Two Prices, Twice The Trouble

, , , , , , | Right | November 7, 2018

(I work at a Canadian outlet of an American retail chain. Many of the products arrive in the store with both US and Canadian prices on them. This is frequently a bone of contention for customers, because the US price is always significantly lower than the Canadian price. I am approached by one such customer:)

Customer: “If I pay in US dollars, I pay the US price, right?”

Me: “We do accept US dollars, but you will have to pay the Canadian price.”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “Because this is a Canadian store.”

Customer: “But it’s an American company!”

Me: *a bit confused* “But you’re in Canada!”

“It’s Their Culture” Is No Longer Valid Currency

, , , , | Right | November 4, 2018

(I work at a gift shop directly on a cruise terminal, and it’s not unusual for people to come in looking to either break up big bills or trade smaller bills for the larger ones. My coworker and I are both female and in our early twenties, as are most of my other coworkers. There are seventeen females to every three males so it’s common not to have a male present. A gentleman of East Indian descent comes into the store, looks at the people in it, looks at my coworker and me behind the counter, looks at the other people again, and reluctantly turns back to us.)

Coworker: “Hello, sir! Do you have a question?”

Customer: *looks around again, still looking a bit puzzled* “Is it just you two girls working?”

Coworker: “Yes, sir. Do you need any help?”

Customer: “So, there’s no one else? Not your grandfather?”

(It should be noted that while it is a family business, neither of us recognize the man, and she has been working there for seven years and me for three; we don’t know how he knows to ask for her grandfather.)

Coworker: “No, sir, but my father, the manager, is right outside.”

Customer: “Okay.” *leaves without a backward glance*

(Both my coworker and I are thinking that there’s a problem with the washroom or something else that he would be uncomfortable talking about to a woman. He later comes in with our manager to get rid of small bills. That is all he does. Both my coworker and I are a little peeved, to say the least. It’s not just that he thought we couldn’t do it, but he didn’t even ask because we’re women. After he leaves, my manager can see we’re a little upset.)

Manager: “It’s just his culture.”

Me: *softly to my coworker* “Yes, I understand. Because we have uteruses, we absolutely cannot do simple addition!”

Not Just The Watermelons That Are Hollow

, , , , , , | Related | October 25, 2018

(I am going grocery shopping with my mum when she stops to pick up a watermelon. To my bemusement, she brings the melon up to her ear and starts hitting the side of it.)

Me: *staring at her* “Um…. what are you doing?”

Mum: “[Uncle] told me this trick with watermelons! You hit it, and you can tell by how it sounds whether or not it’s fresh.”

Me: “So, how is it supposed to sound if it’s fresh?”

Mum: “That’s the thing; I forgot! It either sounds hollow if it’s fresh, or hollow if it’s not. I forgot which one is which!” *continues picking up watermelons and hitting them*

Me: “Well, what’s the point of banging on them all if you don’t know what sound you’re looking for?

Mum: *pauses*

Me: *stares*

Mum: *resumes her assault on the watermelons*

(I’ve given up trying to understand the logic in this woman’s thought processes.)

Should Have Waited Until He Got To The Registers

, , , , | Right | October 13, 2018

(I am tidying around my department in a big box store when I find a customer’s wallet on the floor nearby. Store policy is to have two employees present when you open the wallet to check for identification. I grab a nearby associate and we open the wallet, locate the customer’s driver’s license, and take the wallet to the customer service desk where I page the customer to the desk by name. Shortly after paging I see a man storming up to the desk.)

Me: “Hello, sir, did yo—”

Customer: “Why the h*** did you page me? It’s embarrassing!”

Me: “Sir, we found your wallet.”

Customer: “I have my d*** wallet. And I have shopping to do!”

(The customer turns to leave.)

Me: “Sir! Could you please just humour me and check for your wallet?”

Customer:I have shopping to do, and I have my d*** wallet.”

Me: “Then how did I get your name to page you?”

(The customer stopped walking away from the desk, patted down the back pocket of his jeans, and when he couldn’t find his wallet, stomped back to the desk, grabbed it from me, and stormed off without so much as a thank-you.)

In The Name Of Love, Whatever It Is

, , , , , | Romantic | October 9, 2018

(There’s a regular who comes in once a week or so and talks my ear off the whole time. He talks at me, doesn’t ask me anything about myself, and doesn’t seem to listen to me when I do get a word in edgewise. I listen politely for as long as I can, but I am at work so I usually excuse myself after twenty minutes or so. Then, he comes in again.)

Regular: “Hey! I need to talk to you.”

Me: *currently with other visitors* “Okay. Sure. Give me a second.”

Regular: “Will you go out with me?”

Me: *stunned but not wanting to be mean* “Uh… We can discuss that but I have to finish helping these people.”

Regular: “I think you and I have a real connection. I’m in love with you.”

Other Visitor: “You know what? We’ll… we’ll wait, if you want to deal with this. It’s okay.”

Regular: “I’m in love with you.” *raising his voice* “I love you!”

(There’s several visitors nearby and all of them look over.)

Me: “Uh. Okay. Cool. That’s very nice, but I have a boyfriend.”

Regular: “But he doesn’t love you like I love you! You and I are perfect for each other!”

Me: “Dude. Look. I’m very flattered, but I don’t feel that way about you.”

Regular: *completely unembarrassed and smiling* “That’s not true! I know you love me, too. We understand each other.”

Me: “We really don’t. Please stop.”

Regular: *laughs* “Don’t be silly. Come on.”

Me: “Seriously? I am at work, I have a boyfriend, and I am not interested. Okay?”

Regular: “But your boyfriend doesn’t get you like I do!”

Me: “Oh, really? Hey, quick question: What’s my name?”

Regular: *smile fading* “What?”

Me: “What’s my name?”

Regular: “Oh. Uh. It’s… Um…” *getting flustered* “Well, that doesn’t matter. I love you! I don’t need to know your name to love you!”

Me: “I’m going to walk away now. Please leave.”

(He kept shouting how he loved me while I walked away and went out into the store room. One of the security guards had to come over and explain to him that a woman being nice to you while she’s at work doesn’t mean anything. He hasn’t come in since.)

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