Getting Rid Of That Ingredient Is No Small Potatoes

, , , , , , , | Right | June 25, 2019

(I overhear this conversation at a salad bar after grabbing some food during my lunch break.)

Customer: “Oh, and can I get no potato in that?”

Employee: “I’m sorry, no potato?”

Customer: “Yeah.”

Employee: “In your potato salad?”

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When Your Brain Is Marshmallow…

, , , , , | Right | June 20, 2019

(It’s late at night and I’m walking home from work when I drop into a well-known fast food joint. I have just completed a twelve-hour shift and am walking forty-five minutes home as my car isn’t working. My brain isn’t exactly in gear.)

Me: “A small white hot chocolate, two sugars, please.”

Cashier: “What milk?”

Me: “Small white hot chocolate, two sugars.”

(This repeats twice.)

Cashier: “Nonfat or full cream milk?”

Me: “Oh, crap. Full cream, please. I’m so sorry. Long day.”

Cashier: *laughing* “No problem. [Total], please.”

(When my drink is ready she has included marshmallows and a chocolate muffin.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but I didn’t pay for the marshmallows or muffin, and I don’t have the money for them.”

Cashier: “We’re shutting the cafe now, so they’re on the house. Hope your day gets better!”

(Thanks to the cashier who made my day a lot better and put up with a stupid customer.)

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Sometimes It’s Easier To Go With Their Insanity

, , , , | Right | June 1, 2019

(I work in a call centre for an electricity and gas retailer. This call comes through.)

Me: “Welcome to [Retailer]. My name is [My Name]; how can I help you?”

Caller: *shrilly* “My bill is wrong! It’s far too high! I absolutely need it fixed! And I need compensation for the error!”

Me: “I’ll certainly check it out for you. Can I please get your account number?”

(She gives me the number and I find her account, but it closed years ago. I go through the security check with her, verify her, and then continue.)

Me: “So, this is odd; your account isn’t active. Are you holding your most recent bill?”

Caller: “Of course I’m not! My current account is with [Competitor]! But I absolutely refuse to speak to them! I want you to look at my bill and fix it!”

Me: “So… Your electricity account is not presently with us.”

Caller: “Yes.”

Me: “But you called us and want us to fix your bill.”

Caller: “YES! F***! I am not speaking to those crooks! Just get my bill from the electricity computer thingy and fix it!”

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t have access to their systems. We are not even remotely connected to each other. You can’t walk into McDonald’s and ask for a refund from KFC, right?”

Caller: *shrieking* “FIX IT! You’re so stupid! Of course you can see the bill!”

Me: “Can I just get you to hold the line for one moment, please?”

(I call [Competitor]’s call centre.)

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name] from [Retailer]. I have one of your customers on the line, and she’s… well, she is refusing to call you about her high bill, and she wants me to fix it.”

Competitor: *bursts out laughing* “Oh, great. It’s going to be one of those days, huh?”

Me: “Yeah. So, I’ve got all of her details, and have confirmed her ID. Can I transfer her through to you and we just don’t mention that she’s been transferred to [Competitor]’s Call Centre?”

Competitor: *still laughing, groans* “Yeah, why not? Let’s give it a try, then!”

(I bring the caller back onto the line.)

Me: “[Caller], I have my ‘colleague’ on the line; she’s going to fix that right up for you now. You might just need to confirm some of your details with her again.”

Caller: “Good! Maybe she knows what she’s doing!”

Me: “I assure you that she does. Bye now.”

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It’s A Bailey Struggle

, , , , , , | Legal | May 29, 2019

(My Saint Bernard is still only a puppy, so while I still can, I’m taking him on a walk around the area so he can learn his way around if he gets lost. Despite me only having him for a couple of months, he’s already protective of me, and quite strong, too. I’m at the milk bar at the end of my street and the only pole I can tie him to isn’t in sight from within the shop. I will only take about two minutes, so I leave him there. Upon coming out of the shop I see someone dragging my dog down the path. I’m only twelve and around 5’4″, while this guy is at least 6’4″, muscular, and in his mid-30s.)

Me: *while running* “Hey! That’s my dog!”

(Upon seeing me, my dog starts to pull as hard as he can to get to me, and the guy starts to move faster.)

Me: *getting in front of him* “Didn’t you hear me? That’s my dog!”

Stranger: “Out of my way, girly. Bruno and I are trying to get home.”

(My dog’s name is not Bruno.)

Me: “If his name is Bruno, why does he respond when I call out ‘Bailey’? Why does he seem so eager to get away from you and back to me if he’s your dog?”

Stranger: “Because that’s how he acts around everyone.”

(The shop owner hears me calling and leaves the shop to see what is going on.)

Owner: “Both of you! What’s going on here?”

Stranger: “This little girly here was trying to get my dog!”

Owner: “Really?” *to me* “What was going on here?”

Me: “I came out of your shop and found this guy dragging Bailey down the street!”

Owner: *to the stranger* “Can you prove he’s your dog?”

Stranger: “Well, erm…”

Me: *remembering the tag on his neck* “I can prove he’s mine.”

Stranger: “As if!”

Me: *to the owner* “Look at his tag around his neck! I can tell you the address, the phone number is my mum’s, and his name is Bailey.”

(The owner asks me what the various details are and I answer them. The stranger looks angrier and angrier each time.)

Stranger: *yelling* “YOU JUST LOOKED AT THE TAG BEFORE!”

(The yelling scares my dog, who has been pulling on the lead. When he pulls the lead once more it snaps, and my dog bites the stranger before running to me.)

Stranger: “Give me back my dog! I’m calling the police!”

Owner: “And I’ll show them the security footage.”

(The police were called, and when shown the tapes they took him to their car and the shop owner gave me a new lead.)

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No Vocation For Location, Part 23

, , , , | Right | May 28, 2019

(I am working as a burger flipper and petrol pump assistant in a tiny tourist town on the Great Ocean Road when a terribly rude American tourist asks me the following.)

Tourist: “Excuse me, ma’am. Could you tell me what is the best time to catch a flight to Hobart?”

(Hobart is the capital city in Tasmania, the island State at the bottom of Australia.)

Me: “Well, that depends; when do you need to arrive?”

Tourist: *suddenly and unexpectedly yelling* “Don’t play games with me, young lady. I’m not a stupid tourist, you know!”

Me: “…?”

Tourist: “I know that Tasmania rotates, so it must be cheaper to fly at certain times of day when Hobart is closer to the mainland.”

Me: “…?!”

Tourist: “Well? I haven’t got all day.”

Me: *speechless*

No Vocation For Location, Part 22
No Vocation For Location, Part 21
No Vocation For Location, Part 20

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