Bra-ce Yourself For A Weird Conversation

, , , , | Right | October 13, 2018

(I work hiring out animals for children to ride. On slow days I spend a lot of time reading, often sitting on said animals, as I don’t have another chair. An older woman approaches me while I am reading.)

Customer: *in a slightly accented voice* “What a good idea!”

Me: “Yeah, the kids love it.”

Customer: “Smart idea, good thinking.” *says something I don’t understand*

Me: *smiles and curses my poor hearing* “Uh-huh.”

Customer: “I can’t get a good bra.” *gestures at nearby clothes store*

Me: *smile now frozen* “Uh-huh.”

Customer: “I can’t reach behind me because my hand is broken, and they never have ones that button in front.”

Me: *too dumbfounded to figure out way to end this* “That’s too bad.”

Customer: “I can make them do up in front — sew them back together and put buttons in — but they’re never in white. Always with spots. Can’t have spots, not on stage.”

Me: *cursing my life and politeness* “Uh-huh.”

Customer: “Wish they would employ me here.” *gestures at my desk* “Back home they do not; they say, ‘You belong on stage, not working.’ Wonder what would happen if I got on the table and started singing?”

Me: *thinking* “Nothing great.”

Customer: “But I can never find a good bra. No good ones here.”

This Kind Of Stupid Shouldn’t Be Legal

, , , , , , | Legal | October 12, 2018

(I am lawyer who works at a legal office. I open some mail addressed to me. A letter says that a lady has sued one of my clients without going to court and is ordering him to pay $100,000 or she will leak confidential information. I call my client and inform him of this, and he tells me not to worry about the bluff and to just bin it. In about two weeks I get a phone call from my client in a panic.)

Me: “Hello, Mr. [Client]. How are you today?:

Client: “Not f****** good!”

Me: “What is the problem, sir?”

Client: “You know that weird lady?”

Me: “Yes, what did she do?”

Client: “Well, she posted all this stuff all over my Facebook wall that was not true. I am now getting terrible messages saying stuff that I am not. I am losing customers from my online shops and everything!”

Me: “Okay, do not delete the messages. Copy every message and send them to me for evidence. Just get off that account while I work on this for you.”

Client: “So, you want these message sent to you?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

(The client sends the messages. We decide to sue for defamation since she has said stuff that is not true and he has now suffered financial loss because of it. Fast-forward about six months. We are about to have our hearing in court when I drop by the office on Saturday to collect some files. I walk in and see the lady that is in the court case ruffling through my files.)

Me: “Hey, [Lady], get out of there! You are not permitted to be here, and this is trespassing.”

Lady: “Oh, f*** off, you little b****. I am taking this evidence so you won’t be able to do anything to me anymore!”

Me: “Listen, we have security cameras rolling 24/7 here. In fact, your face has been on camera the entire time.”

Lady: “I don’t care! They don’t know it is me—”

Me: “It records audio, as well, and you just admitted to a crime.”

Lady: “But—” *sprints to the front door that is locked*

Me: “That door is locked.”

(I call the police while she is struggling with the door.)

Lady: “Let me out!”

Me: “Police have been called; please remain here.”

(The police arrive soon after the call and handcuff her.)

Me: “I would like to press charges on her, please; she has broken a lot of laws!”

Lady: “Oh, go f*** yourself!”

Me: “I will. Have a nice time!”

(I got a call on Monday… Guess who wanted me as their lawyer?)

The Only Right Being Violated Is The One To A Safe Working Environment

, , , , | Right | October 6, 2018

(I am currently working as a ticket seller for an international boat show. Aside from their tickets, customers need to be stamped just in case they want to go in and out of the venue. Everything is going dandy; the flow couldn’t be any more perfect. That is, until an old man in his mid- to late sixties comes up to my coworker’s window:)

Coworker: “Good morning, sir! What will it—”

Customer: “DO I HAVE TO GET MY HAND STAMPED? I FIND THE THOUGHT OF GETTING INK ON MY SKIN DEEPLY AND HIGHLY OFFENSIVE!”

Coworker: “Um… I’m sorry, sir, but—”

Customer: “THERE HAS TO BE AN ALTERNATIVE! I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS VIOLATION OF MY RIGHTS!”

Coworker: *clearly flabbergasted by his hysterics*

(Luckily, my supervisor stepped right in before the man went berserk, and everything was sorted out pretty quickly. I hope he didn’t give the ticket scanners another earful about his deep, dark fears.)

Insert True Feelings About Bad Customers Here

, , , , , | Right | October 2, 2018

(I’ve just finished ringing up a sale. The customer is paying by card. Credit cards need to be inserted into a slot, while savings cards need to be swiped; every shop is the same. I’ve had another customer trying to butt in and am trying to finish the transaction even though they are trying to distract me.)

Me: “Could you please swipe your card?”

Customer: *swipes his card, the machine states it needs to be inserted* “It’s telling me to insert it.”

Me: “Oh, sorry. Just insert it, please. I didn’t notice that it was a credit card.”

Customer: *now ranting* “YOU DIDN’T TELL ME TO INSERT IT. I ALWAYS INSERT IT. WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME TO INSERT IT? THIS IS BAD SERVICE! I AM SUPPOSED TO BE TOLD TO INSERT IT!”

Numb From The Pain

, , , , , | Healthy | September 25, 2018

(I am in high school, with braces on my upper and lower teeth. My orthodontist decides that the overcrowding on my lower teeth is proving a big enough problem to warrant the removal of two perfectly healthy molars. I can’t say I am impressed, but I don’t have a choice and I am assured it won’t hurt, so I am not too worried. Sitting in the chair at the dentist, I am mostly nervous of the needles I’ll receive for anaesthetic. I receive a needle on each side and am given a moment for it to set in.)

Dentist: “How’s that for you?”

Me: “I can feel that.”

Dentist: “Yes, you’ll feel pressure.”

(The dentist pokes a pointy tool into my gum.)

Me: “Ow, no, I mean it feels like it always would.”

(The dentist looks sceptical, but gives me a second dose of anaesthetic and another moment for it to set in. My mum sits next to me. She’s been quiet all this time. The dentist pops out of the room. I lean over and tell her that everything feels normal; nothing is numb. I ask her, “Please don’t let her do this.” She begins to say something; I can’t remember what. The dentist comes back in.)

Dentist: “Nonsense. She’s lying. You can’t feel anything.”

(I protest, but the dentist basically forces her tools into my mouth and my mum kind of holds me down. The dentist starts cutting into my gum. I scream and wail.)

Dentist: “Oh, stop; it’s just pressure.”

(She continued the procedure, and I kept wailing and crying and gripping my mum’s hand. Afterwards, Mum’s hand was red raw, and she was flustered. She legitimately thought I was just scared, like most kids and teens. I remember shaking and feeling too woozy to say anything further to the dentist. I don’t know whether I’d have been physically able to, either. What I do remember is that the procedure had happened at eight am and that before lunch time my entire face went numb, so I had to spend about five hours with my face over a bucket, the drool pouring out in a constant stream. I vaguely remember my mum and dad both on the phone with the dentist in the other room with some muffled shouting of some kind.)

Page 1/2812345...Last
Next »