Love-Sick As A Parrot

, , , , , , , | Romantic | September 1, 2018

I come to Canada with my grandmother so she can meet my boyfriend. She and I are going to meet him for lunch, and we have a bit of time to spare, so she and I figure we’ll go to a nearby butterfly garden. This garden is also home to some parrots, which is my main interest in going, as I’m fascinated with birds of all sorts. I am taking pictures of a beautiful parrot when all of a sudden he flies at me. He lands on my arm and begins walking all over me, and, again, being an avid birder, I am quite excited. Little children come up to pet him while he is on my arm, also full of excitement.

Then, things become a little awkward.

The bird starts getting all sorts of frisky with my hand. A little girl tries to get him to move to her arm, which, thank goodness, he refuses, but he keeps going at my hand. By the time he finally flies away, I have a small crowd of kids surrounding me and the bird, petting him while he does unspeakable things, and I do my best to downplay what is happening.

When I tell my boyfriend about it later, we have quite a good laugh!

Room With A Screw

, , , , , , , | Right | August 31, 2018

I am working on reception at a fairly up-market hotel. A female customer comes to check out. She is attractive but looks very tired.

She has been with us for a fortnight and in that time she has never allowed housekeeping into her room. She has requested many new towels, though, leaving the dirty ones outside her door for pick-up.

We have been suspicious about her for a while, thinking she is probably a prostitute. This is against our rules, but the hotel is quite big and people can enter the premises without coming under the nose of reception staff, so it’s hard to catch them out. As long as their customers are discreet and they don’t cause a noise complaint or similar anti-social issue, there’s not much we can do about it.

When I print out the bill, she offers me a wad of cash, many thousands of dollars. We don’t have a credit card imprint, because she checked in with a cash bond, instead. I smile and tell her it will just be a couple of minutes, as we have to check her mini-bar, and dash up to her room.

It is an absolute ruin.

The carpet is dotted with hundreds of burns, where cigarettes have been flicked onto the floor. It’s also stained with food and wine.

The curtains have sweat marks on them. The glass is cracked in the shower. The bed is a wreck, structurally broken at one end and horribly stained across the mattress.

And the whole room stinks of body odour and smoke. It is absolutely overpowering, making me want to retch. We are a non-smoking hotel, and it smells like she was burning tyres in there.

I march back down to reception and let her know we have to repaint the room, replace the carpet and furniture, and charge her for the week it will take to do it. This is a standard charge for room-wreckers, which adds more than $20,000 to her bill.

She pays at once. In cash.

Inching Away From A Health Hazard

, , , , | Right | August 29, 2018

(It’s about an hour until closing time on Friday evening and a group of six teenagers come into the store. They eventually make their way back to where office furniture is displayed and sit down in several of our chairs. I am on my way back to take care of trash in the restrooms when I hear their conversation veering to the topic of, shall we say, male endowment.)

Teenager: “I don’t know; six inches seems pretty big to me.”

(I walk past carrying a cartful of full trash bags.)

Teenager: “Excuse me; where are the rulers?”

Me: “Uh… office basics, but if you’re planning on using it for that, I’d ask that you buy it and wait until you get home.”

(The group starts laughing, obviously not prepared for me to have overheard them.)

Teenager: “Oh, no, I just wanted to show them something on it.”

Me: “Uh-huh.”

(Minutes later, after I’ve relayed the story to my coworkers.)

Me: “He’s so lucky I didn’t direct him to where the mini-rulers are!”

“Jump” Past This Failed Attempt

, , , , , | Right | August 29, 2018

(I am an assistant manager at a local gas station and convenience store. I am male. A customer in his mid-50s comes in playing “Jump” by Van Halen on his phone. He grabs a few things and orders a sandwich at our deli counter. I like the song; the man has good taste I think, until he comes to pay. He sets his phone on the counter without looking at it. I’m shocked to see the video accompanying the song, which is a pornography compilation of women showing their breasts. I say nothing, waiting for him to notice as I ring out his items. After 30 seconds or so, he looks down and acts surprised.)

Customer: “Oh! What’s that?! I don’t even know…”

(He exits the video, and I realize it wasn’t some popup or anything. It was a video sent to him on Facebook messenger, which meant it was clearly intentional to view it.)

Customer: “Hah, sorry about that! I don’t… I don’t know how that got on there!”

Me: “It’s fine, sir. Here’s your bag.”

Customer: “I hope you didn’t get too excited, though!” *laughs*

Me: “If I did, my boyfriend might be a little weirded out. Have a nice night.”

(The customer went wide-eyed, nodded, and left, muttering how he didn’t know how the video started.)

Getting Ahead Of This Slip

, , , | Right | August 17, 2018

(For work experience, I spend a week as a barista at a small cafe. About three days in, this happens:)

Regular Customer: “Hey! Who’s this, then?” *referring to me*

Supervisor: “This is [My Name]! He’s with us for the week. I’ll leave you to it. Trust me; he makes great coffee.”

(I try not to gush, and ask the customer — a fairly burly man — what he’d like.)

Regular Customer: “I’ll have a single shot of espresso.”

Me: “Just a single shot? You’re the first to order that, actually.”

Regular Customer: “Well, I’m actually Italian! Most of my family just has espresso shots, sometimes double. Not a fan of the milk ones.”

(I carry on making the espresso shot, easily the simplest task I’ve had all week. The crema — also called the head; the brown layer on top of the coffee — is absolutely perfect, and I hand it to the customer.)

Regular Customer: “Wow, you do great head!”

Me: “…”

Regular Customer: “…”

Me: “…”

Regular Customer: “You, er, know what I mean.”

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