards ready.”

Manager:  “Well, I DIDN’T hear you ask. You have to ask for every transaction.”

Me:  “So, I am still supposed to ask if they have a card, even when I already have the card in my hand?”

Manager:  “Well, I didn’t hear you ask.”

Me: “You check my last few transactions on the computer and I think you will find that each have the customer’s name against them.”

Manager: “Okay. I’ll let it go, but remember in the future to make sure you ask.”

A Town Of Cry-Babies

| FL, USA | Friendly | August 5, 2014

(I am a few days short of my due date, and it has been a hot, miserable summer living in a tiny, tiny town. I have been very sick the whole pregnancy, and aside from my stomach, I am quite thin and pale. On this particular day I have a rare few hours where I am feeling good enough to run to the store for some pears I have been craving. As I waddle around the produce section an older woman approaches me and puts her hands all over my belly without even asking.)

Me: “Umm, can I help you with something?”

Woman: *still rubbing my belly and pressing roughly on it* “Oh, you know, I just love babies! Little miracles from God! Darling angels sent to us from Heaven!”

Me: *annoyed* “Not this one!”

Woman: *shocked* “What? What are you talking about!?”

Me: *grinning like a mad person* “This one here is the devil’s baby! That’s right! Why do you think I look like this? He is literally sucking the life and soul from me!”

Woman: *horrified* “I… wha—”

Me: “My sweet little baby, the Antichrist! Can you believe how lucky I am?”

(I start to dig through my purse.)

Me: “Here! I have an ultrasound here somewhere. You can see his cloven hooves and tiny little horns sprouting!”

(At this point the woman shrieks and runs away in shouting about evil women and the end of the world. The other shoppers were too far away to have heard what I was saying and I look over at them innocently.)

Me: “I was just going to show her my ultrasound picture!”

(Within a few hours, the whole town had heard about it, and I received several phone calls from pastors in the area wanting to talk to me about my child. I explained that I wasn’t serious, that I was just tired of people getting into my personal space and grabbing on me, but they were still concerned. About three days later, on my due date exactly, I gave birth to a robust, pink, wiggly baby girl named Lucy (ironic, I guess) who is NOT the Bringer of the End Times. We have since moved to another town, equally as small, but far more accepting and full of good humor. My daughter is now starting middle school and loves to hear the story of how I frightened an entire town.)

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Dress Down The Conversation

| Savannah, GA, USA | Related | August 5, 2014

(My sister and I are very close, but we rarely talk with one another about ‘girly’ subjects. One day, we are walking through the store and see some wedding decorations on sale.)

Me: “I’ve never gotten women who want to wear tiaras on their wedding days. Do they really need to be told they’re a ‘princess’ that badly?”

Sister: “Yeah. On my wedding day, I just want a really nice dress and a simple church ceremony.”

Me: “I really want a wedding dress I can wear again on a nice occasion. And all of my bridesmaids can just wear their nicest dresses.”

Sister: “Yeah, but— Wait, are we having GIRL TALK?”

(We give one another a look of mock horror.)

Me: “Dear God! Quick! Say something gross!”

Sister: “Fart!” *pause* “Okay, I think the balance has been restored.”

So Pho, So Crazy, Part 4

| NY, USA | Right | August 3, 2014

(I am half Vietnamese and look somewhat ethnically ambiguous.)

Customer: “Are you Japanese?”

Me: “No, Vietnamese.”

Customer: “Really? Are you sure?”

(Later, another customer runs into the store, heads directly for one of our Buddha statues, and rubs its belly. She is about to dash off again when she sees me looking in her direction.)

Customer: “I’m sorry! Every time I see a Buddha I just have to touch it. But you must understand. You have the look of the Buddha about you.”

(A third customer comes in and asks about the meaning of some Chinese characters on a teapot. Having taken some Chinese in school, and, more relevantly, having read the product description recently, I manage to tell her the meaning of a couple.)

Customer: “Are you Chinese?”

Me: “No, Vietnamese, but I took a bit of Chinese in school.”

Customer: “Really? But isn’t that shaming your family or something?”


Sadly It’s The Same Old Yarn

| Sydney, NSW, Australia | Working | August 3, 2014

(I am the customer, shopping a yarn and knitting shop that is rival to the one I work at. I notice a knitted cardigan on display in the yarn aisles and approach a lady at the counter. I really like it and want to start on it that day.)

Me: “Excuse me. Could you tell me where the pattern is to the blue cardigan hanging in the yarn aisle?”

Cashier: *snapping at me* “You can’t have it for free.”

Me: “I only asked you where it is.”

Cashier: “Well, you can’t have it for free. You HAVE to buy that pattern.”

Me: “I didn’t ask for you to give to me for free. I asked you where it was.”

Cashier: “It’s in a book and I’m not about to give it to you for free.”

Me: “Okay, will you tell me which book it is in?”

Cashier:  *points to book on display BEHIND the counter*

Me:  “Can I see it, please?”

Cashier: “It’s not free. You have to buy the whole book.”


(I go off to look for the recommended yarn. Another staff member walks through the yarn section.)

Me:  “Excuse me. Do you know where this yarn is?”

Staff Member: “I don’t know anything about the yarn section.” *walks off*

(I head over to counter and pull my out phone to ring my work.)

Me: “Hey, [Colleague]. I’m at [Rival Store] and am being given shocking customer service. Can you check to see if we carry this knitting book and yarn please?”

(It turned out we did. I just had to wait a couple of days till my next shift.)

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