(One of my classmates, [Student #1], is always loud and disruptive or just doesn’t listen. As a result, one of my teachers dislikes him and ends up yelling at him a lot. One day our class is getting a little loud.)
Teacher: “[Student #1], shut up!”
Us: “[Student #1] isn’t here today.”
(I’m working returns at a popular electronics store. An older lady comes into line and I go to help her.)
Me: “What’s going on with it?”
Customer: “Well, this mouse—” *pulls out a mouse* “—didn’t come with that… end that goes in the computer… The, uh… USP… USB!”
(I look over the wireless mouse and note that the batteries are still in the plastic. As the customer looks for her receipt, I open the battery compartment and pull out the wireless dongle.)
Me: “Ma’am?”
(The customer stops dead and turns dark.)
Customer: “Oh, darn, now you just made me feel silly. It didn’t show that in the booklet, though!”
(I take the booklet and show here where it says to open the battery compartment and remove the wireless dongle.)
Customer: “And now you made me feel dumb… Well, thanks, hun. Have a nice day.”
(She left and I kept grinning about that one for a while.)
I work part-time for parking services customer service at a mid-sized university. We get a huge number of customers who think if they yell loud enough, someone will take their ticket away and not make them pay. Because of this, our appeals are entirely online, with the appeals committee kept well away from direct customer contact. I dislike that there is no backup for construction workers without easy access to a computer, or the elderly visiting professors who aren’t comfortable with being online.
After a particularly nasty week, I see a man walking in with a citation easily visible in his hand. I brace myself for more yelling. Instead, he politely asks if there is a way not to pay. I look at the ticket. He had a temporary pass that had fallen out of his window. Happy to get a polite customer for a change, I spend over ten minutes walking him through the appeal on his phone. I confirm the appeal has gone through, and let him know there should be a response in about a week.
As he leaves, my senior coworker comes around the corner and scolds me for taking so long with one customer. Only then does she look around at the deserted lobby and quiet phones. Shaking her head, she returns to her other tasks.
I get the whole goal of short wait times, but really we should be able to help when there is time.
(I’m a regular at a coffee shop where I usually stop in after work to grab a drink and relax a little before heading home. Another regular who comes in slightly less often is a guy who slurps. A lot. Instead of waiting for his drink to cool down, he’ll open it up piping hot, slurp loudly off the rim, and after each sip make a loud exhale like he’s letting the heat out. He’ll do that until he finishes the whole drink, without pause. I’ve learned to always bring earphones and music. One evening he’s in there, slurping away, when a woman comes in and joins him at his table. They make small talk for a couple of minutes, and it’s pretty quiet in the shop so it’s not hard to hear them. Yes, I turn my music off and eavesdrop.)
Woman: “Hey, so…” *big sigh* “It’s been really nice getting to know you, and you’ve been really great, but I don’t think we should date anymore.”
Slurper: “Whoa, what? Why? What happened?”
Woman: “Well… honestly… I’ve found a behavior of yours that I just can’t appreciate or tolerate. In any way.”
Slurper: “I… Like what?”
Woman: *pause* “You slurp anything hot. Like your drink right now.”
Slurper: *after a long pause, chuckles* “Come on. You can’t be serious.”
Woman: “I am serious. I haven’t brought it up until now because it seemed petty and shallow, so I tried to just get over it. But then I thought about it and realized that anything that irritates me and grates at my ears to the point I want to punch you in the face isn’t petty or shallow at all. It’s a serious problem.”
Slurper: *still trying to play it off like it’s all a joke* “Okay, sure. You’re really going to break up with me for slurping a little bit when I drink. I mean, the drink’s hot! How else am I supposed to drink it?”
Woman: “With basic table manners every child learns. You could wait for it to cool down or blow on it to help, but then I’ve already told you this a dozen times, right? Look, I’m not asking you to change. I mean, I already have and you haven’t listened, and asking over and over is too exhausting. The bottom line is that I can’t date someone whose face I occasionally want to punch, no matter the reason why, and you shouldn’t want to date someone like that, either. It wouldn’t be right for either of us.”
Slurper: *starting to realize she is, in fact, serious* “You’re really breaking up with me over this.”
Woman: “Well, it’s not exactly a ‘break up.’ We’ve only been seeing each other for a couple of months. It’s not like we’re in a full relationship. That’s why I thought it best to do this now, before there was any more, you know, involvement or commitment.”
Slurper: *clearly didn’t see it that way, honestly looks sad* “I… I can’t believe this.”
Woman: “I’m sorry… It’s not that you’re not great overall. We’re just not the right fit for each other. I hope you find someone who can be happy with all of you, slurping habit included. You do deserve that.”
(The woman looked like she felt really bad, and the guy looked halfway stunned, halfway crushed. After an awkward moment, she said goodbye to him and left, and I silently applauded her on her way out. As someone who will have to keep dealing with his slurping, I hope he takes the cue to work on his table manners. Let this be a lesson to all of us: the little habits we build will absolutely affect our lives in the long run. Build good habits and good manners, kids!)
(I am an independent contractor in a barbershop. This means that, while I am a representative of the shop name, I build my own clientele, keep my own cash box, and pay the shop out rather than the other way around. The owner recognizes that we all are independent people and have different methods of building our clientele. Some can rattle off past haircuts, building an important rapport; I cannot. My memory is awful on the best days, and I have a hard time connecting 200+ heads to cuts monthly. Many of my clients understand this, due to working with the public themselves, and know I like confirming information, anyway, to ensure the best cut. I build my rapport with my clients through comics books, video games, horror, and the mouth my sailor father gifted me. I had one client yesterday that decided that wasn’t good enough.)
Client: *sits* “You remember my haircut, right? It’s easy!”
Me: “Sorry, [Client], you know my brain isn’t wired that way. I remember you, of course. Your haircut, not so much.”
Client: “What would it take for you to remember it, huh?”
Me: “Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do. There are maybe four cuts in the last six years that I can remember consistently, and even then, I always double-check in case I remembered an old cut, instead.”
Client: “What if I pinched you? You’d remember it then, right?”
Me: “What? Dude, you’d just be the d**k that pinched me. That’s all I’m going to remember.”
Client: “I think it’s worth a shot.”
Me: “I actively have sharp objects in my hand. Don’t pinch me.”
(The rest of the haircut goes through a similar conversation, him amused, myself annoyed. I finish the cut and he hands me his payment.)
Client: *pinches my arm as soon as he lets go of the money* “Pinchy!”
Me: *swats* “Ay, a**hole!”
Client: *running out the door, giggling* “Next time, you’ll remember!”
(It’s been fifteen hours. I’ve already forgotten his haircut.)
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