Pointy Well Taken

| Working | November 29, 2012

(A coworker recently banned a young woman from attending a weekly story time at the library because she was constantly being disruptive.)

Coworker: “This sucks. I feel so bad.”

Me: “But you have the rest of the customers to consider.”

Coworker: “I know, but I still feel bad about kicking her out.”

Me: “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few… or the one.”

Coworker: *staring* “Did you just Star Trek me?”

Me: “…Yup.”

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The Insular States Of America

| Working | November 29, 2012

Me: “Good evening. Can I just get a pack of Lucky Strikes please?”

Cashier: “Sure, do you have any ID?”

(I hand the cashier my British driver’s license. It shows the date of birth as DD/MM/YYYY, as is common all over Europe.)

Cashier: “I’m sorry, but I think this is fake. There aren’t 23 months.”

Me: “That’s how they print dates in Europe. You need to switch the day and month around.”

Cashier: “No way! I can’t accept foreign IDs anyway.”

Me: “That’s okay, I was actually born here, so I have an American one as well. Let me just go get it from my car.”

(I go get my US passport from the glovebox and show it to the cashier.)

Cashier: “What’s this?!”

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Ye Olde Bigotry

| Working | November 29, 2012

Me: “My name is Guinan Chan. But, just write ‘G Chan’; it’s easier.”

Employee: “Guinan?”

Me: “Yes, but just use my first initial.”

Employee: “I’m sorry, but Guinan?”

Me: “Yes, it’s Mandarin. I realize that sounds unusual here.”

Employee: “I’m sorry, but you need an English name.”

Me: “…Pardon?”

Employee: “You need an English name.”

Me: “Okay… how about Pennebrygg?”

Employee: “…”

Me: “…with two Ns and two Gs.”

Employee: “…”

Me: “It’s English. It dates back to at least the 14th century.”

(My order arrived addressed to ‘G Chan’.)

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Tapes One To Know One

, | Working | November 29, 2012

(I frequent a fast food chain location because it’s near my home. I’ve made friends with an employee just a couple years younger than myself who works there. However, he’s very flighty and has gotten in trouble because of it. I go in one night and notice he’s not working.)

Me: “Hey, [coworker of his], where’s [my friend]?”

Coworker: “Oh, he’s on suspension. They caught him one night letting a customer sit on the register counter and eat food. Have it on tape and everything.”

(I order my food and stand aside just as a customer comes in, who greets the coworker as his sister. As the fry cook completes my order, I watch the coworker grab several fries, make the customer a burger plus three other items and puts them all in a bag. He’s handed the bag and walks out, but no money is exchanged. The coworker eventually hands me my own bag as if nothing happened.)

Coworker: “Have a nice night!”

Me: “So… everything on tape, huh?”

Coworker: *smile slowly fades*

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On A Wing And Nay-Sayer

| Working | November 28, 2012

(Every now and again, my family and I love to get chicken wings from our grocery store’s deli. We’ve had no problem with the workers in the past; most of them know us personally, but this time, a new worker is behind the counter.)

Me: “I’d like a large container of buffalo wings.

New Worker: “Sorry, but we have no more large containers.”

Me: “Aren’t those the large buckets back there, or do they have no lids?”

New Worker: “NO! We have no more containers!”

Me: “…Okay. Well, how about putting them in one of the meal-to-go boxes? That would hold them.”

New Worker: *sighs* “FINE! You really want to pig out, don’t you?”

Me: “Um, this is for my family of three. We get these as a treat every month or so.”

New Worker: “Whatever. How many wings are in a large?”

Me: “Usually, it’s around fifteen.”

New Worker: “That can’t be right. You just want to get more wings for the same price!”

Me: “The wings are priced by weight, not by the number of pieces.”

New Worker: “No! You will get ten wings and pay for ten wings.

(The new worker grabs a PAPER BAG (not a meal box), roughly throws in ten wings, weighs them, and prints out the price label, which lo and behold, prices the wings by weight.)

Me: “…Thanks.”

(I finished my grocery shopping and I made sure to report the worker. The manager said that she had been on thin ice for awhile, but insulting and treating a loyal customer in the manner that she did was the last straw. I haven’t seen her since.)

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