Reading Too Much Into It

, , , , , | Right | December 22, 2020

I run the scale at a waste facility and have struggled with already cranky customers getting mad at me because I struggle to hear them with their masks. Most of my customers are contractors and can be a little dense.

Customer: “How come you’re still wearing that button? The election is over!”

Me: “Did you read it?”

The button says, “Please be patient; I’m hard of hearing.”

Customer: *Turning red* “Well, how was I supposed to know?”

Me: “Maybe read the button you’re looking at?”

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Poor Etta

, , , , , | Friendly | December 15, 2020

I’m grabbing groceries on my way home from work one afternoon. As I’m picking out a box of cereal, an older man approaches me.

Man: “Excuse me, miss? This might sound strange, but is your name by any chance Etta?”

Me: *Laughs awkwardly* “Nope, it’s [My Name].”

Man: “Ah, I figured it was a long shot. See, the thing is, I ask because you remind me of my late wife.”

I’m not sure what to say.

Me: “Uh…”

Man: “Oh, not when she was on her way out! No, no. You remind me of her back in ’57 when we first went steady. You’re the good version, not the used one.” *Chuckles*

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The Only Change You Want Is A Change Of Staff

, , , , , | Working | December 11, 2020

I am working as a line cook at a taco fast food chain during the dinner rush and my manager is outside taking her break. I have a headset on so I can hear everything the people order and have it ready for them as soon as they pull up to the window. My other coworker, a sixty-five-year-old woman, is handling the drive-thru. 

I’ve been working there for almost two months and already have everything down pat. My coworker was hired about one month before and is friends with another one of the managers. 

She’s bad — like, painfully bad. When working the drive-thru, you have to put into the computer what changes to the order the customer requests. Not once does she put anything into the computer for changes that I hear directly through the headset, and I am forced to remind her.

Coworker: “Hi, welcome to [Taco Joint]. What can we make fresh for you?”

Customer: “I’ll have a meat and potato burrito, extra beef.”

Coworker: “Okay, please pull around.” 

Me: “Make sure you put it in the computer that they want extra beef.”

Coworker: “Hi, welcome to [Taco Joint]. What can we make fresh for you?”

Customer: “I’d like large potato rounds, extra seasoning, and a large cola, no ice.”

Coworker: “Okay, your total is $[total]; please pull around.”

I look at the screen.

Me: “You forgot to put in extra beef.”

Coworker: “It’s too late; they already paid.”

Me: “It’s fine, I’ll just let [Manager] know once she finishes her break.”

Coworker: “I’LL TELL HER.”

Me: “Whatever.”

At this point, there’s a huge line in the drive-thru and this woman is moving super slow. I get a bunch of six-packs and rounds and a couple of combo orders. I tell my coworker to bag the order of six-packs and a two-crispy-taco combo and that order is done. She hands out the food. I notice that two crispy tacos and a large potato are just sitting on the counter, unbagged. 

The rest of the food in that order I made is nowhere to be seen.

Me: “You forgot their crispy taco combo!”

Coworker: “They’ll come back for it, not a big deal.”

Me: “All right, this order is done, all you have to do is finish the churro.”

Coworker: “WHATEVER! I DON’T NEED THIS JOB!” 

My coworker slams the headset on the counter and storms out. I focus on getting everything finished and completed and getting the people in the drive-thru out of the line. My coworker storms back and clocks out on the computer and marches out of the building. Ten minutes later, my manager comes back PISSED, not even halfway through her break. We go and finish the orders.

After the rush has died, my manager informs me that my coworker messaged another manager who doesn’t really like me, saying she quit because I was calling her names. A SIXTY-FIVE-YEAR-OLD WOMAN SAYS SHE QUIT BECAUSE OF A SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD CALLING HER NAMES. 

I never once called her anything, and now, because of her own dumb fault, I am getting the blame pushed onto me. 

I hate humanity.

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This Call Bombed Multiple Times

, , , , , | Right | December 5, 2020

I am in training to work in the call center for a clothing company. I have gone through the book and observed part of the training. The trainers are walking back and forth behind our little cubbies, in case we need help. This is my VERY FIRST call.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Company]; my name is [My Name]. How can I help you today?”

The caller has that typical grouchy old man voice.

Customer: “I need to order some pants.”

Me: “Of course. I’d be happy to help with that.”

Customer: “I want to order the same pair I ordered last time.”

Me: “Sure. Same color and size?”

Customer: “Yes, and they’d better fit this time or I’m gonna bomb your house.”

Me: “Err, excuse me?”

Customer: “The pants better fit this time, or I will bomb your house.”

Me: “Would you like me to adjust the sizing sir?”

Customer: “Nope. But if the pants don’t fit, I am bombing your house.”

Me: “Are you sure, sir? It wouldn’t be any problem.”

Customer: “No, but if the pants don’t fit, I am going to blow up your house.”

In complete shock, and not wanting to mess up my new job, I proceed with the rest of the call, taking the payment information and such. All goes normally.

Me: “Okay, we’re all set. Did you need anything else today?”

Customer: “No, but just remember, if the pants don’t fit, I am going to blow up your house.”

After the call, I called my trainer over and told her about it. I asked her if this kind of thing happens often. She just shrugged and nodded sadly.

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Can We At Least Agree That Herbs Are Good?

, , , | Right | December 2, 2020

I’m a cashier at a garden center. I also happen to practice witchcraft. A middle-aged woman comes up to my register with a bunch of plants to purchase. Everything is going fine and I’m checking her out as normal.

Me: “Oh, cool, herbs! I grow herbs, too!”

Customer: “What do you use them for?”

I’m a pretty open guy, and she asked, so I tell her.

Me: “Witchcraft and cooking!”

Customer: “Oh, okay.”

There is silence between us.

Customer: “How does that work?”

At this point, I’m really excited that someone is open to learning about my “taboo” beliefs.

Me: “Oh, well, I’ll use them to make incense, or I’ll make an oil with them to rub on candles and other things!”

The customer nods attentively. Then, with wide eyes and the most serious, expressive, shocked voice I’ve heard in retail, says:

Customer: “Have you heard of Jesus Christ?

I’m shocked but maintain composure.

Me: “Yes, I have. In fact, I was raised Lutheran.”

Customer: *Absolutely stunned* “WHAT HAPPENED?”

I’m doing my best not to offend her. She’s my customer, after all.

Me: “Uh, I just… examined my beliefs… and found them… to not fit how I see the world.”

Customer: “Then where do you go when you die?”

Me: *Pause* “Nowhere?”

The customer gave me a horrified look and began spouting on about my “satanic” practices. I twisted my upper body in a full 180 degrees, made eye contact with my manager, and mouthed, “HELP.” She promptly came over to help. Suddenly, the conversation dissipated into silence and everything went back to how it had been, if slightly more tense. I finished checking the lady out and she left.

If I’ve seen her again, I haven’t known it. Never did I think I’d be asked in America if I know who Jesus Christ is!

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