Your Employment Is History

| Winnipeg, MB, Canada | Job Seekers

(I am renewing my daughter’s passport. My daughter used to be a cashier for a well-known American chain of stores that had famously opened with much fanfare in Canada, and just as famously closed two years later after failing spectacularly.)

Employee: “I’ll need your daughter’s employment history for the last two years.”

Me: “Well, she used to work for [Store], but — heh, heh — it’s closed now, of course.”

Employee: *dead-eyed stare* “I still need the store’s address and phone number.”

Me: “Um, I have no idea what the address or phone number would be, and I can’t look it up, because they’re closed.”

Employee: “Look, you need to put SOMETHING there.”

Me: “…”

(I was able to remember the address, and my daughter still had the phone number saved on her phone, so I gave them the information they wanted. I still don’t know what they expected to do with it. I would have done just as well to make something up.)


Muffin Flop

| PA, USA | Bad Behavior, Bosses & Owners, Food & Drink

(We head into a little cafe for breakfast. In the bakery display case next to the cash register is a basket full of muffins.)

Me: “I’ll take a coffee, and a blueberry muffin.”

Waiter: “We don’t have blueberry muffins.”

Me: “Oh, well, chocolate chip, or whatever those muffins are.”

Waiter: “What muffins?”

Me: “The ones in the case here.”

Waiter: “Those are just display.”

Me: “Oh. Wow! They look real!”

Waiter: “Well, they are. We got them in this morning from the bakery.”

Me: “Wait, you got fresh muffins on display but not for sale.”

Waiter: “Yeah, we take them home at the end of the day.”

(At this point, I think I’m being trolled, so when I see a supervisor come in, I pull her aside.)

Me: “Excuse me; I tried to buy a muffin earlier…”

Supervisor: “We don’t sell muffins.”

Me: “That’s what the employee said, but I was confused because your bakery case has muffins in it.”

Supervisor: “Those are display muffins. We get them in every day.”

Me: “But you don’t sell them?”

Supervisor: “No. Don’t go leaving another Yelp review complaining. I’m sick of everyone angry about us not having muffins.”

Me: “Maybe don’t display them, then?”


Self-Surgery Not Recommended

| Warner Robins, GA, USA | Coworkers, Health & Body

(One of my wisdom teeth is starting to break through my gums, and the resulting pain and soreness has me somewhat distracted most of the morning. At lunch, I run to the pharmacy and pick up a tube of numbing gel, only to find when I get back to my desk that it has to be actually cut open.)

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], you wouldn’t happen to have a pair of scissors in your desk, would you?”

Coworker: *jokingly, as he hands them over* “I don’t know, can you be trusted with this tool?”

Me: “Man, I’m just trying to get this stupid wisdom tooth to stop giving me grief.”

(He looks at me with brows raised, and then I realize that I hadn’t actually mentioned that I’d gotten anything for my tooth.)

Me: “Oh, Christ, no, I meant to open this gel, not—”

Coworker: “I was starting to wonder if I should’ve handed you those!”


Plasma Charged

| UT, USA | Bad Behavior, Bigotry, Bosses & Owners

(A few days prior to this, I had donated plasma. It’s similar to donating blood, but sometimes things go wrong when they return your cells to you, causing bruises. In my case, I have a hematoma that is close to three inches across due to a problem with the machine. Heading into the grocery store, in short sleeves due to the warm weather, I tromp around just picking up a few things I needed. As I’m doing this, I notice that a particular employee in a shirt and tie is following me around. Turning to look at him, I smile and greet him before heading off. I’ve picked up a couple sodas, some snacks, and noodles, when I turn to head up front. Picking a cashier, I start to check out, but notice that the girl’s taking a good bit longer than usual, trying to figure out prices and what not. It dawns on me then, based on my own prior experience in retail, that she’s stalling me. A few moments later, a pair of police officers enter the store, and talk to the man I saw earlier before turning and walking in my direction.)

Officer #1: “Sir, could we speak with you?”

Me: “Is something wrong?”

Officer #1: “We just need to speak with you, outside.”

Me: “Okay, let me pay for—“

Officer #1: “No, you need to come outside, sir.”

Me: “Going to explain to me why, or just be vague about it, Sergeant?”

Officer #1: “We don’t want to cause a scene here…”

Me: “No one is making a scene. I’m here shopping, about to pay, and wondering why the h*** you’ve been called.”

Manager: *the guy in the suit* “We don’t want your kind here! You need to leave.” *turning to the officers* “Make this leave!”

Me: “Woah, now, MY kind? What the h*** is that supposed to mean?”

Manager: *pointing at the bruise* “Addicts like you!”

(Looking to my arm, I chuckle and then hold up the card I was about to pay with. It’s a Visa card that the plasma places give you when you donate. They pay you for donations.)

Me: “Addict? Try plasma donor. However, if you don’t want me here, I’m certain that the officers will agree that if I pay, and then leave, that there’s no wrongdoing.”

(At this point the manager reaches out, grabbing my arm and pulling before giving me a hard shove, hard enough to knock over some displays as I stumble. Picking myself up, I look to the officers.)

Me: “You witnessed it. I was just assaulted. I wish to press charges.”

(The officers look to me, then back to the manager, reaching out to take him into custody. All the while he’s screaming about how they’re taking an addict’s side and not the right person. He was still yelling as I left, my bags in hand. Outside, the second officer noted that it probably would be a good idea if I avoided that store in future. Especially after plasma donations.)


Animal Retraction

| OR, USA | Family & Kids, Pets & Animals

(I work as a cashier in a grocery store. I’m always in check stand #1 so I have a particularly good view of the entrances. It is common for people to bring animals into the store (usually dogs, but occasionally cats or even a rat!) even though the store includes food preparation areas, and therefore non-service animals are not allowed by law. When I see someone with an animal that doesn’t look like a service animal, I page my manager to let her handle the situation. I’m known among my coworkers for my accuracy and observation skills. Until this happens…)

Me: “I just saw a woman come in and it looks like she had some sort of animal in her jacket.”

Manager: “Uh oh.”

Me: “It was all wrapped up and had some sort of yellow hat covering its head. I couldn’t tell what it was. Maybe a cat?”

Manager: “Okay, I’ll go check it out. Thanks.”

(Several minutes pass and then my manager comes back smiling.)

Manager: “Was the woman with the animal that you saw with another woman?”


Manager: “That was a baby in her jacket.”

Me: *blinks* “Well, in my defense it looked brown and furry.”

Manager: *laughs* “Okay, well, I won’t tell her what you said about her baby.”