Because of the poor decisions my parents to let toddler-me roughhouse with a family pet without proper supervision, I have a phobia of dogs.
I also have a coworker with a service dog.
I figured that this would be okay. I’d been working with my therapist on my phobia, and everyone knows service dogs are well-trained. I didn’t want to bother my coworker at all since it’s my issue and not hers, so I kept a table between us at all times and very deliberately tried to tell myself the dog didn’t exist.
Then, my coworker collapsed by the copy machine, and her service dog — being A Very Good Boy — ran to get help like he had been trained.
What my coworkers saw was the biggest, beefiest man in the entire office look up, shriek like a little girl, and magnificently leap onto the top of his own desk…
While the tiniest Pomeranian you have ever seen runs out from around the corner, sits very neatly in front of his desk, and barks very, very softly at him.
My coworker got the help she needed, Gilbert The Good Boy got treats, and everyone else in the office got me a little stuffed dog and friendly ribbing.
We are less than an hour from opening the doors to our big box store on Black Friday. There is already a sizeable line outside and according to a security guy three people have already been escorted off the lot for getting aggressive and trying to jump the line.
My new coworker, who has only been here a few weeks, has spent about half an hour making a series of displays of the doorbuster items look nice.
Me: “Is this your first Black Friday?”
Coworker: “Yup!”
Me: “Yeah, don’t bother with those displays. Just leave them all out.”
Coworker: “Oh, I was just looking at the guide and—”
Me: “—yeah, ignore that guide. It was written by some corporate office lackey who has never worked a retail floor in their life. Just get them into a position where the customers can grab at them and move on.”
Coworker: “But I’m almost done.”
Me: “These displays will look like this for precisely half a second after those doors open before the customers will barrel into it like a zombie horde. One year we had an old lady literally thrown into the display because of the momentum, so if you need to spend time on the display then design it so that whoever gets thrown into them sideways in about half an hour doesn’t get a crushed skull.”
Coworker: “Oh… oh my god!”
Me: “Welcome to retail!”
There were no airborne grandmothers this year, but we did still have to separate a fight over the TVs and one customer decided that if they couldn’t have the deal then no one could and tried kicking other customer’s TV boxes until they were pinned on the ground and given a bloodied face by another customer.
I work at a large big box electronics store. It is Black Friday, and I am controlling part of the line before we open. One of the customers in line tries to get my attention.
Customer: “Help me! I feel faint.”
I rush over, expecting a medical situation.
Customer: “Please just let me go in and pay so I can get to a doctor!”
Uh-huh… does she really think that’s going to work? I call over my manager so that he can talk to her. After she makes the same claim and does a bit of “I feel weak” acting.
Manager: “Ma’am, they told me you were in need of medical assistance. I’ve got an ambulance on the way.”
Customer: Suddenly freaking out. “The line is too long! It’s all your fault for making me feel sick!”
The customer then spots me again.
Customer: “This is all your fault you fat b****! If you would have just let go to the front of the line this would all be over!”
At that, my manager kicked her out saying none of us would tolerate that kind of abuse. The good news was that as soon as the line saw us use security to force someone to leave they were a lot more well-behaved!
And for those wondering, of course, my manager did not call for an ambulance. If we really needed one there were a few EMTs waiting for a call in their truck outside the store because sadly they always ARE needed for genuine medical emergencies on Black Friday.
It’s back in the early 2000s and I work in a beauty and cosmetics store. We are getting over the Black Friday sale, which is finally beginning to calm down.
I have spent the last half an hour helping an older woman customer reacquaint herself with make-up. As she told me:
Older Woman Customer: “My late husband didn’t need me to wear it, and I quite agree! But my daughter’s wedding is coming up and I need to add a bit of zing to my step!”
We’re about to close with the older customer still in the store (but almost done) when a young woman runs up to the doors.
Younger Woman Customer: “Are you closed?
Me: “We were just about to close.”
Younger Woman Customer: “Oh my, you’re so pretty! No wonder you work in a make-up store!”
Me: “Uh… thank you?”
Younger Woman Customer: “I just need a few things! Can I please just come in and grab what I need?”
Me: “You know what you need?”
Younger Woman Customer: “Yes! Wow, your eyes are so gorgeous! You are truly beautiful! But yes, I do know what I need.”
Weirded out by all the compliments (I have never EVER been complimented on my very ordinary brown eyes) but still with a few seconds until closing I let her in.
She immediately goes to the foundations and starts browsing through them. She is doing so in a casual manner; nothing about her lack of urgency implies she knows what she needs.
I leave her to it for now and go back to ringing up the older woman customer.
Me: “As I was saying, I think you’re all set! This should be everything you need to look amazing on the wedding day! Just follow those instructions from the pamphlet I gave you and—”
There is a snort laugh from the younger woman customer that causes both of us to look in her direction. Whereas at the door she looked sweet and friendly, she is now giving off full “mean girl.”
Younger Woman Customer: “Sorry, but seriously? I didn’t know old people got married.”
My parents passed away a few years back, and I inherited their home. (It’s not an even trade; I’d take my parents back in a heartbeat.)
I got moved in with all the necessary paperwork taken care of. Suffice it to say, I was still in the grieving stage and therefore very much not up to snuff in the patience or social departments.
So, when someone knocked demandingly on my door, I had my resting b**** face on upon opening it. A woman was standing on my doorstep with an expression on her face somewhere between, “What did I just step in?”, and, “Silence, peasant!”
Woman: “You need to get out.”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Woman: “My family owns all the property on this road. You do not have my permission to move in. You will get out, and you will give me this building and your property. You have exactly one week to comply.”
The house is big (two stories) and beautiful, and it sits on three acres of land. The value of the property was at or just below six digits at the time.
I laughed in her face.
Me: “My father bought this property in 1964, and with my parents having passed away, I have inherited this property. You don’t own s*** here. Here’s my counter: get the h*** off my property.”
Woman: “You will show me respect! I’m a federal agent!”
She then flashed a card — not a badge, a card, which looked like a store membership card.
I laughed in her face again.
Me: “I don’t owe you any respect. You’re a liar, you just impersonated a federal agent, and you’re more than welcome to try to take legal action. Be forewarned, though: my doorbell camera caught you and what you said. Once again, get the h*** off my property, before I call the cops!”
Woman: “Maybe I’ll pay you a little visit tonight. Maybe I’ll come into your home and teach you some manners.”
Yakety Sax about 6 hours ago
Pomeranian Mania!
Because of the poor decisions my parents to let toddler-me roughhouse with a family pet without proper supervision, I have a phobia of dogs.
I also have a coworker with a service dog.
I figured that this would be okay. I’d been working with my therapist on my phobia, and everyone knows service dogs are well-trained. I didn’t want to bother my coworker at all since it’s my issue and not hers, so I kept a table between us at all times and very deliberately tried to tell myself the dog didn’t exist.
Then, my coworker collapsed by the copy machine, and her service dog — being A Very Good Boy — ran to get help like he had been trained.
What my coworkers saw was the biggest, beefiest man in the entire office look up, shriek like a little girl, and magnificently leap onto the top of his own desk…
While the tiniest Pomeranian you have ever seen runs out from around the corner, sits very neatly in front of his desk, and barks very, very softly at him.
My coworker got the help she needed, Gilbert The Good Boy got treats, and everyone else in the office got me a little stuffed dog and friendly ribbing.
Yakety Sax about 6 hours ago
Half-Baked Holiday Returns
A customer comes in two days after Thanksgiving and tries to return a Pumpkin Pie.
Me: “I can’t accept this as a return.”
Customer: “Why?”
Me: “It’s half eaten.”
Customer: “I know!”
Me: “So you can see why I can’t take it back.”
Customer: “But I have too many leftovers! Can’t you just sell it as a half pie on the shelf?”
seanfear about 6 hours ago
oooh surely i do
Yakety Sax about 6 hours ago
Black Friday: First Time?
We are less than an hour from opening the doors to our big box store on Black Friday. There is already a sizeable line outside and according to a security guy three people have already been escorted off the lot for getting aggressive and trying to jump the line.
My new coworker, who has only been here a few weeks, has spent about half an hour making a series of displays of the doorbuster items look nice.
Me: “Is this your first Black Friday?”
Coworker: “Yup!”
Me: “Yeah, don’t bother with those displays. Just leave them all out.”
Coworker: “Oh, I was just looking at the guide and—”
Me: “—yeah, ignore that guide. It was written by some corporate office lackey who has never worked a retail floor in their life. Just get them into a position where the customers can grab at them and move on.”
Coworker: “But I’m almost done.”
Me: “These displays will look like this for precisely half a second after those doors open before the customers will barrel into it like a zombie horde. One year we had an old lady literally thrown into the display because of the momentum, so if you need to spend time on the display then design it so that whoever gets thrown into them sideways in about half an hour doesn’t get a crushed skull.”
Coworker: “Oh… oh my god!”
Me: “Welcome to retail!”
There were no airborne grandmothers this year, but we did still have to separate a fight over the TVs and one customer decided that if they couldn’t have the deal then no one could and tried kicking other customer’s TV boxes until they were pinned on the ground and given a bloodied face by another customer.
Yakety Sax about 6 hours ago
Faint Are The Chances Of This Actually Working
I work at a large big box electronics store. It is Black Friday, and I am controlling part of the line before we open. One of the customers in line tries to get my attention.
Customer: “Help me! I feel faint.”
I rush over, expecting a medical situation.
Customer: “Please just let me go in and pay so I can get to a doctor!”
Uh-huh… does she really think that’s going to work? I call over my manager so that he can talk to her. After she makes the same claim and does a bit of “I feel weak” acting.
Manager: “Ma’am, they told me you were in need of medical assistance. I’ve got an ambulance on the way.”
Customer: Suddenly freaking out. “The line is too long! It’s all your fault for making me feel sick!”
The customer then spots me again.
Customer: “This is all your fault you fat b****! If you would have just let go to the front of the line this would all be over!”
At that, my manager kicked her out saying none of us would tolerate that kind of abuse. The good news was that as soon as the line saw us use security to force someone to leave they were a lot more well-behaved!
And for those wondering, of course, my manager did not call for an ambulance. If we really needed one there were a few EMTs waiting for a call in their truck outside the store because sadly they always ARE needed for genuine medical emergencies on Black Friday.
Yakety Sax about 6 hours ago
Pretty Savage
It’s back in the early 2000s and I work in a beauty and cosmetics store. We are getting over the Black Friday sale, which is finally beginning to calm down.
I have spent the last half an hour helping an older woman customer reacquaint herself with make-up. As she told me:
Older Woman Customer: “My late husband didn’t need me to wear it, and I quite agree! But my daughter’s wedding is coming up and I need to add a bit of zing to my step!”
We’re about to close with the older customer still in the store (but almost done) when a young woman runs up to the doors.
Younger Woman Customer: “Are you closed?
Me: “We were just about to close.”
Younger Woman Customer: “Oh my, you’re so pretty! No wonder you work in a make-up store!”
Me: “Uh… thank you?”
Younger Woman Customer: “I just need a few things! Can I please just come in and grab what I need?”
Me: “You know what you need?”
Younger Woman Customer: “Yes! Wow, your eyes are so gorgeous! You are truly beautiful! But yes, I do know what I need.”
Weirded out by all the compliments (I have never EVER been complimented on my very ordinary brown eyes) but still with a few seconds until closing I let her in.
She immediately goes to the foundations and starts browsing through them. She is doing so in a casual manner; nothing about her lack of urgency implies she knows what she needs.
I leave her to it for now and go back to ringing up the older woman customer.
Me: “As I was saying, I think you’re all set! This should be everything you need to look amazing on the wedding day! Just follow those instructions from the pamphlet I gave you and—”
There is a snort laugh from the younger woman customer that causes both of us to look in her direction. Whereas at the door she looked sweet and friendly, she is now giving off full “mean girl.”
Younger Woman Customer: “Sorry, but seriously? I didn’t know old people got married.”
(cont’d)
Yakety Sax about 6 hours ago
Definitely Gonna Sleep With One Eye Open
My parents passed away a few years back, and I inherited their home. (It’s not an even trade; I’d take my parents back in a heartbeat.)
I got moved in with all the necessary paperwork taken care of. Suffice it to say, I was still in the grieving stage and therefore very much not up to snuff in the patience or social departments.
So, when someone knocked demandingly on my door, I had my resting b**** face on upon opening it. A woman was standing on my doorstep with an expression on her face somewhere between, “What did I just step in?”, and, “Silence, peasant!”
Woman: “You need to get out.”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Woman: “My family owns all the property on this road. You do not have my permission to move in. You will get out, and you will give me this building and your property. You have exactly one week to comply.”
The house is big (two stories) and beautiful, and it sits on three acres of land. The value of the property was at or just below six digits at the time.
I laughed in her face.
Me: “My father bought this property in 1964, and with my parents having passed away, I have inherited this property. You don’t own s*** here. Here’s my counter: get the h*** off my property.”
Woman: “You will show me respect! I’m a federal agent!”
She then flashed a card — not a badge, a card, which looked like a store membership card.
I laughed in her face again.
Me: “I don’t owe you any respect. You’re a liar, you just impersonated a federal agent, and you’re more than welcome to try to take legal action. Be forewarned, though: my doorbell camera caught you and what you said. Once again, get the h*** off my property, before I call the cops!”
Woman: “Maybe I’ll pay you a little visit tonight. Maybe I’ll come into your home and teach you some manners.”
(cont’d)
FreyjaRN Premium Member about 6 hours ago
True. Love at first sight is what I reserve for kittens.
Macushlalondra about 5 hours ago
Yes, very much. Why is he bothering her while she’s trying to work?
dflak 13 minutes ago
With some people, the alarm bells go off immediately.