I live in a mixed dorm and there is a shared kitchen for the entire floor. It is near Christmas and my roommates and I bake some gingerbread men and place them out with a sign with festive messages. A roommate puts up an extra sign saying, “Eat me.”

A couple hours later, on the extra sign, someone has added a title, “Gingerbread Ladies,” and drawn a gingerbread “lady” with long hair, with an arrow pointing at her crotch.

Then comes a lot of chatter guessing which of the guys has done it. The girls are completely overlooked as possible pranksters.

Soon, a second extra sign appears saying, “Go away, dudes; we’re lesbians. Signed, [Female Student #1] and [Female Student #2]. (We’re both single.)”

Yup. That’s how those two girls decided to come out. My roommate who placed the, “Eat me,” sign was actually in on it.

(I work in a pharmacy in a large box store. On Sundays, when only one pharmacist is on duty, the pharmacy shuts down for them to take a lunch break. This story is related to me by one of the pharmacists. The gate is down, but can sort of be seen through, and the pharmacist can be glimpsed through the holes.)

Lady: *at the top of her voice* “HEY! HEY, YOU! ARE YOU OPEN?!”

Pharmacist: “Uh, no, ma’am, we reopen in ten minutes. Please come back then.”

Lady: “IT’LL ONLY TAKE A MINUTE! I NEED SOME BUTT CREAM!”

Pharmacist: “Ma’am, we’re closed! Please come back in ten minutes.”

Lady: “BUTT! CREAM! JUST GIVE ME SOME G**D*** BUTT CREAM!”

Pharmacist: “Ma’am, we’re closed! We’ll reopen in ten minutes!”

Lady: “THIS IS RIDICULOUS! I JUST NEED SOME BUTT CREAM!”

(She finally stormed off… two minutes before we reopened for business.)

(A customer has just asked to mix two sundae flavors together. She picks the two flavors that have the most toppings in them. They’re hell to top on their own; together is going to be miserable. My manager clarifies with her in case she doesn’t realize exactly what comes with each.)

Manager: “Ma’am, that is a lot of toppings to put in. That’s going to be two different kinds of cookie pieces, chocolate chips, peanut butter, strawberries, and cheesecake pieces; are you sure that’s what you want?”

Customer: “Jesus f****** Christ! Can you do it or not?”

Manager: *gritting his teeth* “I’ll have that right out.”

Customer: “Hey, wait, can I have an application? Are you hiring?”

(Later, after she’s finished her application, she waves me over impatiently from where I’m busy taking an order so she can ask me to get my manager back to her.)

Manager: “I really won’t be hiring for another month, just so you know.”

Customer: “Well, can’t you just hire sooner?”

(I asked my manager if he would consider her, because she seemed like a bundle of sunshine to work with, but he said no.)

(I’m called in to talk to my front-end supervisor and the assistant store manager about a customer complaint.)

Assistant Manager: “I received a disturbing call about you from a customer who said that she dropped her cash while paying and you didn’t help her pick it up.”

Me: “Well, no, I didn’t. I was told in training that cashiers aren’t supposed to leave their registers in the middle of a transaction unless there’s an actual emergency. Also, the customer in line behind her did help her pick it up, and three people picking up a few coins seems like overkill to me. Anyway, the only reason that her cash ended up on the ground is because she tossed it at me instead of handing it to me, forcefully enough that the coins bounced off of me and landed on her side of the counter. I’m not in the habit of helping people who disrespect me.”

Supervisor: “[My Name], you need to calm down.”

Me: “I’m calm; I’m just telling you what happened.”

Assistant Manager: “The customer didn’t call to inform me of this because she wanted you to get in trouble.”

Me: “Really? I can’t think of any other reason to call and complain about something so petty.”

Supervisor: “That’s enough! I’ve been at this store almost a year now and you are the only cashier I’ve ever gotten any complaints about from customers!”

(This is an outright lie. Cashiers and baggers at this store talk to each other all the time, and one of the things we all talk about is, “[Supervisor] chewed me out over another BS complaint.”)

Assistant Manager: “You’re probably lying about her tossing the cash, too. I’m sure if I looked at the security camera footage from that day I’ll see she did nothing of the sort.”

Me: “That’s a great idea; let’s go look at it right now. I even remember roughly what time it was.”

Assistant Manager: “We don’t have time for any of that; just sign this write-up so we can all get back to doing our jobs.”

(I refused to sign. Within two weeks of this incident, I had found a new job and given my notice.)

(I’m working as a commissioned salesman at a large music gear retailer. A gentleman comes in soon after we open on a Monday morning and says that he needs a complete music set-up for a newly opened local church: PA, drums, guitar, bass, and keyboard gear. I agree to help, as it has been a slow month and I can use the sale. The guy proceeds to nickel and dime me for every possible discount he can for just under two hours, mentioning that it’s “for a church” at least a dozen times, grinding so hard that in the end, a $12,000 deal is making barely $150 profit.)

Me: “Okay, with the stands and cables it comes to [total].”

Customer: *scratches his chin for a second, looking at the total on the screen* “That still seems a bit high. I really think God would like a better deal.”

Me: *exasperated and ready to just get the guy out of the store* “I’m pretty sure God would also like for me to be able to feed my family this month, too, man.”

Customer: *somewhat sheepish* “Oh, well, yeah, I suppose he would.”

(He paid the quoted price.)

Related:
Thou Shalt Not Use The Lord’s Name To Haggle

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