Bet You Dollars To Donuts They Will Complain

, , , , | | Working | May 19, 2019

(I work at a popular donut chain in this state in one of the very few without a drive-thru. Most of the stores close at eight, but have a drive-thru open until midnight or later. I get a phone call ten minutes before eight.)

Caller: “How late are you open until?”

Me: “Doors lock at eight.”

(The caller then promptly hangs up. As it’s getting close to closing, I start going through the counts and moving most of the racks and pots to the cleaning station. At eight, I go and lock the doors and shut off the lights. Thirty minutes later, as I’m bringing the leftover donuts to the dumpster, I almost get taken out by an SUV. The driver and passenger get out and run to the door. I take a picture of them, holding my watch up so the time can be seen, as well, because I’m pretty sure this is going to be a complaint.)

Driver: “Are you f****** kidding me?! That b**** said they were open! Why are the d*** doors locked?!”

Passenger: “This is an injustice! We’ll have her job with this one!”

(They haven’t noticed me at the dumpster, and they tear out of the parking lot. The next morning, the owner is in the store and pulls me into this office.)

Owner: “So, I heard you closed the store down early and laughed in a customer’s face while they were politely trying to ask you if they could just get a coffee and sandwich.”

Me: “That’s ridiculous.”

Owner: “The man said he called at five and asked if you were open, and they showed up at six and you’d locked the doors in his face.”

Me: “First of all, the only call I got was at 7:50, and the people didn’t show up until 8:30; they were making all sorts of noise and being all sorts of rude.”

Owner: “Do you have any proof of that? At this point it’s your word against his.”

(I pulled up the picture I took showing my watch and the customers. The owner shrugged and I went to start my shift, without an apology, and I left two weeks later because if he wasn’t going to have my back in that situation or admit a customer could have been wrong, I didn’t need that job.)

A Catalog Of Errors

, , , , | | Right | May 19, 2019

(I work in a call center that supports our product catalog. Normally, when customers call in looking for current pricing on an item, we like to put a record of the transaction on their account. If the customer is brand new to us, we like to get basic info from them so we can enter them into our system. Calls like this happen far too often:)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Business]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “I need to get pricing on one of your items.”

Me: “Okay. Can I get your account number, please?”

Caller: “I don’t have an account. This is my first time calling. I found you online.”

Me: “All right, can I get your business name and mailing address so I can get you set up in our system? It will just take a minute.”

Caller: “I am not going to give you that information. I don’t need you to start sending me a bunch of your garbage, or worse, sell it to someone else; I’ll be getting junk mail for the rest of my life.”

(Our company rules state if the customer starts getting agitated in a situation like this, we can give them the info they are looking for so they can go on with their day.)

Me: “Okay, sir, the price on this item is $[total].”

Caller: “Fine, and can you send me more info on this item?”

Me: “Would you like me to send you one of our catalogs? It has a lot of info on this specific product, as well as everything else we carry.”

Caller: “You guys have a catalog? Can you send me one?”

Me: *rolling eyes* “Yes, we can. Can I have your business name and mailing address, please?”

Disabled People Have To Stall Their Need To Pee

, , , , , | | Friendly | May 19, 2019

I’m at a center that celebrates Polynesian culture. Everything is awesome until I have to use the restroom. It’s a busy day and all eight stalls are full with a line out the door. It should be noted that I’m in a wheelchair and there is only one disabled stall.

Things are going pretty quickly and I’m almost at the front; only one person is ahead of me. The disabled stall opens up. The person in front takes it.

I sit there for five minutes, saying, while getting progressively louder, “You can go ahead of me. I can only use the disabled stall.” At least a dozen people skip me until finally — finally! — that lady emerges. She won’t look at me and just walks out of the bathroom without washing her hands.

It isn’t that I wanted to jump to the front of the line, but when you have seven other stalls and I only have one, can’t you please just take the next one?

The Weighting Room

, , , , , | | Healthy | May 19, 2019

I was taking in my two-week-old baby for her checkup. My husband and older son were with me since we had another errand to run before heading home. My clinic had recently moved to a bigger location a few blocks away from their old location and had new equipment recently unpacked.

I gently placed my baby, born 7 lbs and 12 oz, on the scale. She left the hospital weighing 7 lbs 6 oz, which is normal since their weight fluctuates after birth. The scale showed 7 lbs 3 oz. My husband and I were baffled, since the baby was practically breastfed every hour and if she wasn’t sleeping she was eating. She was also way heavier than at birth.

The doctor began setting me up for weigh-in appointments with a nurse, while I began to panic and doubt about my breastfeeding capabilities.

My husband is a “fixer.” He can’t help it and is constantly fixing things at home or improving them, so, of course, he began fiddling with the baby scale when the doctor briefly left the room which, in addition to my panicked state, started to annoy me. That’s when he pulled out two pieces of foam from under the scale that were clearly part of the packaging from when it was moved from the other clinic. The doctor came back and was stunned. We weighed the baby again and she was 8 lbs, 6 oz. The doctor had a stunned look in his eyes as he checked us out, and I can just imagine the panic as he thought back to how many babies had been weighed on a scale that hadn’t been properly set up.

Unfiltered Story #151084

, , , | | Unfiltered | May 19, 2019

(I am a female-to-male transgender individual. I am pre-transition and due to a combination of health issues and certain unwanted assets being too large to safely bind, I am unable to pass as male, though I do dress in a more masculine fashion.

Tonight is the release of the newest and last game in a very popular bat-themed superhero video game series. I have a copy for PS4 pre-ordered and have just arrived to join the queue of gamers waiting for the game to be released. In the past, the people closest to the door of the store are in the back of the line, so I go to stand there. There’s a group of guys of varying ages that are obviously together, and they begin staring at me with rather snotty looks on their faces. One guy in particular seems to be their leader.)

Him:  “Hey uh, I don’t mean to be rude. But uh, you’re in the wrong line.” (His tone was rude and confrontational despite his choice of words.)

Me: “Is this the line for Arkham Knight?”

Friends #1 & #2: *scoffs* Yeah!

Me: “Then I’m not in the wrong line.”

(They all exchange annoyed expressions and looks of disbelief, as though I had a lot of nerve standing in that line.)

Leader: “You getting it for your boyfriend or something?”

Me: “My husband isn’t a big fan of the Arkham games.”

(They look at me incredulously.)

Leader: “You play the Arkham games?”

Me: “Yep. I love Batman.”

(They keep exchanging looks, giving me looks, and muttering sexist things.)

Leader: “Yeah, well, this is the front of the line. Get in the back of the line.”

Me: *Shrug* “Alright.”

(I go to ask a store employee who is checking people’s receipts where the back of the line is, because I most certainly don’t want to cut in front of anyone else.)

Me: “Excuse me, where’s the back of the line? Those gentlemen over there *I point to them* insisted that was the front of the line.”

Female Employee: “*Follows my finger and rolls her eyes and sighs in disgust* It doesn’t matter where the “front” of the line is. Everyone will have to line up outside soon.”

Me: “*Smile apologetically to her* Alright. Thank you.”

(Soon the line moves outside and the group of guys are confronting people that are at the front of the newly formed line.)

Leader: “Make room, we were here first!”

Guy: “I’ve been standing here for a few minutes.”

Leader: “We were at the front of the line!”

Female Employee: “Either get behind them, go to the back of the line, or come get your game tomorrow!”

Leader: “We were at the front of the line! *Angrily stomps behind the people at the front of the line*”

(When it comes time to go inside and get my game, those guys are walking out as I’m walking inside, and they once again shoot me a plethora of dirty looks.

I really love gaming, but I absolutely hate the sexism within the gaming community.)

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