Guy: Spam with Cheez Whiz. That’s my new diet. –Funayama, Greenwich Village
Fat Slob: I think I love you, babe. Ooh, that tattoo is cute. “Rot in Peace.” –Post Office, Bensonhurst
American Man: Do they know in Africa who Helen Keller is?
African Woman: Yes…didn’t she have a television show a couple of years ago? –Forest Hills
It's cool that you hate your eardrums and have to blare music. I'll just blare mine and we'll both be deaf in a few years. It's cool that you eat constantly, usually foods that have strong smells that make me feel nauseated thanks to my Adderall. It's cool that you feel the need to constantly swivel your chair around and mess with the cord that connects my computer to our network -- lord knows I don't mind downtime.
But you know, I draw the line at you looking up insane-ass bullshit online, taking notes on said insanity when we're supposed to be working, and leaving those notes on my desk.
Particularly when they are things like "if the amnesty passes we may as well erase the southern border," and "Harvard study says by 2030 Afro-Chicanos will be dominant race, Spanish primary language."
It's not like I'm a Filipina with Spanish-speaking relatives on the West Coast or anything. It's not like my relations are common knowledge around the office or anything. It's not like I'm not SERIOUSLY CONSIDERING SPEAKING NOTHING BUT SPANISH TO YOUR OBNOXIOUS NUTBAR ASS FOR THE NEXT YEAR OR SO JESUS H WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU INSANE CONSPIRACY NUT AUGH
I am fucking talking to HR about you tomorrow. Because no. (Sorry for the capslock of rage.)
(Note: I am a teenager.)
Me: “Hey, what can I help you with today?”
Customer: “I have these gift cards, and I would like to exchange them for cash.”
Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I cant do that. It’s store policy, as gift cards have no monetary value.”
(People are starting to line up behind the customer, and they are starting to get noticeably agitated, having to wait.)
Customer: “Excuse me, do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?”
Me: “Not even a clue.”
Customer: “My father owns this store! Now give me my money, or I’ll have you fired!”
(The owner of the store is in the back, so I call him out.)
Me: “Boss, your daughter’s here to see you!”
Boss: “Daughter? I don’t have a daughter.”
(The customer’s face is growing red, and the people behind her start to laugh. I can tell she wants to run away, but she’s in too deep. My boss comes to the front to see what’s going on. My boss is an Indian man in his 60′s.)
Boss: “What are you talking about?”
Me: “This lady right here.”
(The white customer in her early 20s dips her head, and runs out of the store.)
Boss: “Maybe she forgot where her dad’s store is?”
(I’m helping a couple of regulars with finding ingredients for a new recipe. One of them is blind, and has his guide dog with him. Another customer stomps up to us while I am showing them different spices.)
Customer #1: “Excuse me! I need your help.”
Me: “Okay, ma’am, but you’ll have to wait until I’m done helping these gentlemen.”
Customer #1: “No, I need help now!”
Me: “Then if you’d like, I can call one of my coworkers over and they can help you.”
Customer #1: “I don’t want you to call someone else.”
Me: “Then you will have to wait.”
(I turn back to the regulars. The rude customer shoves her way between me and them, stepping on the guide dog’s tail in the process. The dog gives a shrill yelp.)
Me: “Ma’am, please! You could have seriously hurt his dog!”
(Customer #1 shoves the dog aside with her foot.)
Customer #1: “I’m the customer! You have to serve me!”
Regular Customer: “Miss, she has explained to you that she’s busy, and has offered to call someone else to help you. Don’t shout at her, and please don’t abuse my husband’s guide dog.”
(Customer #1 turns to him. The regular customer has an obvious Italian accent, but he isn’t difficult to understand.)
Customer #1: “Get out of here, you d*** foreigner! Don’t come back until you learn some f****** English!”
Me: “Ma’am, he is speaking perfect English. Now if you don’t calm down, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
(Customer #1 shoves me. I lose my balance, and fall. Immediately, the regular customer, who is a well-known boxer in the local area and quite strong, literally picks up customer #1 and carries her out of the store. She screams profanities and slurs at him the whole way. His partner helps me up, and I pay for their spices myself. I also get the guide dog a large steak bone, for when she is out of her harness. The best part? We found out later that the rude customer was wanted for armed robbery, and that she was arrested that day!)
(I have very long hair, which I wear in a tight bun per regulation, and I am quite obviously female. A customer walks up to me, but my back is turned.)
(I continue my work, thinking she’s talking to a coworker nearby.)
(I still don’t pay attention, so the customer taps my shoulder.)
(I turn around.)
Me: “How can I help you?”
(The customer is clearly surprised.)
Customer: “Sorry! Can you tell me where [item] is?”
(I point the customer in the right direction. Later on, I’m cleaning one of the registers. The same customer walks up to me.)
Customer: “Sorry about before. I really thought you were a guy.”
Me: “That’s okay.”
Customer: “You should really doing something about that hair. It makes you look too masculine.”
Me: “What do you mean?”
Customer: “You look like one of those metal heads.”
Me: “Since when do metal heads wear their hair in buns?”
Customer: “Never, but you still look like one!”
This week, I realised something. TWO colleagues have this week booked off. TWO. I thought my manager said that this was not possible, due to how small the team was now. All that rigmarole for NOTHING.
Last week, a new manager started at the shop, so thankfully I don't have to deal with him anymore. But I'm already having problems with this one. For the past week I've been trying to book more annual leave for the beginning of October. He said yeah, that's fine, there's no one booked on the calander for that week. YES.
More like a big fat fucking NO.
I went up to the office yesterday and my name wasn't down on the calendar for that week. I asked him if it was still okay. He said yes. Today, I had another look. Another colleague has now got their name down for the week that I had asked for! He wasn't in today. Tomorrow I am going to demand that I have that place, because I asked for it first and he said it was all fine and dandy, I'd got that week off, blah blah blah, but he's just gone ahead and put someone else down for that week. I'm sick and fed up of being given the run around, or walked all over, or ignored, or put at the bottom of everyone's priority.
This is two family holidays that I've been given a hard time over. I hate my workplace.