Caught In A Sherry Trifle

| Yorkshire, England, UK | Working | November 13, 2016

(I go to the supermarket to get sherry for my mum. There’s a big overhead sign in one of the alcohol aisles saying something like ‘Spirits, Sherry, Liqueur.’ I look up and down the aisle for the sherry, but can’t find it anywhere, and I don’t know what the bottles look like. I stop an assistant on his way past the aisle.)

Me: “Hi, could you help me, please? I’m looking for sherry, but I can’t find where it is on this aisle.”

Assistant: *points at sign*

Me: “I know it’s on this aisle, but I can’t find whereabouts on the shelves it is.”

Assistant: “It’s on this shelf.” *points at shelf in general, with is at least 20ft long*

Me: “Yes, but whereabouts? I’ve been looking on this shelf for several minutes, but I haven’t found it. I can see the whisky, brandy, liqueurs and stuff… but no sherry.”

Assistant: “It’s on the sign. It’s on this aisle. Why do customers always ask me things like this?” *points at sign* “Sherry! Right there. Sherry.”

(I walked off to the end of the aisle and decided to look at every bottle until I found it. Eventually I did, at the other end of the aisle, and there was only a few bottles of it there. I made a mental note of what the sherry bottles look like in case something like this happens again.)

No Point Crying Over Unsold Milk

| Ireland | Working | November 12, 2016

(Sample stands aren’t terribly common where I live, but every few months a major brand will have one for promotional materials. I spot the stand for a rather expensive brand of milk which I don’t buy unless it’s my only option, but having already found the coupons being given out in my trolley I don’t go too close. The stand worker comes up to me when I am very clearly looking at the shop’s own-brand cartons…)

Representative: “Excuse me, would you like some coupons for [amount] off [Brand]?”

Me: *politely, but not making eye contact* “No, thank you.”

Representative: “Okay. Just wanted to save you some money…” *walks back to stand*

(How she thought that passive-aggressive comments would help convince someone looking at milk that was less than half price — and just as good as what she was flogging, without useless additives — is still beyond me…)

His DUI Was DOA

| NSW, Australia | Friendly | November 7, 2016

(I went to school with a number of guys who liked to live party life and as a result were pretty reckless. One guy I work with is no exception. I get to work one morning and I see him sitting at the break table looking like is in a foul mood!)

Me: “Morning. What’s up?”

Coworker: *frowns* “F****** cops took my f****** license away!”

Me: “Oh, wow, what did you do?”

Coworker: “It’s all a bunch of bull-s***!”

Me: “Well… clearly not since they took your license away; what did you?”

Coworker: “Got caught drink driving three times!”

(I take a second to process what he has said. In my high school there have been several fatalities due to drink driving that has left some of my classmates devastated.)

Me: “You f****** moron. What were you thinking?”

Coworker: “A**-holes have nothing better to do that; that’s what wrong!”

Me: “Was it not warning enough the first time?”

Coworker: “I’m not hurtin’ no one.”

Me: “Dude, that’s bloody dangerous! You could have been killed or someone else might have died. Do you not see how stupid that was?!”

Coworker: “Only s*** drivers kill people; I know my way around town.”

Me: “That’s not the point… You know what? Forget it!”

Coworker: “I’m not hurting anyone. That is all just bull-s***! I’m a good driver!”

Me: “If you’re so good, then why did you lose your license?”

(My coworker sat there and glared at me. Realizing I was wasting my time I walked away from him and just let him stew in his own juices. Soon I went overseas for university. I never found out if he got his license back. Just hoped he wised the h*** up later on.)

Turning Alcohol Into Whine

| Wickham, WA, Australia | Right | November 2, 2016

(Due to an unknown genetic disease, I’ve been left with almost no sense of smell. On this particular night, a drunk man comes in and accidentally drops his bottle of alcohol on the floor. Being the only one who can’t smell it, my supervisor sends me to clean the mess when this interaction occurs. Note that I am 19 and have moved out of home by this time.)

Customer: “Oh, darling, it mustn’t be very nice having to clean up after other people. But don’t you be getting high off of those alcohol fumes!”

Me: “Well, I don’t think you can get intoxicated just by inhaling this stuff, but I’m not bothered by the smell much.”

Customer: “I suppose you mustn’t be. A lot of children like you have drunken parents. I’m sorry you have to go home to that.”

Me: *a bit offended* “I actually moved out of home last year. I turn 20 soon and my parents never drank.”

Customer: “Now, you can try to cover for them but it’s okay to tell people about living with parents addicted to alcohol. Did they force you to drink? Is that why you aren’t bothered by the smell?”

Me: *rather irate at this point* “I have a disease. I can’t smell because of that. I’d like to stop talking to you about this now, if you don’t mind.”

(The customer bows and shakes her head slowly, and I can hear her tutting.)

Customer: “So they got to you too, did they? Poor innocent youth…Yes, addiction is a disease, but you can overcome it by listen to the word of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.”

(By this point I’m astonished by her stupidity, and the mess is all clean. After giving her a weird look, I walk away and wonder what the heck just happened!)

Shot Yourself In The Foot

| Brisbane, QLD, Australia | Right | October 20, 2016

(I’m stocking shelves when a customer approaches.)

Customer: “Excuse me; do you not sell kangaroo meat anymore?”

Me: “It should be over this way; however, it may have moved somewhere else.”

(As I take the customer to where I’m pretty sure the kangaroo meat is kept, he continues talking.)

Customer: “It must be because they’ve stopped the shooting. No one knows how to shoot anymore, so there’s no one to shoot the kangaroos! That’s why you don’t have any! People these days, they don’t know how to shoot!”

(At this point we reach the right section, and sure enough, the fridge is packed with various brands of kangaroo meat.)

Me: “Here it is.”

Customer: “Oh.”

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