It’s Getting Messianic Up In Here

| Related | October 15, 2013

(My four-year-old godson has no religious affiliation, nor do his parents. To my knowledge, he has never set foot in a church in his life.)

Godson: “What’s that shirt say?”

Me: “It says, ‘Jesus is your homeboy.'”

Godson: “Oh.” *thinks about that for a second* “Jesus is my brotha from a holy motha!”

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Giving Them A Spanish Inquisition

, | Right | October 9, 2013

(I’m a teenager, although I look younger. My father owns a small, English-run shop, and I work some shifts there if I want some extra cash. My father can’t speak a word of Spanish, although I can since I go to school in Spain. Two customers walk in, talking in Spanish.)

Customer #1: “I hate this shop! It’s stupid, and they don’t even speak Spanish.”

Customer #2: “I know, right? I only come in here so I can mentally mock everything.”

(I’ve been listening the whole time, but they’ve only just spotted me.)

Customer #1: “Look! They’ve hired some low-life kid to help them out. I swear that’s illegal; I’m going to report it because it will be funny.”

(I’ve been keeping quiet, but now I get angry. I twist around, facing the men, and start talking to them in Spanish.)

Me: “Okay, listen up: I’m a teenager, and my dad owns this shop. In case you haven’t noticed already, I do speak Spanish, and I’ve heard everything you just said. So if you hate this shop so much, why don’t you get out?”

(We never see them again, which my father appreciates, since they were always coming in without buying anything and he didn’t know how to say anything!)

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No Ram-ifications

| Right | October 4, 2013

(I work in the back of the thrift store, where everything is sorted and tested. A Hispanic family comes in the front of the store, carrying three very old laptops.)

Customer: “We bought these laptops from here, and would like to exchange them from something else.”

Manager #1: “I’ll take these back to the electronics guys, and make sure they work.”

(He takes them back to the guys, and relays the story. While I don’t work at the electronics testing station, my area is right next to it, so I can see clearly what they are testing. They sometimes call me over because I have a strong technical background.)

Tester: “I don’t ever remember seeing these laptops.”

Me: “Neither do I!”

Manager #1: “Hey, wait a minute. There is no sticker residue! Nor is there rubbing of where they should have been! Also, they didn’t come in with a receipt. Something’s fishy here.”

(While they have me quickly test the laptops, Manager #1 gets Manager #2, who is fluent in Spanish, but Caucasian.)

Manager #1: *in Spanish* “Hello! So, were you trying to exchange the laptops?”

Customer: *flustered* “Did I say ‘exchange?’ I meant ‘donate!'”

Manager #2: “Well, I’m glad we could sort out the miscommunication!”

(Two of the laptops don’t boot up because they don’t even have a hard drive. The one that does boot has a very small amount of RAM. The kicker? Even if, by some fluke, we had sold those laptops, they would have been thoroughly tested, and all three would have been sold as ‘for parts,’ meaning that the customer wouldn’t have been able to afford even one working laptop!)

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Sold A Game, Bought A Life-Lesson

, | Right | September 13, 2013

(I work in a store that sells and buys used games, consoles and computers. We require that everyone who sells us something shows an ID. A young customer comes to the store to sell PS3 games.)

Me: “Hey there. What have you got for us?”

Customer: “Some games.”

(He puts the games on the counter. I check them and we agree on the price.)

Me: “Okay, I’ll need your ID please.”

Customer: “What! No! Why?”

Me: “It’s store policy, and it really helps with cutting down the amount of people trying to sell us stolen items. I know it’s a bit of drag when selling just games, but we buy a lot of expensive electronics as well. There’s no way around it I’m afraid.”

Customer: “No one is required to carry around an ID in Finland! That is the law! We are free here.”

Me: “Sure, but I’m not required to buy these games from you either.”

Customer: “But I don’t have to have my ID with me. It’s the f***** law. Check it, you ignorant dumb-a**!”

Me: “What that law means is that you can’t get arrested for being without an ID, but there is still a whole bunch of stuff that you can’t do. You can’t get a loan from the bank, make a phone contract etc… I’m done arguing about this. Show me an ID, or I won’t buy these games. It’s as simple as that.”

Customer: “Fine! Whatever!”

(The customer throws his ID on the counter, fuming. We get the transaction done, and he goes to the shopping area to look at the games on sale. After awhile the alarm at the door goes off. I look up and see the same customer bolting from the store. A coworker starts to run after him. I stop him.)

Me: “Don’t bother. That guy just sold us some games.”

(My coworker laughs so hard he has to go to the office. I look up the customer’s info and call the number services to get his phone number. I call him and he answers.)

Customer: “Yeah?”

Me: “Hey, this is [me] from [store].”

(There is a long silence.)

Me: “Yeah, if you could just bring back the games you stole, that would be great.”

Customer: “I, uh…”

Me: “Otherwise we will be forced to contact the police. Come now and we can settle this.”

Customer: *sheepishly* “Okay. Don’t call the police, please.”

Me: “Be here in five minutes.”

(After about two minutes he comes running through the door. I take him to the office, and he gives me back the stolen game. I look at him closely and can see that he is really scared.)

Customer: “I’m so sorry! I’m not a thief. I just got pissed because of the whole ID argument, and wasn’t thinking straight. My dad is a lawyer, and I guess I thought I knew about this stuff. I was stupid and wrong. Please don’t call the police; I’m not a criminal.”

(I believe him, and actually feel kind of sorry for him. He is only 18 after all, and everyone makes mistakes.)

Me: “Okay, I believe you have learned a lesson. We forgive you, and the matter is settled.”

(He thanks me profusely and leaves. The next day he shows up to the store with some candy and pastries for the whole staff. Over the next months he has become a regular of the store. He is always very polite and nice and has even been seen arranging the games after other customers have messed up the shelves. He is a far cry from the arrogant brat that came to the store the first time. Everyone deserves a break.)

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Bagged Herself A Steal

| Right | August 21, 2013

(I’m a college freshman working in a thrift store. The most expensive item in the shop is $10. I am straightening up a rack when I watch a customer go into a dressing room, then emerge from the dressing room wearing a completely different outfit and make for the door. I stop her.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am! You realize you’re going to have to pay for that, right?”

Customer: “I know that! I’m not an idiot!”

(The customer turns around and walks over to a bookshelf, as if that’s where she’d been headed all along. I go back to the rack, but watch her out of the corner of my eye. She slowly begins making her way towards the door again.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. You still need to pay for that.”

Customer: “I did.”

Me: “Ma’am, I watched you. You went to the bookshelf and then tried to leave again.”

Customer: “You were SPYING on me?! I want to talk to your manager!”

(My manager, having heard the commotion, is already on his way over.)

Manager: “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

Customer: “Yes. This little girl was spying on me and accused me of trying to shoplift my own clothes!”

(I began to bristle and protest, but my manager shushes me and points to the customer’s pants. Or rather, to the price tag sticking out of the pocket. The woman looks down at it and then bolts for the door. I start after her, but my manager calls me back.)

Manager: “Ah, let her go. She’s only wearing about $6 worth of merchandise anyway.”

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