Smells Like Teenage Dispirit

, , , , , , | Right | December 12, 2017

(I am a customer in a supermarket. There’s a group of five obnoxious teenagers — three girls and two boys — with a middle-aged woman at the checkout. They are being rowdy, and while staying somewhat close to the woman, they’re wandering around the aisle that connects all the checkouts, getting in people’s way, and shooting superior glares and smirks at the people they’re blocking. Most other customers aren’t even TRYING to get past the teenagers, and instead, are going all the way down an aisle and coming up another aisle that takes them closer to a checkout that’s away from the teenagers. The woman the teenagers are with isn’t scolding them, but she looks as though she’s been trying to make them behave but finally decided to stop wasting her breath. She looks very annoyed and VERY embarrassed by their behavior. I place my items on the conveyor belt, then bend down to place my hand-basket in the stack under the overhang of the conveyor belt. Someone had dropped a basket on the floor earlier on, so while I’m putting my basket away, I pick up the other basket, upright it, fold the handles down, then add it to the stack of baskets, as well. One of the teenage girls addresses me.)

Teenage Girl: “Why’d you do that?”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Teenage Girl: “Why’d you put it away? It wasn’t your basket.”

Me: “Because I did?”

Teenage Girl: “But why?”

Me: “Because it didn’t take any effort and it was the right thing to do.”

Mother: *loudly*That is how I raised you to be! I don’t know what the f*** happened!” *she waves her hands in exasperation*

Cashiers: *giggling*

(All of the teenagers suddenly looked mortified, shut up, stopped meandering into other people’s way, and stood calmly around the woman they were with.)

We Only Have Chicken Strippers

, , , , | Right | December 11, 2017

(I am working as a front desk attendant when someone calls. Seconds after answering I recognize it as a prank call.)

Me: “Hello, thank you for calling [Restaurant]. My name is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Hi, I heard somewhere that after you guys close, there is a burlesque show. Is that true?”

Me: *caught off guard* “Uh… No. Sorry.”

Caller: “Really? Well, there went my weekend.”

Me: “Again, sorry for ruining your weekend.”

Caller: “Man, I love strippers. I could watch them all day and night.”

Me: “Well, that sounds like an expensive habit. You have a good night.”

(I hung up and my coworker standing next to me just died laughing.)

Please Let The Door Hit You On The Way Out

, , , , , , | Right | December 10, 2017

(I’m a cashier. I am watching over the self-checks when one of them decides to act up while saying, “Please take your change,” to a customer. Thankfully, it dispenses the change and receipt like it should, but the customer is laughing.)

Self-Check Machine: “Please Ta-Please Ta-Please Ta-Please Ta-“

Me: “Sorry, but at least it gave you your change and receipt.”

Customer #1: *chuckling* “It’s all right. Besides, these things are more polite than some of the people in here.”

(I laugh as well while I open the machine top cover to reset it.)

Me: “That’s tru—”

(Just then, I hear another customer.)

Customer #2: “How much is this?!”

Me: “I’ll tell you in just a second.”

Customer #2:No! I asked you now! How much is this f****** thing?!”

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t tell you right this second. Let me get this closed.”

(As I’m standing back up fully and beginning to pull my hand back, [Customer #2] pushes down on the cover, SLAMMING my fingers in between it and the machine. For those who don’t know how that feels, it’s about the same as a car door, particularly as hard as she slammed it.)

Me: *flinging open the cover, biting my lips* “Mmmmmpphhh!”

(Seeing me open up the machine cover again, [Customer #2] huffs.)

Customer #2: “I f****** closed it for you; now you’re reopening it. Fine! I can take a f****** hint, but you will hear from your manager!”

(As she leaves, I close the machine again and head to the watch station, clenching my fingers and using a damp rag to ease the pain. However, I have no idea that [Customer #1] has seen everything until he speaks up.)

Customer #1: “You know what? I’m going to stay here. If a manager does come, I’ll let them know what happened.”

(Sure enough, one of my supervisors approaches, with [Customer #2], while I’m still massaging my fingers.)

Supervisor: “Did you ignore this customer?”

Me: “I was fixing a machine and I told her to wait a moment.”

([Customer #2] opens her mouth to speak but [Customer #1] beats her to it.)

Customer #1: “The machine I was at had frozen up, and he was trying to restart it when she came up asking for price while he still had his head inside of the top part. He politely told her it’d be a moment, and she proceeded to demand it be done at that moment. However, as he was getting ready to close the machine, she slammed the machine down on his fingers.”

(I held out my slightly red fingers to illustrate the point only to notice [Customer #2] turning red.)

Customer #1: “He kept it to himself about how bad it hurt while reopening the cover. That’s when she left.”

Supervisor: *looking at my fingers and then at [Customer #2] pointedly* “What happened?”

Customer #2: “Uh… Um…” *turns red and leaves in a hurry without anything*

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Mixing With A Bad Crowd

, , , | Right | December 8, 2017

(I’ve recently moved to a small town in Texas and I’ve started working at a country club that also has a bar. I don’t work in the bar, but I know the general workings of it since the whole place is so small. One afternoon the regular bartender can’t find anyone to cover the bar for her so she asks me to work. She tells me the basics and everything seems good. The problem is that she has lived in this town her whole life and has worked here for almost 20 years, and therefore knows everyone’s names and families, and exactly what everyone drinks. This becomes a problem, because I don’t.)

Me: “Hello, sir. What can I get you?”

Customer #1: “Oh, I’ll just have my usual.”

Me: “All right, and what would that be?”

Customer #1: *sigh* “My usual. Are you deaf, girl?”

Me: “No, sir, I just haven’t learned everyone’s drinks yet. I’m sorry.”

Customer #2: *sitting next to him* “He always gets [Drink].”

(I go to make the drink and I grab the glass I was told to use for that type of drink.)

Customer #1: “No, no, no! That’s the wrong glass! I always have the other glass!”

(I grab the other glass, fill it with ice, and go to put the liquor in first.)

Customer #1: “No! The soda always goes in first!”

(It really doesn’t make any difference, but I put in the soda anyway and grab the liquor again.)

Customer #1: “I hate that liquor; I always drink [Other Liquor]! And don’t forget my lime and olives!”

(At this point, it’s not even the same drink that he ordered, and I’ve never seen limes or olives in this type of drink, but I finish the drink and hand it to him.)

Customer #1: “Finally! That took way too long; they should fire you! [Bartender] always has it ready when I walk in. Where is [Bartender]?”

Me: “She has the day off today; it’s her granddaughter’s birthday.”

Customer #1: “Well, I don’t give a d***! She should be here so I don’t have to wait all day for a drink!”

(The bartender apologized the next day for forgetting to warn me about him and said that he was notorious for being difficult and everyone just kind of ignores him.)

Performing An Amazing Feet

, , , , | Learning | December 8, 2017

(I teach swimming lessons. Today I’m one-on-one with a girl who is about eight years old. I am currently introducing her the dolphin kick — kicking with both feet together — when she suddenly switches back to the kick she is used to, mid-lap.)

Me: “That looked great at the start, but how come you stopped the dolphin kick in the middle there?”

Student: *shrugs*

Me: “When we’re doing dolphin kick or breaststroke or whatever, you have to do it all the way through.”

Student: *with complete seriousness* “My feet live their own life!”

Me: *after busting out in laughter* “Your brain gives the orders, hun! Make them respect the chain of command!”

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