(One of my friends needs to have her blood drawn for a medical analysis. My friend wears a lot of piercings on her face.)
Me: *to my friend when she gets out* “Was everything okay?”
Friend: “Oh, yes! But something funny happened.”
Me & Girlfriend: “What?”
Friend: “The nurse saw my face, and still asked me if I was afraid of needles.”
(I work in the souvenir shop at a museum. Aside from sales, our responsibility is to be knowledgeable of everything inside the museum, both exhibits and the products we are selling, which isn’t hard if you make the effort. Generally, everyone I work with is enthused by the museum theme and knows a lot about it but in the last year or so my line manager has been hiring people don’t know anything about what we do and don’t want to learn, which is pushing down targets and satisfaction. One day one of the recent hires and I are serving a group of people at the tills and I overhear the following exchange.)
Coworker: “Hi, how can I help?”
(Coworker begins ringing through the customer’s goods.)
Customer: “My daughter wants to know if she needs to buy batteries for this products or if they are included?”
Coworker: “I don’t know; I’ll just ask my colleague.”
(Coworker refuses to acknowledge large obvious ‘batteries not included’ signage.)
Coworker: *to Customer* “I’m so sorry, I’ve only been here three months!”
Customer: “What do you mean? You work in a toy shop don’t you?”
Me: *pointing to battery information signage* “[Coworker], it’s right here. Batteries not included.” *to Customer* “Did you want to by some batteries with this today?”
Customer: “Yes, please!”
(I hand batteries to my coworker; the transaction goes through and the customer departs.)
Coworker: *to me* “Wow, you’re really brainy. How do you know so much about products?!”
Me: “We’re supposed to. It’s our job.”
(This isn’t the only example. Another one of our coworkers who used to work with her has been working with us for over a year. When I supervise them I frequently get tales about management ‘being mean’ to them; not allowing them to have access to drinking water, for example. It turns out management caught both of them leaving open cups of drinking water right near electricity outlets, putting the whole workplace at risk, and they construed this as an attempt to deny them human rights. I shouldn’t have had to explain the risk to 30-somethings but not only did they not get it, they told me it was ridiculous.)
(We’ve had a little accident with a five-year-old who has wet himself. He’s crying quite a bit as his mum tries to sort him out. We have a cleaner sorting out the mess. After he is tended to, he and his mum come out and see our manager glaring at them. He speaks to the boy first.)
Manager: “You should be ASHAMED OF YOURSELF! HAVE YOU NO SELF CONTROL, YOU ANIMAL?!”
Mother: “Excuse me; that’s my son. He’s only five!”
Manager: “AND HAVE YOU ANY PRIDE, WOMAN?! BRINGING AN UNDISCIPLINED MAGGOT INTO MY SHOP, PISSING EVERYWHERE. GET OUT NOW, BEFORE I HAVE BOTH OF YOU ARRESTED!”
(The mother looks horrified as she rushes her son out of the store, while our manager follows her out, screaming louder with every sentence. After they leave, he addresses us.)
Manager: “That is how you handle white trash. The lowest most despicable vermin of our society. In future, if you ever see people like that again, you have my permission to drag them out.”
(I’m too petrified to speak, but am eyeing the door and considering just leaving and never coming back. The feeling seems to be hanging on everyone’s head, but a head supervisor is the first to speak.)
Supervisor: “I may as well pack my bags now, then.”
Manager: “What? But you’re my best!”
Supervisor: “I also have a maggot who also wets himself. Yes, I said it. WETS HIMSELF! I hope your mother wasn’t too harsh on you to think it is all right to scream at a five-year-old for an accident. I’m off!”
(This is what broke the silence and we all voiced our disapproval before leaving. The manager sputtered out an attempt at back-pedaling, but it fell on deaf ears. He had to call HR and explain why he needed replacement staff, and according to the other management, got a stern talking to from his manager, who just so happened to have a son around the same age as the boy.)
(I just turned 21 a few days ago and so my mom and granny decide to take me with them to spend a weekend in Louisiana, to go to a few of the casinos there. I have a current driver’s license, but it dates to when I was 17 or 18 and has “UNDER 21 UNTIL [Date three-to-four days ago]” in red letters in the upper right hand corner. At the first two casinos we go to, they just looked at the ID and let me enter and sign up for their perks and the like, but the third one goes a little differently than we planned. Having gone through the song and dance twice before, I’ve already got my ID card in my hand because I already know what to expect.)
Security Guard: “May I check your ID?”
Me: “Sure thing; here it is.”
(I hand it to him and was expecting to get it back after a few seconds after he verified that I was 21, but NOPE!)
Security Guard: *handing my ID back* “Sorry, can’t let you in.”
(All three of us, almost at the same time, speak up about the decline.)
Me: “What?”
Mom: “And why not?”
Granny: “Excuse me?!”
Security Guard: “It says he’s under 21.”
(My mom and granny are both about to speak when I look at them, non-verbally telling them to let me deal with it.)
Me: “Excuse me.” *I hold the ID and point to the date listed under the “UNDER 21” notice which, as I stated before, was a few days ago* “It also say until [Date], see. ‘Under 21 until [Date].’”
Security Guard: “Sorry, but I can’t let you in with an ‘Under 21’ license due to the law.”
Me: “Excuse me, but I went to both [Casino #1] and [Casino #2] without an issue. Can you get your supervisor here, please?”
Security Guard: “He’ll tell you the same thing, but fine, if you want to waste my time!”
(He pulls what I presume to be an in-line mic and says what I can only guess to be a code for assistance. Afterwards, he motions to my mom and granny.)
Security Guard: “You two can go in, but he has to stay out here.”
Mom: “That is my SON! If you’re not going to let him in, I’m not going in!”
(He just releases a bit of a huff and says more code into the mic, and after a few moments the supervisor comes… followed by a police officer.)
Supervisor: “What seems to be the issue here?”
Security Guard: “He’s trying to get in but has an ‘Under 2’1 license and these two are claiming to be his mother and grandmother to try to get him in.”
Mom: “We aren’t ‘claiming to be’ anything!”
Supervisor: *to me* “Can I see your ID, please?”
(I hand him my ID and quickly I see the supervisor narrowing his eyes before dismissing the police officer.)
Supervisor: “Did you even bother to see his date of birth?”
Security Guard: “No, why should I? It very clearly says that he’s under 21.”
Supervisor: “It says he WAS under 21 until about a few days ago! His 21st birthday just passed!”
Security Guard: “Then why is it still there?!”
(At this point the supervisor just shakes his head and begins to escort my mom, granny, and me into the casino room and towards the sign up area for player cards. After we sign up and/or update information, he takes our player cards and walks me over to one of the machines that checks point balance and perks. He slips my card into it and then starts entering some codes and does the same for my mom’s and granny’s cards.)
Supervisor: “There you go. In addition to each of your birthday bonus and rewards — happy birthday to all three of you, by the way — I added another $21 in bonuses for the hassle. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other things I need to do.”
(I don’t know what the “other things” were but when I had to leave the area about 30 minutes later to use the restroom the original guard was gone and replaced with a new one. A quick flash of my player card and I was back in the area without problem.)
(I’m at my primary physician’s office, waiting for my annual checkup.)
Nurse: “Let’s get some basic measurements before you see the doctor!”
Me: Okay!
(All goes well until…)
Nurse: “Now, do you remember approximately how much you weigh?”
Me: “…”
Nurse: “If you don’t remember or don’t know, we can weigh you!”
(Isn’t accuracy or making sure I don’t lie the whole point of taking these measurements AT the doctor’s office?)
