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You Don’t Work In The Same Field

, , , , , | Working | July 17, 2018

(I ride the bus in to my work each day, as do a few of my coworkers. We meet up occasionally and sit together. I am sitting next to a newer coworker. We are both female.)

Coworker: *lets out a loud whistle*

Me: *surprised* “What? What’s happening?”

Coworker: *in a loud whisper* “Check out dat a**!”

(She points at a man standing a little ways down the bus, who shifts, glancing at us and looking uncomfortable. I guess I look a little shocked or disgusted.)

Coworker: “What? I’m just leveling the playing field.”

(The man got off at the next stop quickly. I felt bad, and I ended up not sitting next to that coworker in the future.)

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You Just Gotta Bounce With The Flounce

, , , , , | Friendly | June 18, 2018

(I am at a convention with a friend from England. We go shopping, and I request something that isn’t on the shelf. The young lady helping me is gone for a couple minutes when a nice young man with a shop name-tag comes up to me.)

Employee: “Hello, are you being helped?”

Me: “Yes, I am. She’s getting me some soap I wanted.”

Employee: “Very well!”

(His reply isn’t too off, but he spins around, raises one hand to head height, lets it flop, then literally minces off to find another customer. I come from a rather conservative part of the country, and what experience I have with gay bars indicates that, if a “look” is cultivated, it is more like “urban cowboy,” so I am thrown off just for a moment. I shrug it off and return to the conversation with my friend, but he cuts me off and says:)

Friend: “Well, he was as camp as a row of tents.”

(I had trouble containing my laughter.)

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Flying In From Britainistan

, , , , , | Working | June 12, 2018

(My wife and child are going to a family wedding on her side in San Francisco. I can’t go due to work commitments. My wife never took my name after we got married, but my daughter has my surname. We were all born and raised in the UK but we are of Indian descent. When they reach passport control, the lady checks the passports:)

Border Control: “Has your daughter taken your husband’s name?”

Wife: “Yes, she has.”

Border Control: “Do you have the birth certificate with you to show the child is yours?”

Wife: “No, that has never been an issue before.”

Border Control: “Oh, didn’t they ask you for this when you left Pakistan?”

Wife: *rather coldly* “No, we actually came from the UK, and they said nothing.”

(The border control officer goes sheepish and mumbles an apology.)


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The Flaunting Is Haunting

, , , , , | Right | May 9, 2018

(I work at a place that specializes in men’s suits and formal attire. Two men come in during a quiet period and begin browsing our selection, all the time making small talk to each other.)

Me: “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Man #1: “Not right now. Please leave; we’re discussing important decisions!”

(He makes a shooing gesture at me, and I duly return to the register. The two keep walking around, nattering endlessly to each other, before the man who spoke turns and walks right up to me.)

Man #1: “Well, maybe I’ll come back and buy the whole store next time.”

(I look up, caught off guard by this comment. Believing it to be a joke, I smile and nod.)

Me: “Sounds like a plan, sir.”

(The man suddenly looks offended.)

Man #1: “What? You don’t believe me? Don’t think I’ve got the money to clean you out?”

Me: “Uh… I’m sorry?”

Man #1: “How do you know I’m not a millionaire? I could have the finances to buy this whole store and slap my own brand on it!”

Me: “What? What are you talking about?”

Man #1: “How would you feel, knowing you just cost this place the biggest sale ever? Why should I buy anything, now that I know it’s staffed by incompetent, judgmental d**ks?”

(I’m getting rather ticked off by this guy’s attitude, but before I can say anything, one of our regular customers comes into the store.)

Me: “Oh, good afternoon, [Regular].”

Regular: “Hey there, [My Name]! Have you got more of those [Brand] shirts I called about?”

Me: “Sure, just over there.”


Me: “I’m sorry, sir, it’s my job to help all customers with their queries.”

Man #1: “Yeah, well, guess what? You suck at it!” *he pulls out his wallet* “See this? There’s been over $5,000 in this at any given time, and now your store ain’t gettin’ a penny of it, because you’re a worthless s***. I’m a millionaire, and I demand respect!”

Regular: “Actually, I doubt that.”

Man #1: “What? And who are you to judge?”

(The regular customer pulls out a business card, revealing himself to be a rather well-known local entrepreneur.)

Regular Customer: “Well, last I checked, my net worth was around 4.1 million, meaning that technically, I am a millionaire. With that in mind, I can honestly tell you that anyone who actually knows how to manage money to be this successful knows that part of being a good businessman is not to insult others, or to flaunt your wealth as means of belittling them, so your behavior is highly suspect. Second off, if you’re worth as much as you say, you’d also know how insanely stupid it is to carry large amounts of cash on your person, as that makes you a prime target for thievery. Granted, you may indeed have won a lot of money, or come into it, but even so that’s no excuse for being an a**hole. Certainly you can rest assured I’m never going to want to do business with you now, if this is how you act in public!”

([Man #1] sputters and looks at the card, the color draining from his face. His friend finally leans over and speaks up.)

Man #2: “Dude, we’d better go.”

(They hurry out of the store, leaving my regular customer shaking his head.)

Me: “Wow, uh, thank you immensely! Your timing was impeccable there!”

Regular: “Don’t mention it. I run into jerks like that far too often during the course of my day. Heck, the reason I shop at places like this rather than the more upscale locations is because I usually can rest assured I won’t run into any more!”

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Returner Burner, Part 8

, , , , , | Right | April 17, 2018

Me: “Hello, sir. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Hi, I’d like to return these pants.”

Me: “Sure, can I see your receipt?”

Customer: “I don’t have one.”

Me: “Well, since these are [Jeans], which is a national brand, I can’t accept the return.”

Customer: “Can I speak with a manager?”

Me: *internal sigh* “Sure.”

(As I’m about to reach for the phone to page for a manager, I notice ANOTHER store’s tag on the pants.)

Me: “Sir, did you buy these at another store?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: *pause* “Then you need to go to that store.”

Customer: “But they wouldn’t accept it and you guys carry the brand so I thought you would.”

Me: “No, we can’t accept the return nor give you store credit.”

Customer: “WELL, FINE!” *storms off*

Returner Burner, Part 7
Returner Burner, Part 6
Returner Burner, Part 5

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