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Florida Man Sends Wife Shopping

, , , , | Right | September 14, 2021

I work in a fabric outlet in Seattle; it’s this big warehouse building, very old, made of huge timbers and an uneven wood floor. We have tables of stuff, and we never know all of what we have because we’re an outlet and stock changes and fluctuates on a daily basis. A woman approaches me.

Customer: “What do you have here that I can’t get in Florida?”

Me: “Well, we do have some pretty unique fabrics over on this table.”

I lead her over to where we’ve set aside some pretty nifty leftover designer fabric. She barely glances at it and sniffs.

Customer: “No. I’m asking you to show me fabrics that you don’t have in the Florida stores.”

Me: “Ma’am, we are a local outlet store. We’re not a chain. We get what we get, and we don’t know what other stores may have in stock.”

Customer: “Then I suggest you do your job, get on your computer thingie, and look at their inventory!”

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t do that. Our outlet store isn’t able to search every other fabric store’s inventories.”

Customer: “So, what you’re telling me is that you’re useless?”

Me: *Coldly* “Goodbye, ma’am. Have a good day.”

I walked away.

Later, she ended up yelling at the manager about how everyone in this store was useless and that we were just too lazy to check “the computer thingies” for the inventories of fabric stores in Florida.

The manager eventually told her in professional tones to either walk through the store and look for herself or to leave. She left in a huff.

At Least She Didn’t Say, “Your Soul,” Or Something Creepy Like That

, , , , , | Related | September 12, 2021

For my birthday, my husband volunteered to supervise a sleepover with our kids and my best friend’s kids so that my best friend and I could have a night away with no responsibilities. We had fun, the kids had a blast, and my husband got a funny story when he found my best friend’s five-year-old wandering the hall at one in the morning.

Husband: “Is everything okay? Do you need something?”

Five-Year-Old: “I’m just… I’m looking…”

Husband: “Can I help you find something?”

Five-Year-Old: “I’m looking for my most favorite thing in the world.”

Husband: “What is it?”

Five-Year-Old: *Wide-eyed, deadpan* “I DON’T KNOW.”

She eventually wandered back to bed, and to this day, we have no idea what her favorite thing is.

Teamwork Can Move Mountains… Or At Least Trees

, , , , , , | Friendly | September 10, 2021

One evening when I was young, the Seattle area was experiencing one of its windstorms, which can produce winds up to ninety miles an hour. My dad came home from work a bit later than usual. He explained that the road had been blocked by a tree felled by the wind. When he got to the downed tree, he was in a small line of traffic; people were honking their horns and he saw the same thing on the other side of the tree.

Dad is pragmatic. He turned on his hazard lights, shut off his engine, got out of the car, went to the driver of the stopped car in front of him, and explained a plan.

Dad: “There are at least a dozen cars blocked by this tree, meaning there are at least a dozen drivers. Surely we can lift the tree together and move it out of the way. Honking certainly isn’t going to move it, and it’s not on any power lines or anything dangerous.”

And he was right: there were enough drivers and passengers who were willing and able to pick up the tree and carry it to the side of the road. After a couple of minutes, traffic was able to pass the road as usual.

I still live in the greater Seattle area, and since getting my driver’s license, I have twice been in the same situation. Both times, I’ve done what my dad did, telling the other drivers, “A while back, this happened to my dad, and he had an idea…” And every time, we get the tree moved in a matter of minutes. Teamwork for the win!

Not Exactly Crystal Clear

, , , , , , | Right | September 9, 2021

I work IT for a bank. My name is comparatively common, with a couple of different similar-sounding variations. I’m fairly used to people almost never calling me by my actual name but one of the variations because they hear it just right/wrong through the phone.

I’m on the phone with a user and they’ve had to set the phone down for some reason. They’ve come back to the phone but aren’t quite speaking fully into the mouthpiece.

User: “Okay, Crystal, I’m back.”

Crystal is nowhere close to my name, other than they start with the same letter, so I think they are possibly talking to another teller and don’t respond. The user shifts the phone and starts panicking.

User: “Crystal! Crystal, are you there? You shouldn’t have hung up on me! Oh, tell me she didn’t hang up on me!”

As they get ready to launch into full-fledged panic mode, I clue in that they’re talking to me. Admittedly, I probably should have picked up on it sooner but I am still new enough that getting called a name that is nothing like my actual name is still surprising.

Me: “Oh, sorry! I didn’t realize that you were talking to me.”

User: “I said your name several times!”

Me: “Um… you didn’t. I thought you might have been talking to a customer.”

Bear in mind, I answered the call with, “[Bank], this is [My Name],” and they said “Hi, [My Name], I’m having this issue.”

User: “Yes, I did! You shouldn’t lie to me, Crystal!”

Me: “My name’s not Crystal.”

User: *Brief pause* “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes.”

User: “Um… Well, uh, can we fix the computer?”

I can’t exactly remember what the issue was, but we got it resolved pretty fast. While I was still at the bank, I kept getting called by the most random names. I started keeping a list just to see. By the time I left, I think the list had something like twenty names on it and there were maybe two that could possibly (if you stretched) be confused with my name.

Wait Until They Discover Venus Flytraps

, , , , , , | Right | September 6, 2021

I’m babysitting a brother and sister who are four and three, respectively. The brother has recently started preschool and is always excited to tell his sister new things he’s learned.

We’re taking a walk around the neighborhood and he points to a fir tree.

Brother: “This is carnivorous!”

I laugh and he asks why.

Me: “This is a coNIFerous tree; it has cones. The word you said is carNIVorous, which means something that eats meat, like a tiger.”

The boy thinks about this for a moment and starts laughing, too. He turns to his sister.

Brother: “Watch out! The tree’s going to eat you!”

The whole rest of the day, the kids chased each other pretending to be man-eating trees.