Unfiltered Story #101121

, , , | Unfiltered | December 5, 2017

(I am 13 and in a car accident with my grandmother and sister. I get horrendous back pain and whip lash after a man decides it is a great idea to open his car door onto the road. I can’t bend down, and eventually my mum takes me to the local walk-in health centre. We wait for over an hour to see someone and eventually we are taken through to see the nurse. She is a young girl but seems to know what she is doing so when she asks me to take an unwind test, I don’t know any better and provide one for her. A few minutes later she comes back into the room and speaks to my mum.)

Nurse: “Well she isn’t pregnant.”

(I just stare at her for a moment, trying to understand what she is saying. I am a 13-year-old girl and don’t honestly know much about sex, never mind being pregnant. My mum’s mouth gapes open for a few seconds flapping like a fish.)

Mum: “What! I know she’s not pregnant. She was in a car crash and is suffering from pain in her back.”

(The nurse suddenly comes over in realisation of what she has said.)

Nurse: “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise how old she was”

Mum: “What do you mean you didn’t realise? She’s 13 years old; she’s not a f****** tramp. Oh my god, I can’t believe you just came to that conclusion with her back pain; I even explained to you what the problem was and you still assumed a young smart girl like her would be so f****** stupid?!”

(I shrank away as my mums voice rose over the sound of the curtains, the nurse practically cowaring in the corner and before long my mum was demanding to see another nurse. I will never forget the look of horror on that woman’s face, i’m 25 now and pretty sure i’m still not pregnant. Back pain is gone though.)

Unfiltered Story #101119

, , | Unfiltered | December 5, 2017

I am working on the retail stand when a customer approaches me to order.

Me: “hi, what would you like?”

Customer: “have you got any hotdogs?”

(The hotdog warmer is right behind me so I move out of the way. Several hotdogs are clearly visible)

Me: “yes, how many would you like?”

Customer: “one large one small”

Me: “I’m afraid we only have one size, just the ones you see here”

Customer stares blankly at me

Me: “so is that just two hotdogs for you?”

Customer “I want a large hotdog”

Me: “I’m sorry but these are the only ones we have, they just come in the one size”

Customer continues to stare blankly at me for several uncomfortable seconds until eventually…

Customer: “well, can you make one large?”

Me: “…”

(Sadly I don’t have magical hotdog-expanding powers)

Unfiltered Story #101117

, , | Unfiltered | December 5, 2017

*At the movie theatre where I work, we are very strict on the age ratings for films; if we are caught letting an underage person in to watch a film that is too old for them, we would get shut down and fined. Most guests dislike this policy, but we’re encouraged to stand firm.*

Guest: Hi, I’m picking up some tickets for Spy.

*This movie is a 15 certificate, and to pick up tickets you need a the payment card, the reservation number or some form of ID*

Me: Sure, do you have the card you paid with?

Guest: No.

Me: Okay, what about the e-mail with the reservation number?

Guest: No.

Me: …Okay, do you have some form of ID? That matches the name used to book the tickets?

Guest: My daughter booked them, I have her passport.

Me: *figuring no-one steals a passport just for movie tickets* Okay!

*I start looking up the reservation with the name. Then I look at the passport in front of me*

Me: Excuse me, how old is your daughter?

Guest: Uh… fifteen!

Me: *looking at her passport*

Guest: Well, she’s fifteen next week.

Me: …Her passport says she is 15 next January. We can’t allow her to see this film, but we will refund the tickets and you can see something else?

Guest: *irritated* Fine!

*I call down my supervisor and the guest says she needs to talk to her daughter, who was meeting her there. She has the tickets in her hand, ready to be refunded by my supervisor*

*After twenty minutes, we can’t find her anywhere. I’ve served other guests, and my supervisor says he saw some guests go in rather quickly to the screens. I decide to go and check the screen where, lo and behold, the guest is sat, ready to watch the 15 Certificate film, with her mother*

Me: Excuse me, were you the guest who was waiting for a refund?

Guest: Uh…

Me: Are you [name on passport]?

Daughter: Yes?

Me: You can’t be in here. You’re not old enough.

*They threw a fit, and eventually slunk out when I told them – repeatedly – it was against the law. EVERYONE in the theatre was staring, and they were very embarrassed. I’ve worked there for a year and no-one over the age of about 12 has ever actually snuck into a screen before!*

The Only Thing You’re Washing Is Yourself Of This Job

, , , , , | Working | December 4, 2017

(I’m between jobs and doing temporary placements washing dishes to keep up. I’m doing a three-day job in my least favorite kitchen, which has by far the heaviest workload, despite servicing a canteen that’s open two hours a day, at an office in the middle of nowhere. Net result is that 90% of the food gets thrown away. On the third day, I get there, and I find the manager looking angry.)

Manager: “Where have you been?”

Me: “I’m due in at 10:00. It’s 9:50.”

Manager: “The others haven’t turned up. You should have coordinated and arranged to come in if they couldn’t make it!”

Me: “I… don’t know them outside work. If you needed me in earlier, you should have phoned me.”

Manager: “Well, you’d better sort this out now. We’ve had no one working pot wash all morning.”

(He shows me a station where no less than six trolleys are piled high with equipment.)

Me: “Wasn’t there anyone you could have assigned to it?”

(There are about 15 cooks working in this canteen.)

Manager: “I couldn’t spare anyone. Now get on with it!”

(I try my best, but things are piling up faster than I can wash them. After half an hour…)

Manager: “This pile’s bigger than it was before!”

Me: “I’m doing my best. This station is supposed to be run by three people.”

Manager: “Then pick up the pace. We need all this stuff in the next ten minutes!”

Me: “Or what? I’m not an expert, but I’ve seen [Big Restaurant] manage a whole day with half of what you’ve cooked so far. You’re cooking one meal, you’ve been cooking it since lunchtime yesterday, and there’s more food piled up than anywhere else I’ve worked. What do you think is going to happen if you have to wait ten minutes?”

(To my surprise, he can’t respond, but continues to shout at me. Fortunately, I get a call from a company I applied to inviting me to an interview. My contract allows me to use my phone, and I know they’ll offer the interview to someone else if I ask them to, so I find some jobs to do one-handed as I talk.)

Manager: “You need to turn that off!”

Me: *mouthing* “I need to take this.”

(He follows me round while I try to ignore him.)

Manager: “If you want to talk to your friends, I can send you home to do it!”

Me: *covers the speaker for a second* “Do it, then!”

(I dropped the tray I was carrying and left.)

When The Schools Are Expected To Parent

, , , , | Learning | December 4, 2017

(I work in the reception of a school. We are just about to leave when the phone rings. Instead of letting it ring out, I decide to answer it. Note: At the beginning of the call, there is an automated message saying all calls are recorded.)

Me: “[School], how may I help you?”

Mother: “My daughter has told me she was in a fight with another boy at school, and that no one there did anything to stop it.”

Me: “I see. If you could give me the name of your daughter, and the time it occurred?”

Mother: “[Daughter], and literally just now!”

Me: “Now?” *looking at the clock which says 17:15* “And this happened at school?”

Mother: “No, right outside my house. I watched it from the window.”

Me: “Well, I’m not quite sure what you want me to do.”

Mother: “I want you to punish the boy!”

Me: “With all due respect, Miss [Mother], your daughter had this altercation outside of school hours, and outside school property. We have no control over the children at this time, and have no authority to reprimand them.”

Mother: “That’s ridiculous! I’m writing a letter to the school board!” *hangs up*

(Several weeks later, we heard about the letter, and it differed greatly from her account on the phone. The recording was sent to the board, and yesterday I was asked to remove her daughter from the roster. I don’t know if she was excluded or her mother decided to pull her out of school, but I hope she has a better time wherever she ends up.)