A Bus Full Of Knee-Jerks

, , , , , , | Legal | January 16, 2019

A few days before this story happened, I injured my knee and had to use a cane to walk for a week. I got on a bus and sat in one of the reserved seats.

A woman, maybe in her sixties, got on a few stops after me and immediately demanded that I give her my seat. I told her that I was sorry, but that I was unable to do so because of my injured knee.

The woman, as well as most of the people in the bus, thought I was lying, even when I showed my cane. I received some very rude comments from the people in the bus, but I tried to ignore them and pointed out that it would be quite stupid for me to go out with a cane and pretend that I was injured just to avoid giving my seat.

A middle-aged man, who was with the woman, got angry and lifted me from my seat. Without my cane, I couldn’t stand on my own and immediately fell to the floor.

That was the moment that everyone realised I was not lying. The bus stopped, but the driver wouldn’t let anyone off. I was furious; not only had I been taken for a liar, but I had hurt my chin and hit my injured knee during the fall, so I ignored their apologies and called the police on them. They were livid, and they offered me money not to call the police on them, but I was so angry, I still called them.

I had to get stitches in my chin and had to use the cane for an extra week.

Long story short: the woman was not charged, but the man was, and he had to spend a few months in prison.

When The Customer Is Not Always Right, Everything Else Is

, , , , , | Right | January 15, 2019

(Our old store manager is notorious around our town for caving into abusive customers and giving them whatever they want, no matter how crazy their requests are. Head office recently “redistributed” him to a lower position at another store, so we have a new store manager who, unlike our previous one, stands up for the workers. This takes place during her first week.)

Me: “Hi. How are you?”

Customer: “I want to return this and I don’t have a receipt.”

(The customer places a large container of olive oil on the register, but it’s our competitor’s brand.)

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, but it looks like you bought this at [Competitor]. We can’t actually do refunds on things purchased from there.”

Customer: “Bulls***! You do price matching, so it’s pretty much the same as that. I paid around $20 for this, so refund it.”

Me: “As I said, it’s not a brand we sell, so I cannot refund it.”

Customer: “Get me [Old Store Manager], now!”

(I call up our new store manager. The customer stands there calling me every four-letter word you can imagine until the manager walks over and I explain the situation to her.)

Manager: “As you purchased this item from our competitor, you will need to go to them for a refund.”

Customer: “Who the h*** are you? Get me [Old Store Manager].”

Manager: “He no longer works in this location, ma’am, and I am the new store manager here.”

Customer: “Well, then do your job, you [long list of swear words]; otherwise, I’ll smash your face in, and his!” *pointing at me*

Manager: “If you think you are going to get away with this BS, you are sadly mistaken.”

(Our manager pulls out her phone and takes a picture of the customer.)

Customer: “What the h***?”

Manager: “As you have just threatened me and my employee, I am taking your picture to show the police when they get here. Furthermore, I will give this picture to all of my staff, including security, to ensure that you are denied service here any longer. Plus, I will send this picture to all our surrounding stores, as well as our competitor, so they are aware of your violent streak.”

Customer: “I don’t have time for this.”

(The customer left the store in haste and left her olive oil on the counter. She tried to shop at our store two more times that I know of, but each time was stopped by security. Our new manager, needless to say, has stopped a great majority of abusive customers in the past few weeks. It’s been great.)

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Santa To The Rescue!

, , , , | Right | January 13, 2019

(I work at a very small jewelry store known for its crystals. Our store is so small that having ten people in it makes it feel overcrowded. The cash register is right next to our back room. There is no sign on our back room that says staff only. As the store is in a local mall, all the core group associates have left to take a pic with Santa and send the pic to HR, leaving just us seasonals in the store.)

Customer: “I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO HELP ME!”

(I am new to this job and have been hired JUST AS A CASHIER. That means that while I was trained on all the jewelry, I am by no means knowledgeable. The manager gets mad when I help guests because the other workers get paid on commission while I don’t.)

Me: *as I start cashing out a new person* “Someone, will be right with you, ma’am.”

Customer: “Don’t call me, ma’am.”

Me: “Sorry.”

(She stays on the side tapping her foot as I cash the person out. Out of the corner of my eye I see her push open our back room door. I jump in front of her.)

Me: “Ma’am, you cannot go back there.”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “That’s our back room for staff only.”

Customer: “I don’t see any signs saying that.”

Me: “Regardless, you cannot go back there.”

(She actually has me stumped because while common sense says that it’s obviously not for guests, there is no sign. It could’ve been a washroom or something for all she knows.)

Customer: “I know what I want. Let me get it!”

Me: “I cannot do that. I promise someone will be with you soon.” *I raise my hand and try to get noticed by someone on the floor*

Customer: “JUST LET ME THROUGH!”

(I suffer from generalized anxiety disorder and am starting to feel hot and anxious as this customer gets more irate, and guests are getting annoyed that I stopped cashing them out to deal with her. My manager comes back, still wearing the ridiculous Christmas gear she bought to take pictures with Santa, and sees me struggling with a guest.)

Manager: “How can I help you today?”

(I slide away and finish cashing out a guest as the manager deals with the customer.)

Me: “Your total is $125. How do you wish to pay?”

(The guest hands me $150.)

Me: “Oh you gave me too many $10’s.”

Guest: *winking* “The extras are for you.”

(I thanked her and put $150 amount in the cash register, put in $125, and pretended to pocket the rest. Once she left I opened the cash register and put the rest of the money in. It was a nice gesture but we weren’t allowed to take tips. But it showed that some people still have a heart, even though I could see my manager and security escorting the irate guest out.)

That’s The Tall And The Short Of It

, , , , , | Friendly | January 13, 2019

(My 6’7”, male friend is a very intelligent engineer but is very oblivious to common sense and socially acceptable, appropriate, and expected behaviors. He asks me to go to the grocery store with him to help him get ripe produce — i.e. show him how to pick out good fruit and vegetables. We are rounding a corner to an aisle when I notice that a very short woman, maybe three and a half feet tall, is scaling the shelf and about halfway up the rack. My friend, being a southern gentleman, says, “Here! Let me help you!” and tries to grab what she is attempting to reach on the higher shelf. She snaps:)

Woman: “No! I will get it myself!”

(I watch in absolute shock and horror as he puts a hand on each side of her waist and lifts her up. She turns to look at him, slack-jawed, as she grabs the box of cereal. As he is setting her down, I profusely apologize as well as chastising him about not grabbing strange women, especially not picking them up! He immediately realizes something is amiss and sputters out:)

Friend: “But she said she wanted to get it herself!”

Me: “Then let her get it! You don’t pick random people up!”

It’s A Gamble Working With Him

, , , , , | Working | January 12, 2019

(I am a long-term employee in a restaurant at a horse racing venue. The tables are arranged on tiers with huge windows facing the track, so people are there first and foremost to gamble and watch the races. We have a lot of employees coming and going, and as a supervisor, I always try to be friendly and initiate conversation with new staff if there is a quiet moment. This particular night I open with what I thought was a pretty generic question.)

Me: “So, are you interested in horse racing?”

New Coworker: “WHAT?! WHY WOULD YOU ASK ME THAT? I’M JUST HERE TO WORK!” *storms off in a huff*

Me: *speechless*

(Ten minutes later:)

New Coworker: “I’m sorry about earlier. I really do like horses. When I was younger I liked to draw them. They’re such beautiful animals…”

(He proceeds to talk about his affinity with horses while I stand, still quite horrified by his previous outburst, and now quite disturbed by his subsequent dramatic change in demeanour. I keep my distance from him from then on, until I see he has left his change float glass sitting on a table. We each carry a glass with $20 of change in it on our drinks tray so we can take customers’ money at the table, give them change, and then order and pay at the bar. It saves the customers going to the bar to order. I pick up his float, and when he comes back to the bar I take him aside to quietly explain why he can’t leave the cash unattended. He flips out! He starts yelling about how HIS customers would never steal from him, and then starts slamming half-full, dirty glasses into the clearing rack next to me. In the process, he manages to splash what we call “slops” — the gross leftovers from dirty glasses — over a nearby customer. He storms off again, and I apologise to the customer and help her clean up. At this point, I am quite frankly scared of the guy, and one of my bosses happens to walk past. In a workplace with a transient workforce and, quite frankly, not a lot of appreciation for workers, I do the only thing I can think of.)

Me: “[Boss], I’m sorry to leave you hanging, but I’m going to have to leave. [New Coworker] is acting unpredictably, with violent outbursts, and I don’t feel safe.”

Boss: “Why don’t you go on break and let me sort it out?”

(He fired the guy mid-shift, and I was later told that the guy waited by the front staff entrance until the staff left at the end of the night. I’m so thankful that I had parked by the back exit. I also found out later that he was a regular patron at the nearby casino, which might have explained his sensitivity to gambling questions.)

 

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