You Can Tell From My Face That I’m Not Interested

, , , , , , | Working | April 19, 2019

(Our mall is full of kiosks with people trying to sell random makeup brands, cell phone accessories, etc. I don’t begrudge anyone doing their job, and I understand a lot of them are under pressure to make sales. However, some of them REALLY need to work on their pitch. One day, I’m walking past a kiosk where a woman is trying to sell expensive skin cream.)

Saleswoman: “Here you go, ma’am! Sit down right here.” *pointing to her chair arranged in front of her mirrors*

Me: *smiling and shaking my head* “No, thanks. I’m not interested.”

Saleswoman: *pulls a concerned, comically disgusted face and speaks in a tone of voice as if I were on my deathbed* “Oh, ma’am, I have to ask… What do you use for your facial cream?”

(Maybe I should have been offended or something, which is what my husband told me, but it was just SUCH an incredibly bad attempt to, I don’t know, neg me into a sale or whatever that I just burst into disbelieving laughter at her and kept walking. She turned bright red and glared at me. Hey, maybe I COULD use a fancy skincare regimen, but with a sales pitch like that, there was no way I was going to buy it from her.)

Very Cheesed Off

, , , , | Right | April 12, 2019

(I work in a supermarket deli/bakery combo, and one day a young woman wearing an apron and a hairnet comes rushing up to the counter. The shirt she’s wearing implies she works at a nearby family restaurant. It is during lunchtime when we typically get a lot of customers who want sandwiches or one of our hot meals, and there are only three employees, so we’re all busy with other customers. As she runs up, she immediately begins slapping the counter and snapping her fingers for attention.)

Me: “Someone will be with you as soon as they can, ma’am.”

(She rolls her eyes and folds her arms, huffing angrily, and then starts slapping and snapping again. She has literally been at the counter for less than a minute. Lucky me, I’m the first person done to help her.)

Me: “Hello! Sorry for the wait. What can I get for you today?”

Woman: “I want five pounds of Swiss!”

Me: “Okay. And how would you like that sliced?”

Woman: *pulls an exaggerated face and slaps both hands on the counter like I’m an idiot* “For sandwiches. Hurry it up!”

(I slice the cheese for her — when I show her the first slice to see if it’s thick or thin enough, as we’re required to, she slaps the counter again and rolls her eyes, saying nothing — and pile it all on the scale in front of her.)

Woman: “Oh, no! No, no. Do better.”

Me: “Pardon me?”

Woman: “Why is your cheese so expensive? You’ve got to do better than that for me.”

Me: “Those are our prices as set by the company, ma’am.”

Woman: “No! I know you can put codes and s*** in there to discount it for me. Come on. I work for a living, too!”

(My pleasant customer service persona was rapidly eroding due to her rudeness, and I told her simply that I could not adjust pricing on items as I pleased — which is very true. She spun around and stormed off without getting her cheese, which luckily was a popular enough type that we sold most of it and used the rest for sandwiches easily. It’s beyond me how someone could pull the “we work for a living, have pity on me” card while at the same time treating another service industry person so nastily, no matter how stressed or frustrated they might be with their day. The kicker? I saw her storming up to the till with a few handfuls of pre-sliced cheese packages… It was only part of the amount she had wanted, and yet I still know for a fact was still more expensive than what she would have paid for the stuff she said was too pricey and pitched a fit over. Oh, well.)

Didn’t Make It Through Entree Level

, , , , | Right | April 12, 2019

(I’m the dummy here. It’s been a very long, stressful, busy week for me, so my husband suggests we go out to dinner. While he’s off in the bathroom, the server comes by with plates. I am still feeling “not there” and kind of out of it mentally, dwelling on work and the week.)

Server: “And here are your entrees.”

Me: “Oh, we didn’t order any.”

Server: “Pardon?”

Me: “Those aren’t ours. That’s not what we ordered.”

Server: “Oh, I apologize. What did you order?”

Me: *rattles off both orders: two ENTREE pasta dishes* “But we didn’t order any entree. I’m sorry.”

(The server pauses, looks at what he is carrying — which is EXACTLY what I just said — and then looks at me, in what is in hindsight a very clear “Are you dumb or are you just f****** with me right now?” look. Just then my husband comes back.)

Husband: “Something wrong?”

Me: “No, just a mix-up. He brought us entrees, but we ordered pasta. We… didn’t… order…”

Husband: *seeing it dawning on my face* “Oh, honey.”

(I was so embarrassed and apologized for my brain fart, but the server took it like a champ and said he completely understood and had been there himself more than once. He definitely got a bigger than normal tip for his understanding and putting up with me.)

They Cardly Notice Each Other Anymore

, , , , , , | Romantic | February 27, 2019

(My husband typically works the day shift at his employer. Two weeks ago, the company got a new contract for a job that requires work be done during the night shift, and my husband, being one of the newer employees, is chosen for the job. Instead of working from six am to six pm, he’s now working from six pm to six am and sleeping during the day while I’m away at work. Unfortunately, this means our original plans for Valentine’s Day are ruined, and while we’re sad about it, we decide to celebrate on a later date. Still wanting to do something, I buy a card for him and place it underneath his phone before I leave for work on Valentine’s Day, hoping he’ll see it when he wakes up. Around noon, I get a phone call from him.)

Husband: “Happy Valentine’s Day. I just wanted to let you know I’m heading into work early today. The new guy broke one of the machines, so I’m going to see if I can fix it before calling in the tech. Good news is that since I’ll be there at one this afternoon, I can leave around midnight rather than stay until six, so I can catch up on sleep. Did you see the card I left you?”

Me: “Umm… What card?”

Husband: “Seriously? I left it right by your purse so you’d see it before you left for work.”  

Me: *chuckling* “I’m really sorry. I’ll look for it when I get home. Speaking of which, did you see the card I left you?”

Husband: “Uh…”

Me: “Are you kidding me right now? I left it underneath your phone!”

Husband: *chuckling* “I don’t know what to say. I really don’t.”

Me: “Sheesh. We really belong together, don’t we?”

Husband: “Or we’re just both unobservant.”

Me: “You know what? Don’t ruin the moment on Valentine’s Day.”

(Sure enough, I found his card in the same spot where I left it, and my card was next to where my purse was sitting.)


, , , , , | Romantic | January 30, 2019

(I am sitting by myself on a bench in the local mall, waiting for my husband who has run to the bathroom. I happen to have long hair with streaks of teal in it. I’m replying to some work emails on my phone, not looking around at anyone, when a guy comes up to me.)

Guy: “I just had to tell you…”

Me: *confused, startled look*

Guy: *in what is probably an overly passionate tone for an eight-dollar box-dye job* “Your hair looks like a cascade of peacock feathers trailing down your shoulders.”

Me: *really taken aback by his earnestness, but honestly appreciating the compliment* “Oh. Um. Thanks!”

Guy: “So, I was thinking—“

(At that point, my husband walks up to me.)

Husband: “Okay, honey. Where are we getting lunch?”

(The guy looks at my husband, who is only just noticing him and gives him a polite, inquisitive smile. Then, the guy gives me a positively acidic look.)

Guy: “Okay, TEASE!” *turns and storms off*

(It was confusing, but mostly funny. Sorry my teasing, come-hither cascade of peacock hair lead you on or whatever, my dude. Hope you chill out some and grow up.)

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