Six Hours In Hell

, , , , , , | Right | June 16, 2018

(I clean houses for extra money. As I live on the coast, a lot of them are holiday lets, but this is a domestic clean. The “lady” of the house rings me and asks if I can clean her house twice a week.)

Lady: “I reckon it will take about six hours.”

Me: *thinking* “Does she live in Buckingham Palace? An average house takes about two hours to clean.” *saying* “Okay, I will pop round and see you!”

(I get the address and am greeted by two four-wheel drives on the driveway, which already gives me an impression of whom I am dealing with.)

Me: “Hi! I am the cleaner.”

Lady: “Yes. In here.”

(I walk into a kitchen that is an absolute mess and stank of dogs and cigarettes. I smoke, but this makes my eyes water.)

Me: “So, what is it you wanted?”

Lady: “Well, I want somebody here for six hours and I want them to do…” *she takes me round the house and it is obvious she just wants somebody to boss around* “…and I don’t want to be their friend, and I want to be able to sack them when I want.”

Me: “Okay, what days did you want?”

Lady: “Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Me: “Oh, no! I am booked up on those days.”

(I got out quick. I still drive past that house and wonder if she ever did get a cleaner that would spend six hours in that smell and would be sacked at whim. And it still makes me chuckle.)

Restroom Leads To Arrest Rooms

, , , , , , | | Right | June 12, 2018

(Our store’s bathrooms are closed for renovations. However, one of our neighboring stores has allowed our customers to use their restrooms until we are finished. One day, I notice a customer trying to get into our bathrooms, despite signs clearly explaining our current situation.)

Customer: “Why the hell are your bathrooms locked?! I need to take a p**s!”

(I am a bit irritated at her sudden anger, but I try my best to remain calm and polite.)

Me: “Our restrooms are currently being renovated. However, [Store next to us] is allowing our customers to use their restroom.”

Customer: “F*** you! I need to p**s! I’m not walking all the way over there!”

Me: “Ma’am, our bathrooms are being renovated. They do not even have sinks yet. We would be happy to hold your items at the front while you go next door. It is not a very long walk.”

(We argue back and forth for several minutes. I even show her the bathrooms in an attempt to prove my point. After nearly five minutes, I manage to calm her down a bit.)

Me: “Would you like me to hold your stuff at the front?”

Customer: “No. I want to finish shopping first. I’m already over here.”

(She ended up taking some clothes into the dressing room to try a few items on. However, after a minute or two, I saw liquid leaking from under the curtain. Since there was only a curtain, not a locking door, I checked on her just to be sure. Upon opening the curtain, I was greeted by a horrible sight. She had taken off her pants and was squatting over a pile of clothes, including some of our most expensive items, and relieving herself, both #1 and #2. Even after I opened the curtain, she continued peeing at full force for nearly a minute. I was only able to stand there in disgust and horror. Upon finishing, she stood up, wiped herself with yet another article of clothing, and pulled up her pants, all while maintaining eye contact with me. I managed to call security before she left, and she ended up paying for the damage and being banned from our store, but not before she blamed our store for what had happened.)

That Problem Is Licked… Literally

, , , , , | Right | June 12, 2018

(I am a cashier working the night shift. The store I work at installed chip readers last year, but people are still having trouble using them. A customer approaches my checkout stand at about 11 pm with his girlfriend, and I ring them up.)

Me: “Your total today comes to [total].”

Customer: “Okay. Slide or chip?”

Me: “Chip.”

(The customer proceeds to insert his card into the chip reader. It gives him an error message and tells him to remove the card. He tries again, only to get the same error. Visibly frustrated, he actually LICKS his card and sticks it back in!)

Me: “Did… Did you just lick your card?”

Customer: “Yeah. It upsets the machine and lets me swipe my card.”

(He swipes his card and it works.)

Girlfriend: “I feel uncomfortable.”

If You Treat The Cows Like Crap…

, , , , , , | Right | June 11, 2018

(I’m 18 in this story, working on a 200,000-acre grazing allotment, basically babysitting 1,200 beef cows for a ranch. The allotment is broken up into sections and we have to move the cattle from one section to the next within a given time frame to avoid fines, and while the area is really remote, there are some hiking trails, a fairly well-known lake, and other places that attract outdoorsy tourists. At this time, the other cowhand and I are moving about 300 head from one allotment to another on the dirt road. The other hand is up front, “pointing” the cows and trying to keep them from heading the wrong way, which isn’t too hard since the road is fairly narrow with a steep hill on one side and a drop-off on the other. I’m at the back on a young horse, pushing the stragglers to keep up. Note that livestock have the right of way and if you hit someone’s cow, you’re responsible. A guy in a shiny sports car comes roaring up on us, honking his horn. Once I get my colt under control I give him a crusty look. He rolls down his window.)

Tourist: “You need to move them off the road. I have places to be!”

Me: “You’re just going to have to wait. As you can see, there are 300 head and the road is narrow. When it’s wide enough up ahead, the cows will spread out and I’ll help you through.”

Tourist: “That won’t work! I need to get through. You need to get them out of the way.”

Me: “Dude, they have the right of way.”

Tourist: “I don’t care. Get them off the road.”

(I look pointedly at the steep hillside and drop-off on the sides of the road.)

Me: “Where?”

Tourist: “That’s not my problem.” *starts honking again*

(The cows ignore him, but my horse shies. While I’m settling him down, the guy revs his car and bumps into the hind legs of one of the cows. I make note of his license plate.)

Me: “If you injure a cow, you’ll be paying for it. State law.”

Tourist: “Where I come from, the cowboys will move the cows out of the way and be polite about it.”

Me: “Go back where you came from, then.”

Tourist: “B****.” *gets to close to cow and acts as if he’ll bump her again*

Cow: *takes massive crap on his hood*

Tourist: “Oh. My. GOD!”

(He finally slowed down and backed off. When the road widened out and the cattle drifted apart, he went blasting through them. The cow was fine, my horse had a good lesson, and two days later the ranch owner stopped in to tell us that the guy had complained to the rangers about us. Luckily, I’d spoken to a forest ranger first chance I got and gave him the guy’s description and plate number, so they had an idea of what happened and they advised him as to our free-range laws.)

Call Me Grand-Daddy

, , , , , | | Right | June 7, 2018

(There’s a new movie out called “Dirty Grandpa.”)

Every Single Old Customer That Walks In: “A ticket for Dirty Grandpa. Not that I am one!”

(Then they wink at me and walk away, leaving me desperate for a shower.)

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