There’s a franchise location of a very popular fast food restaurant in my hometown. I go to this restaurant a lot, and one day, there’s a coupon flyer in my to-go bag. The next time I go to the restaurant, I try to use one of the coupons from the flyer.

Cashier: “We can’t take your coupon. I’m sorry.”

Me: “Why not?”

Cashier: “This location isn’t accepting the flyers. If you look at the coupon, it says, ‘Valid at Participating Locations,’ and we’re not a participating location for that flyer.”

Me: “But I got the flyer here, at this location. Wouldn’t that make you a participating location?”

Cashier: “Um… well… it was the owner’s decision, so I don’t know.”

Me: “Is there a manager I can talk to?”

The cashier shouts for the manager, and he comes out from the kitchen.

Manager: “What’s going on up here?”

Me: “I got this flyer at this location, but your cashier is trying to say that you don’t accept the coupons here. I realize that the flyers are only valid at participating locations, but if you’re giving the flyers out, doesn’t that make you a participating location?”

Manager: “Our owner decided that we were losing too much money because everybody was getting discounts from the flyer, so he decided not to honor the flyer.”

I walked out of the restaurant without ordering and decided to call the restaurant’s corporate customer service line. Corporate was not happy hearing that this location was giving out a flyer only to turn around and not honor the coupons. When I went back to that location a few days later, they were accepting the coupons without any issues.

I work at a small bank in my town as a personal banker. My bank requires all accounts to have a verbal password which is created by the customer when accounts are opened.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Bank]. This is [My Name]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Hi, I would like to know the balance on my account.”

Me: “Sure, can I get your name or account number?”

The customer provides their name.

Me: “Okay, and Mr. [Customer], can I have your verbal password on your account to verify your identity?”

Customer: “I don’t remember it. Can you tell me what the password is?”

Me: “I think that would defeat the purpose.”

Related:
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 7
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 6
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 5
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 4
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 3

It’s early on into the global health crisis when people are still getting used to wearing masks and having to stand six feet apart. It’s the end of our shift, and we’re standing in line at the time clock. An older coworker is standing close to me, maybe a foot away.

Me: “Dude, could you step back a couple of feet? That’s not six feet.”

Coworker: “Oh, it’s fine! It’s all media-pulled BS to control us! There’s no danger!”

Me: “Seriously, dude. Step. Back.”

Coworker: “H*** no!”

Me: “I’m not scanning my badge until you step back, and I’ve got all night.”

He huffs and leans back by maybe thirty degrees. I shrug, shift my weight, and make a pretty convincing farting noise with my mouth. I then sigh, as though I’ve been holding it in for a while. I laugh as he jumps back a good five feet, his face almost comical in its shock, as our coworkers standing in line laugh at him.

Me: “What? I told you to step back.”

He still refuses to admit there’s a global crisis, almost a year into it, but he’s better at keeping his distance now!

I work at a grocery store and am dispatched to clean up some s*** in an aisle after a kid had an accident.

An older lady approaches me with a smile.

Customer: “Aww. Did someone bring their dog in the store?”

Me: “No, they brought in a child.”

She then slowly backed away and gave me a look of disgust.

Related:
Aisle Be Watching The Kids, Part 2
Aisle Be Watching The Kids

I have just moved apartments, and I am stocking up on all of the essentials. I’ve been putting things on the belt while the cashier scans them when he suddenly gets a look of disgust on his face and drops the box that he is holding.

I glance at it and see that it is a box of tampons. Given the stories I’ve read, I’m already rolling my eyes internally.

Cashier: “Sorry, ma’am. I’ll see about getting you a clean box.”

Me: “Huh?”

The cashier grabbed the side of the box and turned it around to reveal that some liquid had spilled down the back of the box, leading to the box deforming from water damage and some sort of sticky glue-like residue being left behind. Apparently, I’d missed it when I was pulling the box off of the shelf.

Luckily, none of the other items I was buying were affected, and he was able to pull a clean box from the shelf, but it certainly taught me a lesson about jumping to judge someone.