, , , , , | Learning | November 22, 2019

(I’m taking a finance class. We’re preparing for our midterm, which involves a lot of formulas. The professor is talking to us right before the end of class.)

Professor #1: “Oh! One more thing. You are allowed to use whatever information you can fit on a 3×5 notecard. Class dismissed. See you Thursday. Be ready!”

(I get an idea on Wednesday night. I type up all the relevant formulas in a Word document, shrink the font so that it will fit on the notecard, print it out, cut out the 3×5 square, and tape it to the notecard. The next day, the professor does a card check. When he gets to me…)

Professor #1: *inspects my card* “You typed this? Nice job! I’m gonna keep this in mind as a tip for future students.”

(Fast forward to the next semester. I’m in a Strategic Management class, which is my final course before I graduate. We are a couple of days out from our final exam.)

Professor #2: “Remember, guys, you can use one 3×5 notecard on your exam. Whatever you can fit, you can use. I’ll even let you use the front and back.”

(Everyone groans, as there’s a lot of vocabulary involved, and there’s no way that we can possibly fit everything on there, even if we use the back.)

Professor #2: “Do your best. Now, get outta here. Exam Wednesday. Last thing between most of you and graduation!”

(I remember what I did for my finance class and get to work typing definitions and principles. It takes some extra creativity, but I manage to shrink the text to make it small yet readable, and get about 75% of the content on the study guide onto the notecard. Fast forward to Wednesday. The professor walks in.)

Professor #2: “All right, people! Card check. Bring ‘em out!”

(He gets to me. He picks up my card and inspects it with a raised eyebrow.)

Professor #2: “You’ve got most of the study guide on here. How did you do that?”

Me: “Typed it.”

(He turns it upside down and squints at it.)

Professor #2: “Can you even read this?”

Me: “Yes.”

(He starts laughing.)

Professor #2: “[My Name], you’re a smart-a**.”

(I passed my exam with 90%.)

Unfiltered Story #178334

, , | Unfiltered | November 22, 2019

(I’m a cashier at a local supermarket, my current customer is a tall, buff white man. asa finish ringing up his order I ask is he has a store discount card.)

Me: Do you have a [Store Card]?

Customer: Yes I do. (He is handing me his card but then pulls back at the last moment.)


(I have absolutely no acne whatsoever and can’t think of anything that could give him the impression that I have herpes)

Me: Excuse me?

Customer: YOU HAVE HERPES! YOU CAMT ROICH MY [Store Card]! (He scans his card himself)

(I finalize his order as the customer is ranting about herpes, completely wide eyed and staring directly into my eyes, pausing every now and then to stare at me. My bagger who is trying to comtain his laughter)

Me: Have a nice day!

Customer: (Walks away still mumbling something about herpes)

Bagger: (Breaks into laughter)

Me: What the f***.

We Need To Give You Tips On How To Tip

, , , , | Right | November 22, 2019

(I am visiting my family in the USA. I normally live in a country that doesn’t tip, so I don’t really understand how tipping culture works. My mother takes me out to lunch while we’re sightseeing. Our waitress is absolutely wonderful and extremely helpful, even going as far as giving us information about local attractions and the weather forecast. At the end of the meal, we receive the bill. It’s for 35 dollars.)

Mother: *hands me 10 dollars, a dime, and her credit card* “[My Name], could you put this into the bill?”

(For whatever reason, I put the 10 dollar bill and the credit card inside the bill, but place the dime on top of the bill.)

Waitress: “Hi, guys.” *brings us refills for our drinks* “Need anything else?”

Mother: “No, we’re fine for now. Thank you, though!”

(The waitress notices the bill and her eyes suddenly bulge in total shock. However, she quickly composes herself and then politely excuses herself from our table.)

Me: “Wait, did she think that the dime was our tip?”

Mother: *notices the dime sitting on top of the bill* “Oh, no. That’s probably what happened, but once she opens the bill, it’ll be okay.”

(Still, I feel guilty, so I pull out my own wallet and add a 10-dollar bill to the inside of the bill. However, I assume that the space on the receipt that says “tip” is where we write the total amount of the tip we’re giving in cash, so I write $20.10 there. In reality, this is actually for tips given through CREDIT CARDS. After we leave the restaurant, I mention writing the tip total on the receipt to my mother.)

Mother: “That actually means that we just gave her a tip of $40.20.”

Me: “Oh… crap.”

Mother: “And you owe me $20 dollars. I’m not paying that much for a tip!”

Me: *embarrassed, I take a 20-dollar bill out of my wallet and hand it to her* “I suppose that’s fair. My bad…”

(This was about a year ago, but I still feel terrible for making the waitress think we were tipping her a dime after the outstanding service she gave us. I hope that she enjoyed the big surprise thanks to my ignorance, though!)

Unfiltered Story #178330

, , | Unfiltered | November 22, 2019

I am a cashier at a local grocery store. I am scanning items too fast for my bagger to handle. My bagger in a mad and almost yelling voice said ” slow down now. Your going too fast Then the customer, an 80 something year old man, piped up and said “that’s why none of the girls like him” and walked away crying laughing

It’s Back To Fool Season

, , , , | Right | November 22, 2019

(I work at a large, internationally-known retail store that sells a lot of different things. The “Back to School” season just started and I’m stocking the section when this old lady brings in her grandson to look at folders.)

Customer: “Excuse me!”

Me: “Hello, how can I help you today?”

Customer: “These folders are too close together! I don’t know which ones are the cheapest!”

Me: “Well, the paper ones would be the cheapest for fifteen cents each, ma’am. They’re right here. What colors do you need?”

Customer: “Oh, whatever! Get a job!”

(I looked down at my work uniform, looked back up at her, and just walked away.)