*I had this really nice older gentleman come through my line in the Electronics section. We’re chatting about a bunch of different things, then he wanted to impress with a trick on my cellphone. I don’t know a lot about technology (yes, I know. I work in the Electronics section but don’t know a lot about technology. I do, however, love video games and books, which are both in the section). I hand him my phone and he starts looking for the button he needs and can’t seem to find it*
Me: “It’s a OnePlus 8. I HATE it, but I let the people at the store talk me into it. It might not have that button.”
Man: “No. No. All phones have a build number. Is it here? No…”
Me: *chuckling* “I know. But it might not have it because…it sucks.”
Man: “No, it’s here somewhere.”
*Ten minutes later*
Man: “WHERE THE [BLEEP] IS IT?!?”
*By this point I am just dying. He finally gave up. They still say, somewhere out there, the illusive Build Number is still hiding, waiting*
Background: Shortly before this happened, the store I was managing had been forced into a remodel by the landlord, and it ended up requiring a negotiation of the lease – on our terms. Our corporate office was not kind.
Several employees complained to me that the mall security were rousting them while they were eating lunch in the cars in the parking lot. (They were supposed to roust skateboarders, who were a genuine problem.) So I called the management company:
Me: “This is a problem. My employees are complaining. I’d like to handle this with a polite conversation between you and I as grown ups. I don’t want to have to refer this to my corporate office.”
Them: “We’ll look into this.”
Less than two weeks later, two guys come into the store, one in a suit, the other in a security uniform I didn’t recognize, asking for me by name. The suit handed me his business card.
Suit: “We’re your new security company. This guy’s in charge of the team. If they give you any problems, you call me and I’ll take care of it.”
There were no problems.
*This is word for word of our conversation. My mum and I are playing a zoo game on the computer*
Me: “Should we put in our Pronghorns or our Nile Monitor Lizards?”
Mum: “Oh let’s do the Nile Monitors.”
Me: “Okay.”
*So I go about the process of sending them to their habitat and putting in the plants they like. In order to remember the names and breeds of animals my mother writes it down in a notebook*
Mum: *just finished writing* “Okay, there we go. Where are they from, by the way? Is it South America?”
*I freeze and slowly looked at her*
Mum: “What?”
Me: “South America? The Nile…NILE Monitor lizard?”
Mum: *realizing the name at last* “Well…you know…that Amazon Nile…”
(Our office has a pet bearded dragon, and a casual atmosphere that can lead to some less than professional conversations. For what it matters, I’m female.)
Me: *petting and cooing at beardie*
Coworker: Hey, [my name], stop stroking your lizard!
Me: It’s the company lizard, and I’ll stroke it whenever I like!
(Cue “ooo”s from everyone present, like a bad sitcom.)
I’m having friends over so I feed my cat a couple hours earlier than usual. At her normal dinner time she is just not having it. It’s dinner time and she wants her food. Her meowing turns into a straight up temper tantrum of yowling and running through the house. My friend’s new partner decides that I’m abusing my cat. Several attempts of telling them that no, the cat is just a drama queen food lover that can tell time, don’t work.
Sighing, I pick up my clearly abused cat, hold her like a baby, smother her in kisses while she purrs loud enough for the entire room to hear, and appease both her and the newbie by giving her a second dinner.
