I am working in a sandwich shop. We have no problem letting people use the bathroom.
One time, a man enters the restaurant. He has a large and thick beard on his face that makes us assume he is homeless. He goes directly to our bathroom. I am busy serving another customer so I don’t see him clearly when he gets out of the bathroom, but something is off.
His beard has disappeared!
He shaved his face and there is now hair all over the sink and on the floor.
My sister and I live on different continents, so we keep in touch through lots of video calls. This also allows me to keep up with my niece and nephew, both toddlers.
I’ve spent time on the phone talking with them, eating with them, singing to them, and listening to crying, arguments, and tantrums. I’ve also been on video chats during bath time. I’ve heard a lot of hilarious things over the past two and a half years, but this has been the best, without a doubt.
After hearing my sister telling someone to stop peeing in the tub, emptying it, and refilling it, I suddenly heard, “No! Stop! Give me that booger right now!”
I nearly fell out of my chair laughing. She explained that the older one was waving around a giant booger on his hand and getting waaay too close to his little sister. She also agreed that it was one of the most absurd things she had ever had to say. Of course, my nephew thought we were laughing at him and tried to do it again.
(When I first begin my career, I am a bank teller, also known as “the trenches” and the “first line of defense.” We handle all of the customer calls and face-to-face inquiries, schedule meetings, and make sales. This means I deal with people from all walks of life and all manners of intelligence!
One afternoon, I am on the front line and a twenty-something man comes up to my wicket, lazily chewing away on a half-eaten slice of pizza, smacking his jaws loudly.
We review his account, and he was charged $42.50 for having “Not Sufficient Funds” in his account for a regular payment that goes out every month. He takes a bite of pizza as he speaks.)
Customer: “I shouldn’t have been charged that.”
(I always take exception to this and never give an inch. I keep to our policies strictly, and even the times I got NSF fees, I gladly paid the “idiot tax.”)
Me: “I’m sorry, but it is laid out in the documentation you were given when you opened your account. If a payment bounces, you will be charged an NSF fee.”
Customer: *with his mouth full* “But I don’t understand why I got charged.”
Me: “Okay, I’ll help you understand. Let me know you’re with me as I go through this. You had a payment for $150, for your insurance, go out on the 15th…”
Customer: “Yeah.”
Me: “…just like it goes out on the 15th every month for $150.”
Customer: “Yeah.”
Me: “So, we’ve established that you’re aware you need to have $150 in your account every month on the 15th.”
(The customer bites his pizza and just nods.)
Me: “Your payment went out. For $150. On the 15th.”
Customer: “Yeah.”
Me: “You didn’t have $150 in your account. There was not enough money in your account. We couldn’t pay the insurance company.”
Customer: “Yeah.”
Me: “You did not have sufficient funds. Your payment bounced. You were charged a fee.”
Customer: *practically spitting pizza* “I don’t understand why I got charged!”
Me: “Okay, let’s start again.”
Related:
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 90
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 89
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 88
Our home computer is in the kitchen/dining room area. My mom is at the computer and I am in the kitchen. I’m puttering around when I feel the need to blow my nose, so I tear off a paper towel and blow.
Nothing comes out. No snot, boogers, or mucous-like substances. Just hot air. So, now, I’m standing there with a perfectly good paper towel, wondering what to do with it, when I spot a water spill on the counter. Happy that the paper towel shall not go unused, I quickly wipe up the spill with the non-nosed side of the towel and turn to toss it.
That’s when I see my mother looking at me as though she is replaying my entire childhood in her head and wondering where exactly we went wrong with my upbringing. I explain that I’d actually failed to blow my nose, and we share a laugh, but I don’t know if she actually believed me or just thought I was covering for myself.
(I like to do different greetings with my nana when we talk on the phone. Here’s one I just did:)
Me: “Hello, ma’am, I work for a shady makeup company. Which lipstick would you prefer: fire-engine red, petal pink, or alabaster white?”
Nana: “Oh… petal pink.”
Me: “Which perfume would smell better: dog doo or skunk butt?”
Nana: “Neither one of them! Although dog doo doesn’t make your nose burn.”
Me: “Which eyeshadow would look better: corpse yellow or frozen-to-death blue?”
Nana: “You’re morbid.”
