One Nugget Short Of A Combo

, , , , | Working | August 3, 2020

I go to pick up some food on my way to work. I have a coupon for a free order of nuggets and I show the cashier. She puts in two orders of nuggets.

Me: “Excuse me, I only ordered one.”

Cashier: “Yeah, but you have to get two to use the coupon.”

Me: “No, it’s a free nugget with any purchase. I’m also getting [item].”

Cashier: “The system won’t let it work, otherwise. Your total is [amount].”

I don’t want to cause a scene, so I pay. When I get to work, I write a complaint online. I include screenshots of the coupon, where it states nothing about having to buy two orders of nuggets. I get a call later on.

Caller: “Hi, this is [Manager] at [Fast Food Restaurant]. I read that you had an issue with a visit earlier?”

Me: “Yeah, your cashier said I had to buy two orders of nuggets to get one free when the coupon is for one free with any purchase. I checked after I left, and there is no mention of the purchase having to have another order of nuggets. I paid for the second, only because she didn’t seem like she’d want to back down.”

Manager: “Let me look… Okay, is it the coupon on the [Company] app?”

Me: “Yes.”

Manager: “Okay, it does clearly say, ‘Any purchase.’ I don’t know why she’d think it had to be another order of nuggets. If you still have your receipt, I can refund you for your order. I could also offer a couple of coupons for free meals.”

Me: “I’ll take the coupons. I can pick them up after work today.”

I’ve only seen that cashier making food now, not at the register.

Pushy Employee Seeking Pushy Woman

, , , , , | Working | August 2, 2020

I’m a petite woman in my twenties shopping in a major hardware store. Although I might not look like it, I have quite a bit of knowledge regarding construction and carpentry, and I actually worked in repair and maintenance in my last job.

Today, I’m looking for a new electronic lock for my front door, and I know exactly the kind I want, but there’s a large ladder in front of the lock kits I’m interested in. It has a huge sign on it saying, “Employees only. Do not touch!” I’m hesitating in front of the ladder, not wanting to be “that customer” and break the rules by moving it. Just then, an older male employee walks up.

Employee: “Can I help you find something?”

Me: “Yes, thanks. I’m interested in the locks behind this ladder, but I can’t reach—”

While I am speaking, the employee easily pushes the ladder one foot to the side so I can get to the locks.

Me: *Laughs* “Thanks! I feel silly for asking for help now since I could have just done that.”

Employee: “You should have done it. I like a pushy woman.”

I give an uncomfortable fake laugh while I try to think of how to respond.

Me: “Umm… I’ll tell my husband you said that.”

Somehow, he is not deterred and launches into a spiel about which lock types are best, while I groan internally. Unfortunately, he is standing between me and the exit, so I can’t just walk off. After listening to several minutes of information I already knew…

Employee: “So, you should really come with me and check out this other lock model that we have on sale, just down the aisle here…”

I really just want to get away, but he spreads his arms out wide and walks toward me as he gestures for me to walk farther down the aisle with him, so I can’t easily sneak past him. I end up following him to the other locks that are on sale. Finally, I see a chance to leave.

I grab the first lock I see off the display.

Me: “Okay, great, this is everything I need. I’m just going to go to the checkout now. Thanks, bye!”

I scurried off towards the checkouts. Before paying for the random lock I’d grabbed, I checked it out and discovered it was a store brand of the same exact thing I had intended to buy, so it actually would work for my door and save me some money. Still not sure if it was worth dealing with Mr. Creepy, though.

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It Takes A Minute To Register The Pain

, , , , | Working | August 1, 2020

The wiring at the gas station I work for is notoriously bad. Any time the weather turns, or even on a day with a particularly stiff breeze, the power flickers. It rarely goes out, but the flickering is enough to force our registers to reset, which takes three or four minutes to finish. However, this can be avoided; if register A is allowed to cycle through its reset before B, C, D, or E are used after a flicker, those others will NOT reset. The problem is, register A is on the other side of the building.

One night, the power flickers off for about three seconds while I have a room full of people wanting cigarettes and a line through our drive-thru window. I am completely on my own as we are short-staffed today, and the other worker is on their lunch.

Me: “Well, this is less than ideal. Excuse me, folks, but I need to run next door really quickly!”

I sprint into the back room to the other side of the store and throw the door open to call over to my supervisor.

Me: “Hey! I’ve got a building and drive-thru filled to the brim! Call me as soon as register A is back up!”

I then sprint back to where I’d been, but as I slow down to turn a corner, I manage to slam my elbow into a metal filing cabinet. However, with the adrenaline, I don’t feel it at first.

Me: “Okay, everyone, good news! They’re gonna tell me when I can run the register again! Give it like, three or four minutes! I’m gonna start grabbing orders, so one at a time, tell me what you’re after! I also need to warn you that I managed to slam my elbow into a corner on the way back up here because I’m just that good. I can’t feel it yet — I’m a little hopped up on adrenaline — so in a minute or two, after I’ve calmed down, I may suddenly screech in pain. Nothing to worry about, though, so please don’t freak out!”

Luckily, from as long as I’d worked there, they all knew me well enough to not mind. I got my call and could calm down and get everyone out of the store. And, yes, about a minute after everything settled down, I screeched in pain because I could finally feel where I’d hit my elbow.

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A Charitable Response To Harassment

, , , , , | Working | July 31, 2020

I’m doing a little shopping in the city with my mom since we have a little time to kill before an appointment. We’re chatting a little and not really paying attention to our surroundings until someone all but jumps in front of us.

Guy: “Hi! My name is [Guy] and I’m from [Charity Organisation]! Do you have a few minutes?”

Mom is a bit startled and wary but still willing to listen.

Mom: “Well, we’ve got a little time to spare, I guess…”

Guy: “Great! Could I have your name, please?”

Mom: “It’s [Mom].”

He writes that down. During the whole discussion, he uses the informal variant of “you,”which in German is mainly used for friends and family but not strangers.

Guy: “So, [Mom], as I said, I’m from [Charity] and we—”

Mom: *Cutting him off* “Before you start, maybe you can save your breath. I know what [Charity] does, but I’m not interested in giving money to some stranger that stopped me in the streets.”

The guy smiles, but it starts to seem a little forced and condescending.

Guy: “[Mom], why don’t you just listen and let me talk?”

He then launches into an extensive spiel about his charity and what they do. During his last sentences, he almost pushes an empty form into my hands.

Guy: “So, now, if you just enter your information and sign here—”

Mom: “Wait a minute. I just told you I won’t give away any cash and that includes not signing any membership application. If you have some flyers or pamphlets, I’d happily take them with me so I could make a donation via money transfer, but I’m not comfortable giving my bank account information to someone I don’t even know.”

Guy: “No, I don’t have any pamphlets. I told you I’m [Guy], so we’re not strangers anymore, right? Now, just fill in your information and sign here, please. Why wouldn’t you want to?”

Mom: “For one, it’s my decision how I spend my money. And besides that, I’ve had bad experiences with a scammer that pressured me into signing a contract when I was younger.”

Guy: “Well, we’re no scammers; we are [Charity]!” *Points to his name badge* “[Mom], it’s really not difficult. You could be really making a difference with your donations!”

Mom: *Getting really fed up* “Look, I’ve repeatedly told you I won’t be signing this. You say you are with [Charity], but anyone could print a badge like yours and claim that.”

The guy tries to speak up again but she raises her hand to stop him.

Mom: “Besides, we’ve got an appointment and need to go now so we’ll be there on time.”

He tried to keep us for a little longer but we left. On our way back, we made sure to take a different route just to avoid running into him again. It’s not like my mom or I don’t want to donate money for a good cause, but if an organisation doesn’t offer pamphlets or accept one-time donations via money transfer, they can’t really expect people to sign a membership form just because someone on the street pushes it at them.

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That’s A Wrap On This Burrito Place

, , , , , , , | Working | July 31, 2020

On my campus, we have a few places to eat. One of these places is a burrito place. It’s pretty good, but I’ve started becoming uncomfortable going because of a few incidents. 

The first incident: I walk up to the guy who’s making my burrito. 

Employee #1: “What would you like today?”

Me: “A burrito, please.”

Employee #1: “Do you want rice and beans on that?”

Me: “Yes, please.”

Employee #1: “Protein?”

Me: “Oh, uh, no protein, please.”

Employee #1: *In a snotty tone* “You know, you don’t have to say please so much.”

I am very self-conscious, so I promptly shut up and barely say anything else for the rest of the order except what I want. 

The second incident: I walk up to a different employee at a different time of day. 

Employee #2: “Hi, what can I get for you?”

Me: “A burrito, please.”

Everything goes perfectly fine while I order; the employee puts my order behind the glass divider within her reach but not within mine. I go to pay for my food with a different employee… and neither of them gives me my food.

Me: “Um… excuse me? Excuse me?”

For a solid minute, I try to get both of their attention so I can get my food, which has been paid for, while they socialize with a different customer. I finally get one’s attention.

Me: “Hi, sorry. Could I, um, actually have my food, please?”

I give a nervous laugh to show I’m joking.

The employee gives me a snotty look and slaps the box into my hand. Nothing spills, but the look she gives me makes me feel completely embarrassed for asking for food that I’ve actually purchased. 

The third incident: my roommate goes to go get a burrito. The — third and different — employee puts rice and beans, no meat, cheese, and lettuce, and begins to close the burrito. Only BEGINNING to close it; that is, she’s folded the wrap over the tiniest amount.

Roommate: “Oh, sorry, could I get sour cream and cilantro on that, please?”

The employee huffed loudly, slapped the burrito back open, flung cilantro on it, squirted too much sour cream on, and wrapped it up as aggressively as she could. I get that you’re tired and want to end the semester, too, but still…

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