Words To Get You Shot

, , , , | Right | July 21, 2018

(I work as a holistic/massage therapist in a chiropractor’s office. We primarily handle patients who are recovering from injuries. I love the work, but I have developed a serious case of carpal tunnel and had to switch careers until it is healed. My husband and I decide to take a concealed carry class together, since we both like to go out to the range to shoot, etc. One of my former patients just happens to be in the class. Note: I’m in my mid-20s but still get mistaken for 18 or 19, and this man is in his mid-50s. At the beginning of class:)

Former Patient: “Hey! I thought that was you! How are you, [My Name]?”

Me: “I’m great! My hand is doing much better, and I’ve been looking forward to this class.”

Former Patient: “Me, too! Well, enjoy the class.”

(The first day of the class is all in a “school” setting; we’re all seated at tables in uncomfortable metal chairs for several hours. When it’s time for a break:)

Former Patient: *to me, LOUDLY, from across the room* “Man! My back is killing me! I wish I could lay down on this table and let you do me right here!”

(The entire class stares.)

Me: *speechless and mortified*

My Husband: *laughing… not helpful*

(As soon as the man walks out of the room I turn to the rest of the class.)

Me: “I just want everyone to know that I used to be his holistic therapist at a chiropractor’s office. That’s it.”

(You can see the sigh of relief that sweeps through the rest of the students, and they all go on their breaks.)

My Husband: “So, you think they all thought you were a teenage hooker trying to get her gun license?”

Touch Technology

, , , , , | Working | July 20, 2018

(I write the schedule for my store. In the past, I’ve had access to my own schedule. I don’t write my own schedule, but from time to time it’s been handy when a manager is busy and I need my personal schedule to be changed. Recently they updated the software and I can no longer access my personal schedule. I tend to talk without thinking. The following conversation happens with one of the main bosses, who is the strictest.)

Me: “I was just on the schedule software and noticed a change. I can no longer touch myself. Is there a reason I can no longer touch myself?”

Boss: “Um, yes…. You can’t touch yourself.”

Ringing Some Alarm Bells

, , , , , , , | Right | July 19, 2018

(I work for a retail company specializing in high-quality body jewelry. We operate out of stores and kiosks located in malls. This customer browses our kiosk on a relatively quiet Wednesday night, about 15 minutes before closing. NOTE: she has no visible piercings, and is dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.)

Me: *specific but friendly company greeting* “How are you tonight?”

Customer: “I need a new ring.” *playing on phone*

Me: “Great! Were you looking for a ring for a piercing, or a finger ring?”

Customer: *seemingly disinterested* “I don’t know! Just a ring!”

Me: “Okay, unfortunately we don’t carry finger rings here but—”

Customer: *slams phone on counter* “Why do you keep talking about finger rings?! I obviously need piercing rings!”

Me: “I apologize for the confusion. All right then, what gauge—” *girth of jewelry* “—are you looking for?”

Customer: “Uh… I don’t remember.”

Me: “No worries; that happens all the time. If you have a spare piece of jewelry, you can always bring it in and we can measure that one. Or you can remove your current piece in the bathroom and bring it to us.”

Customer: “I only have the one piece of jewelry! I don’t want to take it out unless I know I have a new one. Can’t you just measure it yourself?”

Me: *reluctant because it’s not recommended* “I can try, but only if it’s a clearly accessible piercing. There’s a lot of kids in here, and anything we show must be kid-friendly.”

(I turn to grab my callipers and hear a zipper unzip loudly. I spin back around to find my customer sitting on the floor, attempting to take off her skinny jeans in the middle of the mall hallway.)

Me: *alarmed* “Ma’am, please don’t take your pants off!”

Customer: “But you need to see the piercing!!”

Me: “Ma’am, where exactly is this piercing?”

Customer: “Well, obviously, one of those!” *points into her jeans*

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I told you it has to be easily accessible and basically child-appropriate. I can’t have you remove or show that piercing in the mall.”

Customer: “Oh, please! They’ll all know what it is soon enough. Just measure this!” *begins unzipping again*

Me: *firmly* “Ma’am, I need you to stop. I cannot help you with this today. You can either take the piece out and bring it inside a sealed ziplock bag, or you can phone your piercer and ask if he knows the gauge.”

Customer: *pleading* “Please? Just this once? I’m so excited for a new piece!”

Me: “I’m genuinely sorry, but those are your only options.”

Customer: *disappointed* “Oh, man, okay. I guess I’ll just come back tomorrow, and then you can put the new piece in for me!”

(She turned and walked away before I could point out that we were in the middle of a hallway next to the food court, and beside a number of children’s stores. There was no way we could do jewelry changes at my location. It was now twelve minutes AFTER closing. She returned again three separate times more to argue the point with managers.)


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Town And Country: The Dungeon Issue

, , , , | Right | July 16, 2018

(I’m at the public library. A librarian is approached by a female patron.)

Patron: “Do you guys carry Playboy or Penthouse magazines?”

Librarian: “No.”

Patron: “Well, there are a bunch of them in the back under a table.”

Librarian: “Okay, I’ll go take a look in a minute. Thank you.”

Patron: “You should get back there, because some kids could see them!”

(The librarian walked back to the area that the patron pointed out and surprisingly saw a few magazines. However, they were all copies of the magazine, “Town and Country.” The issue in question had a cover featuring a female celebrity in a modest dress.)

The Container Couldn’t Contain It

, , , , | Right | July 16, 2018

(I work in a Christian bookstore. We don’t have a dedicated lunchroom. All staff use a table and chairs which are set up behind the store, in front of the shipping container we use as storage. [Coworker #1] and  [Coworker #2] are both male and I am female. Both coworkers rush inside laughing, looking shocked.)

Me: “What’s happening?”

Coworker #2: “You will not believe what is happening out there!”

Me: “What?!”

Coworker #1: “Okay, first of all, [Coworker #2] and I were out there eating lunch. Nothing special. And I looked up to that tall building on the corner. There were people pressed against the glass, looking down our way! One even had binoculars! I thought, ‘What’s so interesting about a black man and a white man eating lunch?!’”

Coworker #2: “He’s not kidding! It was nuts! I thought, ‘What the h*** could they be looking at?’ So, I looked over my shoulder and leaned my chair back a bit to take a look behind the container.”

(Both coworkers start giggling again.)

Me: “And? What?!”

Coworker #2: “There are people back there. Having sex!”

(I gape at him in disbelief.)

Coworker #1: “He’s not kidding. They are having sex!”

Me: “I suddenly need to put this box here in the bin out back.”

(I walk out the back to put the item in the bin, glance over, and yes, there are people having sex on the very hard and sharp rocks between the storage container and the fence. I rush inside and wander in disbelief into the office.)

Me: *to the manager* “Um, [Manager]? There are people having sex behind the container.”

Manager: “What?!”

Me: “Seriously. [Coworker #1] and [Coworker #2] were out the back having lunch and just told me, and I saw for myself.”

(Our manager takes off out the back and I follow. She stops at the end of the container and just looks at them in disbelief.)

Manager: “I don’t think that’s very appropriate, do you?”

Sex-Man: “Yeah, probably, but we’re almost done.”

(The manager walks back inside, not quite knowing what to do. About two minutes later, they wander out from behind the store, wander INTO the store, browse for a while, and then leave.)

Me: *to the manager later* “I think we may have just won the ‘Crazy Work Story’ competition for all time.”


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