“No Sign” Of A Comeback

, , , | Right | September 15, 2017

(I am at a convenience store getting gasoline, cigarettes, and a soda. It’s a small store, with only two pumps. As I pull in, I notice one of the nozzles has a large yellow plastic bag on it clearly marked, “Out Of Order,” so I pull my car around the other side, get out and go in the store to pay for my gas. As I am crossing the parking lot, another truck pulls up to the other [broken] pump but I don’t think much about it. As I am in the back of the store getting my drink, I hear the clerk speak into the intercom and tell the driver of the truck that pulled in after me that the pump is broken, meaning that the guy has tried to use it, in spite of the big yellow bag over the nozzle. Just as I am getting up to the counter to pay for my things, he sticks his head in the door and yells at the cashier:)

Truck Driver: *very rudely* “Are you the one who told me the pump was broken?!”

Cashier: “Yes.”

Truck Driver: *shouting* “Well, you could have marked the g**-d***ed thing as broken!”

(Before the cashier has a chance to say anything, I say:)

Me: “You mean other than the bright yellow bag that said, ‘out of order,’ on it?”

(The truck driver stares a hole through me and turns around, gets in his truck, and leaves.)

Cashier: “I appreciate that; I would have had to be nice.”

Me: “You can get fired; I can’t.”

You Wanna Get Hazelnuts? Then Let’s Get Hazel-Nuts!

, , , , , | Friendly | September 14, 2017

(I’ve had a horribly rough day at work and want one of my favorite drinks, a butterbeer blended ice drink, similar to a frappuccino, from my regular coffee shop. It’s a rarely-purchased item, because it takes a lot of extra syrup shots and costs close to $8, but I figure the day I’ve had is worth the cost.)

Me: *to barista* “Can I get a butterbeer frappe, please?”

Customer: *behind me* “Oooh, what’s that?”

Me: “It’s five shots of hazelnut, four of vanilla, and two of caramel; then you top it with whip cream and caramel sauce. You can do the coffee blend or the vanilla blend; it tastes good either way. But it’s expensive!”

Customer: “Is it on their secret list?”

Me: “No, but a friend of mine who works here made the drink up, and we’ve always come here when we need one.”

(I sit down to wait for my drink, which comes out at the same time as the one for the other customer I’d been talking to earlier. However, when I grab for my drink, I realize it doesn’t have my name on it and start to look around for the other cup.)

Me: “Hey, [Barista], I thought you said mine was ready?”

Barista: “It is… wait, d*** it. I made a point to set that other girl’s drink to the side for her, because she was eyeing yours. She grabbed your cup, didn’t she? D*** it. I’ll make yours up again, sorry.” *glares at the other customer, who is looking smug*

Me: *approaching the customer’s table* “You have my drink.”

Customer: *smiles as she puts her straw in the drink and sips from it* “I don’t think so. I think I got the right one, and yours is on the counter still.” *when she sets it down, I notice my name on it and all the markings which clearly indicates she grabbed the wrong one*

Me: “Your name is [My Name]?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Then you got the wrong drink. Maybe you should give it back and get the drink you actually ordered, instead of stealing other people’s drinks.”

Customer: “Oh my God, get over yourself. Just buy yourself another drink.”

(When she raises her drink again, I make a point to smack it so drops out of her hand and falls on the floor.)

Me: “Oops. Seems like you don’t get that drink, either. Yours might still be on the counter, though.”

(She screamed at me for knocking the drink out of her hand, but I was already in such a rage that I walked out without grabbing my drink. My friend called me later about the incident and said that the customer had been kicked out when she threw both her drink and my replacement drink at the barista. I got a card for five free butterbeer frappes from the owner of the place when I called her to apologize for my actions. She said she’d have done the same thing. I did get stuck with mopping the floors as a way of making up for my actions, though.)

When The Cloud Evaporated

, , , , , | Learning | September 13, 2017

I’m a teacher. Our school has a cloud that holds all of our lesson plans, grades, everything. We are required to use it, and can even get in trouble if we don’t. I keep resources on my home computer. The finished product gets uploaded to the cloud. I’m not technically supposed to do this, but I have had these since before I worked here, and they’re too messy to sort.

My first year at this school was okay. I didn’t have the problem I had with another school- kids being forced to take my class instead of the one they wanted- so, most of my classes actually wanted to learn! My boss was okay, too.

Two weeks before the next new school year, I looked online, and everything had been wiped. I received an email saying that the grades and other personal data had been wiped for privacy reasons, but they wiped my lesson plans, too! This had to be a mistake. I called my principal.

He told me, “We have new standards for teaching every year, so you wouldn’t even be able to use them! It’s easier to wipe them all so teachers don’t have to go through a revision process when they submit old plans.”

I was stunned. First of all, plans can be modified, and it’s easier to modify than to create an entirely new thing from scratch. Secondly, TWO WEEKS?! Two weeks to plan an entire year? Thirdly, I was no longer ashamed of my secret resource stash (which would have been deleted, too)!

After somewhat of a breakdown, I picked through the mess of resources and cobbled together the first semester. At the first teacher’s meeting, I was the only one who had gotten that far.

“Pretty” Obvious Why He Was Reported

, , , , , | Working | September 11, 2017

(I’m the only one in the drive through at a pretty deserted fast food place. When I pull up to the window, the only employee I can see is the cashier taking my payment. I am a non-confrontational person by nature.)

Cashier: “I’d tell you that you’re pretty, but two people have already called in to report me for sexual harassment, so I can’t.”

Me: *flabbergasted* “…um, people suck, I guess? Thanks anyway?”

Cashier: “Yeah, it’s lame. Wanna hear some excellent jokes?”

Me: *trying to look behind him for any sign of my dinner* “Uh, sure?”

(The cashier tells me several puns without moving to check on my food. Several minutes later, an employee I hadn’t seen brings a bag to the cashier, who is still telling jokes.)

Cashier: “Oh, here is your food. Have a great night!”

(I checked my food when I got home a few minutes later, and it was cold. I think I know why that particular restaurant wasn’t busy at peak dinner hours.)

Having A Grande Old Time

, , , , | Right | September 11, 2017

Me: “Thank you for choosing your local [coffee shop]. What can I get started for you?”

Customer: *yelling* A grande vanilla latte!”

Me: “Okay, a grande van—”

Customer: *angrily* “I’m not done! I want that absolutely no foam, and with whipped cream!”

Me: “All righty, a gran—”

Customer: “I am not done! It has to have three honeys in it, with cinnamon and nutmeg!”

Me: “Would you like that sprinkled on top, or steamed into the milk?”

Customer: “On top! Steamed in is disgusting!”

Me: “You got it. A grande vanilla latte, with three honeys—”

Customer: *condescendingly* “I said, NO FOAM!”

Me: “Ma’am, I am repeating your entire drink order back to you to ensure that it is correct, and I was not finished. You have ordered a grande vanilla latte, with three honeys, no foam, with whipped cream, and cinnamon and nutmeg on top. Is that correct?”

Customer: “Yes!”

Me: “Perfect. Is there anything else I can get you?”

Customer: “A venti peach citrus infusion with no ice!”

Me: “Did you want—”

Customer: “Make sure there’s no ice! I’m not drinking it now!”

Me: “Did you want that sweet, or unsweet?”

Customer: “Sweet! It’s not worth drinking if it isn’t!”

Me: “Absolutely. Is there anything else I can get for you tonight?”

Customer: “No!”

Me: “Fantastic, we’ll see you at the window with your total.”

Customer: “Repeat my drinks again!” *haughtily* “I don’t think you got them right!”

Me: “It’ll be [total], around the corner!”

(She keeps demanding her drinks repeated, but my baristas and I ignore her. Finally, she pulls up to the window.)

Customer: “You need to remake my drinks! You wouldn’t repeat them, and you have them wrong!”

Me: “I have a grande vanilla latte, three honeys, absolutely no foam, with whip, cinnamon and nutmeg sprinkled on top, and a venti peach citrus infusion, sweetened, but with no ice, because you aren’t drinking it now. Are these the correct drinks?”

Customer: “That’s what I ordered, isn’t it?”

Me: “Then it will be [total].”

(She grumbles, pays, and receives her drinks.)

Customer: “This can’t be mine! There are no stickers!”

Me: “I made them as you ordered them, ma’am, before the stickers were printed. I hope you enjoy your drinks, and have a lovely evening.”

Customer: “I want to speak to your manager! You have been rude, and you made my drinks wrong!”

Me: *smiling sweetly, as my patience has finally paid off* “Ma’am, I AM the manager.”

(She goes completely white, and speeds away. Five minutes later, I get handed the phone by one of my baristas.)

Me: “This is [Name], how may I help you?”

Familiar Voice: “You’re the manager?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am?”

Customer: “You have a horrific barista in your drive through, claiming to be you! She was so rude! She kept interrupting, and she made my drinks wrong, and I want a refund and an apology!”

Me: “Did you have the grande vanilla latte, with three honeys, absolutely no foam, with whipped cream, cinnamon and nutmeg on top, with a venti peach citrus, sweetened, with no ice, because you aren’t drinking it now?”

Customer: *somehow still oblivious* “Yes! So, she told you about me! I want her fired for gossiping about customers!”

Me: “Actually, ma’am, that was me in the drive through, and I am the one who made your drinks to your exact specifications.”

Customer: “I asked for the manager, not the rude b**** in the drive through!”

Me: “Ma’am, that ‘rude b****’ is still me, and I am still the manager. Given that you have now escalated to verbal abuse, I will be putting in a report to corporate, and I am terminating this call.”

Customer: *starts screaming unintelligibly*

Me: *click*

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