Dispar-Age Before Duty

| Working | December 19, 2012

(Note: I am 17, but look very young for my age, especially when I’m standing near my younger brother, who is much taller than me. This occurs while my mother, my brother, and I are being screened at the security checkpoint.)

Security Officer: “[My name]?”

Me: “That’d be me, sir.”

Security Officer: “All right, and how old are you, sweetheart?”

Me: “17.”

Security Officer: *incredulous* “Seventeen!?”

Me: “Yes, sir. Have a look.”

(I hand him my driver’s license and student ID.)

Security Officer: *to my mom* “Is she really?”

My Mom: “Yes.”

Security Officer: “[Brother’s name]?”

My Brother: “Yes.”

Security Officer: “Let me guess: you must be 10, right?”

My Brother: “14, sir.”

Security Officer: “Man! Your family must have some messed-up genes!”

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How To Scare Away Customers

| Working | December 19, 2012

(I am looking through the selection of models at my local games workshop. It’s a very successful chain of stores that sells model soldiers for a miniature wargame. I’m currently looking at a rather gory and explicit undead model.)

Me: “Wow, this guy is pretty gruesome!”

(Note: I’m saying this quietly to myself in an excited tone because I like the model. Suddenly, the manager is right in front of me with a stern look on his face.)

Manager: “Look pal, I can’t have you making disparaging remarks in my store.”

Me: “Pardon?”

Manager: “If a parent comes in looking to buy miniatures and hears you talking about how ‘gruesome’ they are, that could be a lost customer. If I lose customers, I can’t stay open, and that means my 300 regular players have nowhere to play.”

Me: “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. This model is undead. He’s supposed to look gruesome and ghoully, so I was complimenting it. I was going to pick up one myself.”

Manager: “Well, your comments are scaring away my customers, so just be quiet, okay?”

Me: “Well, you’ve just scared off a potential customer yourself!”

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Duplication Is The Sincerest Form Of Flattery

| Working | December 19, 2012

(In high school, I ran my own business doing small illustration projects and selling prints of my artwork at anime conventions. Since we didn’t have a printer at home, I’d make copies at a local print shop.)

Me: “Excuse me? The copy machine isn’t working right. Could you help me adjust the settings?”

(An employee comes over to look. I show him the original and the bad copy.)

Employee: “Hmm… I’m sorry, but we can’t copy that for you.”

Me: “Why not?”

Employee: “It’s copyright law. You can’t make copies of someone else’s picture.”

Me: “I’m well aware of copyright law. But I made this picture myself and need some prints.”

Employee:Sure, you made it yourself. I’m not dumb, kid. This is professional stuff!”

Me: “Thank you. That would be because I am a professional.”

(I hand him a portfolio of my paintings. As he flips through, he starts to blush.)

Employee: “…Let me adjust those settings for you.”

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Much A-Gluten About Nothing

| Working | December 18, 2012

(Note: I have celiac disease, which is a severe intolerance to wheat gluten, but I’m rather timid about it. However, my university’s food court has recently undergone massive training for food handling with regard to cross-contamination, so I decide to take advantage.)

Me: “Hi, can I get a tuna sandwich on gluten-free bread?”

Employee: *annoyed* “Are you really allergic?”

Me: “Yes, I’m extremely sensitive. Thank you for checking.”

Employee: *sighs* “Okay… well, it’s going to take a while.”

(The employee makes a big show out of gathering the ingredients for my sandwich, which are in special containers so as to prevent contamination with normal bread. She is sighing and rolling her eyes all the while. When another customer walks up, she yells to her coworker.)

Coworker: “What’s the big deal?”

Employee: *loudly* “I’ve gotta make this lady a gluten-free sandwich, and it’s going to take forever!”

Coworker: “Ugh, that’s so annoying!”

Employee: “And it’s such a waste of food.”

Another Customer: “What’s the problem?”

Coworker:She has to make a gluten-free sandwich, which is really annoying and takes forever because we have to go in the back and get special ingredients and make sure nothing touches anything. Then, the ingredients go bad because nobody eats them. I don’t understand why people have to be such picky eaters, you know?”

Employee: *to me, sarcastically* “Here’s your sandwich. Have a great day.”

Me: “Thanks. And I’m so terribly sorry for making you have to do your job correctly!”

(I later called the manager to complain, who was very apologetic. He called me back to let me know he fired both employees after the incident. It turns out it wasn’t the first complaint that they’d gotten regarding the very same issue. The worst part about the story? I still got incredibly sick from the sandwich.)

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Citizen Profane

| Working | December 18, 2012

Me: “I’m looking for a copy of Citizen Kane.”

Clerk: “Oh, we keep that in the children’s section.”

Me: “You… keep… Citizen Kane… in the children’s section?”

Clerk: “Well, it doesn’t have any dirty words in it!”

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