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Their Reputation With The Hotel Is Burned

, , , , | Right | April 15, 2020

I work as a night auditor at a hotel. One night, a guest calls down from their room, complaining that the smoke alarm is going off in the room next to them. I go up to investigate and can hear the smoke alarm all the way down the hall. When I get there, I knock on the door.

The guest opens the door, revealing that the entire room is filled with smoke. I ask what’s going on and the guest casually responds, “I’m cooking,” apparently not noticing or caring that her cooking has completely burned and she is sitting in the middle of a huge cloud of smoke. From the glimpse of the charcoal that I see on the stove, it looks like one of the things she was cooking was ravioli.

How one manages to burn ravioli, I don’t know.

After silencing the smoke alarm, I tell the guest that we are going to have to move her to a new room. She asks — again, completely nonchalantly — “Why? Is there something wrong with this one?” In the most un-sarcastic voice I can muster, I respond that yes, the fact that the room is filled with smoke counts as “something wrong.”

I don’t know whether she is “out of it” somehow or just playing dumb in order to avoid getting in trouble, but either way it is pretty disturbing that she was willing to sit around breathing in smoke.

The best part, though, is what my manager tells me when he comes in to help deal with the situation. The room where this incident happened is the exact same room where, a few months ago, a guest hung their clothes on one of the sprinkler heads, causing it to break and setting off the sprinklers in half the hotel.

I suggest to my manager that we get rid of that room and turn it into a closet. He laughs and agrees.

Coworker’s Feeling A Little Sheepish

, , , , | Working | April 15, 2020

(I’m talking with a coworker about a restaurant she went to with her family last night.)

Coworker: “It was really good. They had lamb.”

Me: “Eww! Poor little lamb!”

Coworker: “Well, it’s not like it was a baby one or anything!”

Me: *blinks* “But a lamb is a baby, [Coworker]. A baby sheep.”

Coworker: “What? No, I’m sure it was a full-grown lamb. They wouldn’t eat a baby one.”

Me: “All lambs are baby sheep, [Coworker]. If it’s a full-grown one, it’s a sheep. Lambs are, by definition, sheep who are under a year old.”

Coworker: “Well… I didn’t eat any.” *nervous laugh*

Me: “It’s okay if you did, [Coworker]. Just because I don’t eat meat, it doesn’t mean you can’t.”

Coworker: “I’m sure lambs aren’t babies, though. They wouldn’t eat a baby.” *walks off muttering about eating babies*

(We both grew up in the same general area, an area that is known for farming and lots of farm animals. I kind of thought everyone knew that a lamb was a baby sheep, though, especially people around our area, where there are sheep and lambs like every mile.)

Trash Of The Earth… AKA Customers

, , , | Right | April 15, 2020

I’m just leaving the front desk to do cleaning work elsewhere when a little old lady with a Southern accent calls me over. She has just checked out and all of her groceries are bagged up in plastic bags.

Customer: “Excuse me, but do you take this kind of bag for recycling?”

She pulls out a plastic bag from the bottom of her cart. It is full of reusable bags. You know, the kind you’re supposed to use instead of single-use plastic bags.

Me: *Confused* “I honestly don’t… know.”

Customer: “Well, these have been piling up around the house and I figured I’d bring them here and ask.”

Me: *Absolutely baffled* “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone ask if we take back reusable bags.”

Customer: “Oh, well. I’ll take them back home and throw them in the trash.”

Me: “…”


This story is part of our Recycling roundup!

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Retail Has That Effect On People

, , , , , | Working | April 15, 2020

(It’s truck day, so we’re unpacking freight and putting it away. I’ve just brought something to the stockroom, where my coworker is unpacking her freight. She yells for me as I walk away.)

Me: “Yeah?”

Coworker: “If you see anybody come back here with a box for me, I want you to punch them in the throat.” 

(Getting boxes of your stuff after you think you’re done sorting can be annoying, but you never know when others are finished sorting through their own boxes. She’s joking, but I play along.)

Me: “Okay!” *laughing* “Yeah, you know how violent of a person I am.”

(We both start laughing, and another coworker asks what we’re laughing about. We explain, and she starts laughing, too. I go out to my area to begin sorting through my freight. Later:)

Me: *walking into stockroom with a box* “[Coworker]!”

Coworker: “What?”

Me: “I think I need to punch myself.”

(My coworker laughs again and we talk about how we usually each get at least one box of each other’s freight. Even later:)

Co-Manager: *walking past* “Did you punch yourself?”

Me: “I told [Coworker] I should!”

(Some days are rough, but my coworkers make things fun.)

He Is Broke But The Alarms Are Not

, , , , | Right | April 15, 2020

I am working part-time as a cashier to make extra money, and we were all trained to stop potential theft whenever we can without being accusatory, to risk escalating the situation. I am very good at this and even win an award one year for stopping the most potential theft before it left the store.

One day, it’s very slow, I’m the only cashier on a register, and I get a call from another department about a customer. They say he’s wearing a sweatshirt with one of those front pockets, which is stuffed with merchandise they watched him stash in there, and is heading towards the registers with a basket full of more merchandise. 

He doesn’t even stop; he just walks right past my register and into the vestibule. The alarms go off and he stops, so I call out to him:

Me: “Sir, sorry, the wheeled baskets all have sensors to keep them from being taken outside of the store. If you’ll come back in, I’ll put your purchases in a bag.”

Customer: “Thanks.”

The customer comes back in with one hand pulling the basket and one still in his bulging sweatshirt pocket. I bag the stuff in the cart.

Me: “May I see your receipt real quick?”

Customer: “I don’t have one.”

He abandons everything that was in the basket and tries to walk out again, and the merchandise he’s got in his pocket sets off the alarms again. I see that our Loss Prevention officer is on the way over.

Me: “Sir, if you’ll step back inside, my manager needs to speak with you.”

Customer: “I’m so sorry; I’m just really broke right now!”

He flashed a big, apologetic grin and ran out the door.