Unfiltered Story #187657

, , | Unfiltered | February 28, 2020

(I’m a server in a large pub, and it’s quite a busy night. I’m clearing empty glasses off a table in a coworker’s section that has two 19-20 year old white girls sitting at it, when one of them grabs my arm.)

Girl: You had better music before, I don’t like what’s playing now! Could you put some n***** beats on?

Me: *thinking I misheard* Sorry?

Girl: N***** beats. Like, you know, The Weeknd.

Me: Umm…you can ask the bartender, the music controls are behind the bar.

Girl: No, I want you to do it.

Me: Okay…

(I wander off feeling a little dazed, and never did try to get the music changed.)

No Fortitude For Longitude, Part 15

, , , , , , | Right | February 22, 2020

(I work for a company that has only one sale a year, both in our stores and on our website. The sale is treated by many as a very big deal. I’ve been on the phone with a customer for almost half an hour as she complained that the website was slow — because so many people were on it — some items sold out before she could get them, and not everything she wanted was covered by the sale. Annoying, but at least true, until…)

Customer: “And another thing! Why does the sale start for the people on the West Coast before it does for people in Ontario?! That’s not fair! It should start at the same time for everyone!”

Me: “It does, ma’am.”

Customer: “It does not! I’m looking at your website and it says 6:00 am Pacific time, 9:00 am Eastern time! People in Toronto should get a chance to buy stuff at 6:00 am, too!”

Me: “Ma’am, 6:00 am Pacific time is 9:00 am Eastern time.”

Customer: “You’re trying to claim six is the same as nine? What do you think I am, stupid?!”

Me: “We’re in different time zones. If you’re in Toronto, it’s now five o’clock, right?”

Customer: “Of course, it is!”

Me: “Right, well, I’m in Vancouver and it’s 2:00 pm here right now.”

Customer: “I know that; I’m not an idiot! I don’t see what that has to do with why people in BC get to start on the sale earlier than the rest of us!”

Me: “But that’s what I’m trying to tell you. The sale only started at one time. It’s just that that time was 6:00 am for us, and 9:00 am for you, just like right now it’s 2:00 pm for us and 5:00 pm for you.”

Customer: “I can’t believe you’re lying to me like this! This is f****** ridiculous! I want to talk to your manager, right now!”

(I dutifully got her my supervisor, who spent the next fifteen minutes trying futilely to explain to a grown woman how time zones work. The customer finally hung up, still calling us liars.)

Related:
No Fortitude For Longitude, Part 14
No Fortitude For Longitude, Part 13
No Fortitude For Longitude, Part 12

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Unfiltered Story #186954

, , , | Unfiltered | February 21, 2020

For children under a certain age, our province take off a portion of the taxes of the clothes; however, the parent purchasing the clothes has to let us know before we ring them through that they’re buying these clothes for a child.

*Customer storms back into the store and throws the receipt on the counter*

Customer: You didn’t take the tax off of my purchase! I’m purchasing these for my SON. He’s only TEN.

Me: Sorry about that, but it’s always best to tell us before we ring you through. It will take me a minute to fix this.

Customer: It shouldn’t be my job to tell you! You should ALWAYS ask! It’s ridiculous for us to have to pay these taxes in the first place.

*Our tills are old and don’t make it easy for us to refund, and then re-ring through her entire purchase, while removing the tax from her purchase.*

Me: Our till doesn’t allow credit card refunds, so I’ll have to give this back to you in cash.

*I hand her the $1.75 that was charged to her in taxes. She snatches it out of my hand*

Customer: Every penny counts!

*Cue eye roll as she leaves the store*

Woman Seeks Man To Do The Thinking For Her

, , , , , , | Friendly | February 12, 2020

There’s a particular music cruise I’d really like to go on, but there are no single cabins and none of my friends have the money to join me. Thinking it’s worth a try, I post a personal ad online, asking if anyone out there might be interested in also going on this cruise and splitting the cost. I post it in the non-romantic, women-seeking-women section of the website.

The next day, I receive an email that reads, “This is totally absurd. It’ll cost you $2000 to fly to Florida for this one thing! What a waste of money.” The email signature contains a decidedly male given name. 

It’s a slow day at work, so I write back, “Dear [Emailer], you’re getting ripped off on flights if you’re paying $2000 for Vancouver to Miami six months in advance.”

He emails back almost instantly, “You’re wrong!”

I respond, “Nope! See attached screenshot of a flight for less than a quarter of that. Also, why are you creeping around a personals website reading the W4W/platonic ads? Do you get off on giving women unsolicited financial advice or something?”

The email I receive back calls me a number of unflattering names, though perhaps the most baffling one is “dunce.”

(Reader, I blocked him. And yes, I did find someone to go on the cruise with me, and we had a great time.)

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Putting On A Brave Font

, , , , , , , | Working | February 10, 2020

I’ve been at my current office for coming up two years now and I like the environment. I suffer from dyslexia but have purchased a dyslexic-friendly font, a font converter, and a specific reader so my disability is barely noticeable as I work.

The only annoyance I really suffer is one coworker who prints out everything she emails me and puts it on my desk. I have hit close to twenty times telling her that I have great difficulty reading normal font on normal paper. I have shown her her email in my reader, too, so that she can see I have it. I have sent her the font so that she could print what she wants me to have in a text I can read, but nothing. 

Today, I picked up the sheet as she put it on my desk and dropped it straight into the recycle bin behind me, barely breaking eye contact as I did. She was shocked and annoyed, but I told her that that’s what would happen to every sheet of paper she put on my desk from now on.

I can’t wait to see what happens when I get my next email from her.

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