Not Quite Climbing To Mother Of The Year Status

, , , , , | Right | November 10, 2020

I work in a museum. I see a three-year-old child climbing on a display and ask him to come down. The display isn’t designed to be climbed, but more importantly, it’s close to enough to two other displays so that if he fell, he would almost certainly hit his head on the edge or corner of the other tables.

Mother: “God, that’s ridiculous! I don’t understand why they would make a display children can climb and then they’re not allowed to climb it? That’s so stupid.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not worried about the display. It’s not designed to be climbed, yes, but he could be seriously hurt if he fell.”

Mother: “So?”

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Excitedly In Receipt Of A Receipt

, , , , , | Right | November 9, 2020

I’m overseeing the self-serve registers when a customer approaches me.

Customer: “Excuse me, but these registers don’t print out receipts, do they?”

Me: “Actually, they do. They’ll print one out for you once you’ve finished paying.”

Customer: “Oh? But then I have to give the receipt to you, don’t I? I don’t get to hang onto it.”

Me: “No, it’s yours to keep. We don’t need them.”

Customer: “Really? I get to keep it? Wow!”

She walks over to a register and purchases her groceries. As she finishes, she calls it to me.

Customer: *Excitedly* “It asked me if I wanted a receipt. I said yes.”

She grabs her freshly-printed receipt and her groceries and walks off. On the way, she stops one of my coworkers.

Customer: “Look! It gave me a receipt and I get to keep it.”

Then, she left. I had to explain to my confused coworker what the customer was so excited about, not that I really understood it myself.

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What Happens In Canada Stays In Canada

, , , , , , , , | Friendly | October 27, 2020

This happens a few years ago, before the US lifts its embargo on Cuba. My roommate has an American cousin who’s come up to Canada for the weekend. One of my other roommates is a bartender and has mixed up some drinks for us while we’re hanging out.

American Cousin: “Wow, that’s really good! What’s in it?”

[Bartender Roommate] reels off a list of ingredients, including rum.

American Cousin: “What kind of rum?”

Bartender Roommate: “Ah, my very favourite, [Brand].”

American Cousin: “Never heard of it. Is it Dominican?”

Bartender Roommate: “No, it’s Cuban.”

American Cousin: “Dude! You’ve got a hookup for Cuban rum?!”

[Bartender Roommate] laughs because she thinks he’s joking.

Bartender Roommate: “Yeah, my super-secret connection, the [Provincial Government-Run Liquor Store].”

American Cousin: “No way! Can I get in on this?”

I cut in because I can see he’s actually serious.

Me: “You can pick it up at most liquor stores here.”

American Cousin: *With a wink* “Sure, sure. So, you’ll hook me up, yeah?”

No matter how hard we tried to persuade him that it was completely legal to buy Cuban products in Canada, he kept thinking we were pulling his leg because “Cuban stuff is illegal.” Even taking him to multiple obviously legitimate liquor stores and a specialty tobacconist didn’t convince him. However, he seemed happy to go home with two or three bottles of rum and some cigars, so all’s well, I suppose.

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Belting Out The Ironies

, , , , | Right | October 22, 2020

I am in line at a small neighbourhood supermarket. There is one person in front of me who hasn’t finished loading their groceries onto the conveyor belt yet, so I am patiently waiting to put my own on there. It’s a very small belt, and I only have a small basket with a few items anyway.

Suddenly, a woman behind me physically shoves her way in between me and the belt and starts loading her own groceries. I am so gobsmacked that I say nothing at all; I also have severe social anxiety and couldn’t speak up if I wanted to!

The guy serving also says nothing and just lets it happen.

He finishes serving the woman, and you would think that would be the end of it, but instead, she suddenly says in a haughty voice:

Woman: “Some people just have no idea how to queue efficiently in here, do they?”

And off she flounced, legitimately proud of herself for successfully pushing in front of me.

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Sorry Not Sorry

, , , , , , | Right | October 18, 2020

I work in a grocery store overseeing the self-serve machines. I have to clean every machine between customers, something that’s generally pretty easy to do given how quiet things are. As I’m cleaning, a sweet-looking older American lady beckons me over.

Customer: “Excuse me. I’m sorry about this, but I’m a teacher, so I have to say it.”

She then explains to me in vivid and graphic detail exactly how the chemicals from the cleaning spray I’m using will enter into my body and eventually settle in my liver, leading to my death. I laugh awkwardly, not sure of what to say.

Customer: “I’m sorry. I’m an English teacher and my sister is a science teacher. She learns about this stuff and tells me about it. I’m sorry.”

She then carries on explaining how even dusting your house will destroy your liver, and how we should basically be wearing full hazmat suits with face coverings and goggles whenever we do any sort of cleaning, all backed up with detailed scientific fact. Finally, she pays and goes to leave.

Customers: “Bye. Thanks for your help. Sorry about all that.”

I continued cleaning each machine after she left, now with the knowledge that every squirt of the bottle was dragging me closer to the bleak inevitability of an early death. Thanks, lady.

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