Unfiltered Story #191506

, , | Unfiltered | April 6, 2020

(I’m working on the sales floor when I notice two rambunctious little boys without a parent in sight I watch as they unfold the clothes on various tables, run around playing tag, and try hiding under different displays. When I begin refolding one of the tables and ask them to stop, the older boy turns to me.)

Boy: It’s YOUR job to pick that stuff up!

(I’m left speechless as the two boys run off again out of sight. A few minutes later, I notice that they’ve climbed up on one of our display treadmills and are being pretty rough with it.)

Me: Hey guys, that isn’t a toy. Could you please get off so you don’t get hurt?

(At that moment, their mother suddenly appears, looking very unhappy.)

Mother: I told them to stand on that so I could shop!

(She grabs them both by the hand and leaves toward the registers in a huff, muttering about how rude I was to her and her sons.)

Xeroing In On The Problem

, , , , | Right | April 5, 2020

(I’m behind the circulation desk at the library.)

Patron: “Hey, can you show me how to use the copier?”

(There is a copy machine, though minding it isn’t supposed to be my job. I walk him through the steps.)

Me: “Okay, you either put your original in this tray, or you can lift the lid and put it directly on the glass. Then, put in ten cents and—”

Patron: “Woah! Woah! I want a COPY! Not a Xeroc!”

(Yes, he does say it like “Xeroc.”)

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Patron: “I knew I should have gone to [Shipping Company]!”

Me: “I’m afraid I don’t understand, sir—”

Patron: “If you put it through the tray it’s a copy, but if you lift the lid and put it on the glass it’s a Xerox! The judge won’t take a Xeroc!”

Me: “Sir, I assure you they’re the same thing.”

Patron: “I’ve spent a lot of money on this divorce! I’m not getting it thrown out because I showed up with a Xeroc!”

Me: “I assure you that Xerox is just another name for a copy, and you don’t have to use the lid if you don’t want to.”

Patron: “He said to bring a copy! Not a Xeroc!”

Me: “Okay, but here, look.”

(I make a copy with each method, and show them both to him.)

Me: “They’re exactly the same.”

Patron: “I knew I should have used [Shipping Company]! You don’t know anything!”

(He grabbed his copies and stormed out.)

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Unfiltered Story #191492

, , | Unfiltered | April 5, 2020

(I’m working the speedy checkout registers when a gentleman comes up and begins putting his things down, he has more than the recommended 20 the sign says but I don’t care.)

Me: hello did You find everything ok?

Him: yes sweetie I did thank you

Me: any coupons or price matches

Him: no just my food, worms for fishin and beer

(I scan the food then worms. Bagging separately.)

Me: how’s your day going so far? (Trying to talk so he and I arent having awkward silence)

Him: good thank you, before bagging the worms can u open them and can’t them by hand no gloves as I want to make sure all the worms are there.

(I’m terrified of worms idk y)

Me: no I can’t because of sanitation reasons

Him: do it! Count my worms!

Me: I won’t count them and I don’t have to ask her. (My manager standing behind me waiting to give change)

Him: fine… You better not have ripped me off on my worms then!

Me: *total price* thank you for shopping today, have a great night sir!

Manager: that’s right I won’t make her count the worms sir.

Young, Scrappy, And Adorable

, , , , , , | Related | April 3, 2020

My four-year-old daughter needs her vaccinations finished so she can be registered for kindergarten in the coming fall. I tell her on Monday afternoon that Tuesday morning we will go to the doctor’s office to get those done. 

Daughter: “What are vaccinations?”

Me: “They’re shots.”

Daughter: “I’m going to get shot?!

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Unfiltered Story #190100

, , | Unfiltered | March 17, 2020

I’m getting lunch at a popular Mexican restaurant. I speak Spanish but I’m rusty, and I’m of German descent so usually the servers don’t presume that I speak Spanish. Today, though:

Line chef: (In Spanish) Hello, miss! Did you have the salad or the burrito?

Me: (in surprised English): Hey. Um…el burrito. La burrito? No–el burrito. Sorry. Wow.

Line chef: (in Spanish) lettuce and salsa with that?

Me: (finally recovering Spanish skills): Yes. Both, please.

Line chef: (in Spanish) for here or to go?

Me: Para… (I’ve already forgotten the word for “carry out” so I just make a leaving motion)

Line chef: (in Spanish) you speak Spanish well!

Me: (in Spanish) Ha! In the past, yes. Not so much now.

He’s almost being flirtatious at this point which throws me off even more, and my mind is just tripping all over itself. He rings me up and continues to talk very rapidly Spanish, and I can’t hear very well or keep up. Then:

Line chef: (reaching his hand over the counter) it’s very nice to meet you.

I take his whole hand in mine to shake it, only to realize he was just handing my card back. What follows is the epitome of an awkward weak handshake, and I blush furiously. He smiles though and wishes me a good day. I return the sentiment (in Spanish, finally getting a whole phrase out correctly), and rush out of there vowing to practice my Spanish more often.