A Cents-less Argument

| Australia | Right | April 3, 2017

(I used to work in a supermarket in Australia. Over here the lowest form of physical currency is a 5c piece. So if someone pays in cash, everything rounds up or down to the nearest 5c. In this story I had only been working at the place for a few months and a lady walked over to the register with just a few baby chilies.)

Me: “All right, your total comes to 17c.” *which rounds down to 15*

Customer: “That price is wrong.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “That’s not the right price per kilogram.”

(We check the price in the produce department and find she had been looking at the price for regular red chilies, which are cheaper than the hot baby chilies. By now one of my co-workers is with me helping me with the price check)

Coworker: “Okay, the cheaper price is for large chilies. This is the price for the baby chilies.”

Customer: “No, it said [price].”

Me: “No, you’ve read the wrong price. That’s for the large chilies.”

(My supervisor has noticed the commotion and comes over asking what’s going on. My coworker and I explain:)

Supervisor: “It’s too late to be dealing with this; I’ll just give it to her for that price.”

(Enters in a correction and walks away.)

Me: “Okay, so now your total is 13c.”

(I’m pretty confused at this point wondering why she went to so much trouble when if she’s paying cash, it would’ve come to 15c regardless seeing as thirteen rounds up to 15.)

Customer: “Well, since YOU were wrong, aren’t I supposed to get it for free?”

Me: “Okay, for starters; we’re not wrong. You were wrong and we’re just letting it go this time. So the scanning policy doesn’t apply.”

Coworker: “[Supervisor] is right; this isn’t worth the trouble. Just take the chilies!”

(Customer leaves.)

Me: “All that trouble for fifteen flipping cents.”

The Argument Hasn’t Got A Leg To Stand On

| Nottingham, England, UK | Right | April 3, 2017

(When I was nine I was in a car accident resulting in the loss of the lower part of my left leg. I now wear a solid, life-like, suction-attached prosthetic. I have a “disabled parking” badge but very rarely use it; however, I’ve hurt my back and am in pain through my right hip and thigh. I and my husband both have good jobs and no kids so we have a decent disposable income allowing us to splurge on presents (nice cars, watches, bags, etc.). I’m shopping and park in a disabled bay (one of 12, 5 being used), go in, and am there for two minutes before I hear a customer announcement for the owner of a light blue mini with my reg. I go to customer services and see a security guard. We then go out to my car and there’s another security guard, a middle age woman, and a traffic warden at my car.)

Woman: “That’s her! I saw her park then walk in like she hasn’t a care in the world.”

(The traffic warden asks me a couple of questions,. I show him my license and tell him the other paperwork is in the car. We get it and move to the back of my car. He looks everything over. I then raise my trouser leg a bit to show him my prosthetic.)

Traffic Warden: “Okay, everything seems in order. I’m sorry for any trouble.”

(We turn to the security guards who are listening to the woman rant and moan about me.)

Traffic Warden: “Everything’s fine. There’s no problem.”

Woman: “What the f***? Are you looking at her? There’s nothing f****** wrong with her. My husband has had five years of back problems and two surgeries; we need a disabled space.”

Security Guard: “Madam, the warden has said nothing is wrong. Please stop shouting and swearing at our customers.”

(She then stands in front of me so I can’t pass.)

Woman: “Did this whore offer to blow you or something? I’m sick of these types. Just because they’re pretty they think they can get away with anything!”

(The store manager arrives, telling us the police have been called.)

Woman: *to me* “You little b****. I f****** hate you. No-one who has a car—” *she bangs her fist on my car* “—like this is disabled. No-one who dresses like you is disabled. Is that a [Very Famous French Designer] bag? Did you get that from one of your clients? Whore!”

Security Guard: “Please, madam. We’ve asked you to stop talking like this. Not all disabilities are visible. You need to calm yourself and stop swearing.”

(I’ve had enough. I sit on the bonnet of my car, pull my trouser leg up, detach my prosthetic and stand it next to me on the bonnet. Everyone is quiet. The woman just stands there, staring, opening and closing her mouth. I pull my trouser leg back up as far as it will go so the woman can see my heavily scarred stump and re-attach my prosthetic.)

Me: “Well, I’m going shopping.”

(As I went in I saw a police car pull up. The manager came and found me as I was shopping. He offered me a gift card but I declined; it wasn’t their fault. He also told me that the traffic warden was wearing a pocket camera and everything was recorded. He took my details as the police, after being told what happened, were pressing charges of public nuisance, discrimination charges, and resisting arrest. I was contacted by the police and asked if I wanted to include damage to private property from when she hit my car. I did. She deserved it.)

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Should Stick To Just One Glass A Day

| Australia | Working | March 31, 2017

(I’ve had a very long day and I’m a little sick, and I’ve been on and off complaining to a coworker friend of mine all day. This happens near the end of my shift.)

Me: “I should get wine after work. I need some wine!”

Coworker: “I’ll bet you do. Your WHINE output has been so high all day that you must be running seriously low! As for me, I’ve had my fill of whine today.”

Me: “Thanks for putting up with me.”

Making A Clean Sale

| UK | Working | March 31, 2017

(I am walking by a woman selling a popular water filtering brand at a stall.)

Woman: “Hi! Can I interest you in [Brand] today? They’re on sale and SOO good for you.”

Me: “No, thanks. I’ve always found them a bit too pretentious for my liking.”

Woman: “Oh, but think of all the nasty evil chemicals you drink everyday from just regular water.”

Me: “I’ve lived of that water for 25 years. I can’t say I’m any worse off.”

Woman: “But all of those nasty evil chemicals can do so much damage! You have to think of your health!”

Me: “The UK has some of the cleanest drinking water in the world.”

Woman: “Oh, but—”

Me: “Not to mention that in some parts, water — ANY water — is a luxury to have. I actually can’t imagine anything worse than suggesting that the water drunk in Britain is so dangerous while in Africa every sip you take is a game of Russian Roulette.”

Woman: “Oh, umm…” *looking around embarrassed*

(I take a slow breath, realising how angry I have gotten.)

Me: “Look, I’m sorry if I went off on you. It’s just stuff like this is hard to swallow after spending two years with people who literally don’t have a choice in the matter, while one of the most advanced nations in the world boasts a choice between ‘clean’ and ‘even cleaner’ water.”

Woman: “Oh, it’s all right. I’ve just never thought of it like that. I guess we should thankful for what we have.”

Me: “Yeah, that’s how I see it. Again, I’m sorry.”

(I walked away and started my shopping. Five minutes later, though, I saw her with another woman going gaga over how much better “even cleaner water” is (direct quote). I hope she didn’t abuse my rant to get better sales…)

The Apple Fell Very Far From The Tree

| FL, USA | Working | March 29, 2017

(At the supermarket where I work, they set out daily fresh fruit in the break-room for the employees… usually just apples, bananas, and oranges, but occasionally other things like sliced watermelon and strawberries. This, along with free bottles of water and soda, is company policy, and a lot of us enjoy it. I walk in one morning to see a new guy, about my age (I’m in my early 30s), from another department sneering at it.)

Guy: “Can you believe this? What do they think we are… three?”

Me: “What?”

Guy: “Fruit! Like we’re freaking kids or something.”

Me: “Uh. Do you not… eat fruit?”

Guy: *gives me a scornful look* “No. Because I’m an ADULT.”

Me: “…okay, then.”

(I shrugged, grabbed an orange, then sat down and set about peeling it. Another coworker walked in and the guy gestured to me with a “Can you believe her? What, is she a toddler?” The other coworker was just as confused as I was. Maybe one day I’ll be cool as the other guy and only eat adult food like, I presume, steak and potatoes and tax forms, but until then, I’ll just enjoy my baby orange.)

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