Sometimes a customer will get mistaken for an employee at a store. It’s an honest mistake, usually ending with someone apologizing and then returning to shopping.
But a lot of these people below couldn’t own up to their own mistakes – and they were completely disrespectful about it. Which, as you’ll read, can create a HUGE scene.
If you want to read more, check out the source link at the end of the article.
Happened a few years ago. Friend and I decided to hit up Gamestop to see if there was anything worth buying. I just happened to be wearing a polo shirt and had a lanyard/ID around my neck because I had just left the office.
This kid comes up to me in the xbox section and asks me if a certain game is available for PS3. I went ahead and answered him in the affirmative, yes, this title was available for PS3. He simply says “get it for me”.
I pause and look down at this kid, “Excuse me?”
“Get it for me, I want to buy it.”
I tell him “How about… you go get it for yourself, the shelf is right there.” and point off into the distance.
I start to turn away and he forcefully demands again that I get him this damn game.
I went ahead and kneeled so that I was eye level with him and told him “If you want that game so bad, walk your little butt over there and pick it up, I’m not your servant.”
Kid runs off and gets his mom, my buddy and I are having a good chuckle at this, we get our games and head off to stand in line. While we are making our way through the line here comes the kid again with his mom in tow.
Mom is throwing a fit at the front saying that some employee told her child to “walk his butt over to a shelf and get a game himself” and she demands that said employee is fired.
Right about now my buddy and I are stepping up to the register to pay for our games while mom and her kid are looking for said “employee”. The kid looks up at me and goes “that’s him!”
Mom just explodes on me with a ton of vitriol, she’s going to have me fired and blah blah blah. Meanwhile my buddy and I are cracking up, he’s telling me crap like “oh no you’re going to get fired dude” or asking the person ringing us up if we can have my employee discount before I’m terminated. This circus is only causing me to laugh harder which in turn is making her even more angry.
In the midst of me on the verge of tears from laughing, this lady losing her crap, my buddy goading this woman on further and screwing with the Gamestop employees asking for my employee discount, the manager comes up front and asks what’s going on.
Lady explains how I was rude to her son and refuse to do my job, how I used foul language at her child and I was very unprofessional, she wanted me gone etc etc. Manager looks at me, looks back at this lady, at me, back at lady and tells her “Ma’am, he doesn’t work for Gamestop”.
My buddy then speaks up “So I take it that’s a no on his employee discount?”
I work as a POS (point-of-sale) technician. My job is essentially driving around servicing pretty much any company that doesnt have its own dedicated tech team.
Today I had a call at a grocery store because one of the tills serial ports stopped working. This story begins with me just at the point where Ive unplugged everything and have the computer pulled out from its compartment when I pop up from under the counter and see some lady unloading a cart onto the conveyor belt. Shes on her phone. I give her a little wave and say oh hey this lane is actually closed sorry for the inconvenience but she continues unloading the cart. I point at the register closed little pyramid thing thats sitting on the conveyor directly in front of her slowly growing pile of groceries. She gives me a little hand wave shoo gesture and rolls her eyes but continues unloading. All bets are off.
I make a show of slamming the computer down in front of her. I unscrew the case, pop it open, remove the screwed up PCI card… Shes done unloading the cart and looking antsy and watching me. By the time I have the stuff plugged back in and turn the computer on shes off the phone.
Her: Whats taking so long? Me: I told you this lane was closed. You should try the other lane Her: I already unloaded my cart, Im not waiting in line again (as if she waited in line to begin with) Me: Well this till is going to take about 45 more minutes. Youre welcome to wait it out Her: This is ridiculous. Where is your manager Me: In his office, in [major city where were based]. I dont work here. Im fixing the computer. Its going to take a while
She stands around for a good 10 minutes while Im installing drivers until a manager walks by and she flags him down. She tells him about how rude I was being and how I was making her wait and etc. [continued…]
Manager: Ok well Id be happy to help you at the customer service desk
Her: Finally some service
She loads her cart up again and walks it over to the customer service desk with a smug little grin on her face. Like, you didnt win anything. There were open registers the whole time. You literally wasted your own time arguing with me, then did the exact thing you were complaining about (having to move registers) while feeling proud of yourself.
I work for a university police service as a security officer. My uniform consists of a white shirt with grey slacks and a blue striped tie. I also carry standard effects like a badge, radio, knife, handcuffs, flash light, etc. On this particular instance I wasn’t working so I threw my badge in my pocket.
I rolled into a grocery store where employees wear brown slacks and green polos and started putting together a dinner for the evening. While I’m doing my thing I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see a woman in her mid 40’s who asks me “where are the pretzel buns?”. After a second of wondering how she mistook me for an employee I indicated the general direction of the breads and told her she could head that way to find what she was looking for. Noticeably dissatisfied with that answer she says “do your job and come find them for me.” At that point it went from simple misunderstanding to annoying entitlement.
I told her I wasn’t going to help her and when she asked why I responded with the truth: “I have no obligation to help you because I’m not an employee here and I choose not to help you because I don’t feel like it.” Apparently that was an unsatisfactory response and my “lack of initiative” was something my manager was going to hear about. I was “obviously lying”, so she doubled down and started yelling and involving other customers. “Look! This piece of crap employee won’t help me.”
People other than myself started to be bothered by this woman’s attitude, so I made the decision to end the discussion as quickly as possible. I pulled out my badge and said “ma’am, this is your only warning. I’m an officer with [university] police. Back off now!” She stops for a moment, mutters something I didn’t catch, then walks away still steaming from the ears.
Less than five minutes later guess who shows up with what looks like the oldest employee she could find. (The old guy HAS to be the manager, right?). She moans “your employee is pretending to be a police officer!”. Old guy is a cashier who recognizes me from previous late night visits and greets me with a “what the heck?” look on his face. He turns to the woman and says “he’s definitely not an employee and I’m pretty sure he IS a cop!”.
She just wasn’t having it. “Fine!” she grunts. “I don’t care. Don’t help me.” She turns to the cashier “all I wanna know is where are your freaking pretzel buns?” He looks at her and delivers the best news I’d heard all night. “ma’am, we don’t sell those.”
I’m always at Home Depot picking up odds and ends. I cannot believe the number of times I’ve overheard employees giving a customer wrong, and sometimes dangerous, information.
For example, customer wants help hooking up his new hot tub. Orange aproned idiot is explaining to customer how he just needs this standard, non fused disconnect (meant for air conditioners) and “some of that yellow wire.” At this point, I had to step in.
Me: Sir, do you know what amperage your tub is rated at?
Customer: (shuffles the papers he was smart enough to bring with him) Uhm… This says 40 amp minimum. 50 amp max.
Me: That’s what I thought. If you use that “yellow wire,” the best you can hope for, is that you’ll constantly be tripping the circuit. At worst, you could burn down the house.
I then direct him to the correct size wire and fused disconnect, and ask him if he has a permit for the electrical work. That’s when Orange Apron, who has been following us and muttering, finally finds his voice.
OA: He doesn’t need a permit! As a homeowner he can do whatever he wants!
Me: Yeah, no. In this state, even homeowners are required to get permits and inspections by the local authority having jurisdiction. In this case, it’s the city of planning department, for all electrical work.
OA: Oh, yeah? How would you know?
Me: (looks down at shirt with electrical contractor I work for on it) yeah, you’re right. I’ve only been doing this for 20 years. What would I know? (Turns back to Customer) Look, you can listen to him if you want, it’s your house and life.
OA: He’s just trying to scare you into hiring him to do it for you!
Me: Actually, I don’t have the time for side jobs. And besides, I don’t have a contractor’s license, just a journeyman’s. I can’t pull permits. Have a nice day.
As I’m walking away, the customer puts his items down, and tells OA that he won’t be needing them after all. The next day, I get a call from my boss. It seems he received two phone calls that day. The first was from a manager at Home Depot, who was complaining that I was “poaching jobs in our store.” (After telling him what happened, he ended up calling them back and asking if it was their policy to endanger lives and property with incompetent advice). The second was from the customer, who now wanted someone from our company to come out and do it right.
I decided to finally buy a portable heater for my bedroom. I stopped at a hardware store and was crouched down in one of the aisles looking at the various heaters on the bottom shelf.
“Hey I need to find the bathroom fittings” came a voice from behind me. I clearly heard what the woman said, but assumed she was talking to a shop employee somewhere behind me.
“Uhh (clears throat) hellooo bathroom fittings…” she repeated, using that entitled tone.
I was dressed in suit and tie, so surely, SURELY she wouldn’t be confusing me for a hardware store employee. I kept looking at the heater in my hands.
“HEY” she tapped me heavily on the shoulder twice, so I looked back over my shoulder at her. I saw a mid-thirties mother, dressed like she’s going to meet the president, inch-thick layer of make-up covering her face, holding her two-year-old on her hip. And she looked pissed.
“Yes?” was all I got out, not expecting the physical contact.
“Are you freaking deaf? Where are the bathroom fittings?”
I immediately decided for some reason that there was no way I was going to tell her I didn’t work here. I don’t know why, but I seemed to think she didn’t deserve to know it if she wasn’t going to treat someone with basic human respect.
“Well that’s rude.” I said.
That pushed her over the edge. She started yelling, “What’s freaking rude is you ignoring me when it’s your stupid JOB to help me! Are you going to tell me where the bathroom fittings are or do I need to go find someone who isn’t an idiot?”
“Why would I help someone who’s screaming at me? You have no idea how to treat people properly, do you?” I said, getting annoyed.
After more yelling, she threatened to get “my freaking manager” onto me and that I’ll “lose my job” not helping a customer. People around were starting to stare.
I gotta admit, something in my head snapped and I upped my volume about 10x.
“Hey be my guest idiot, get the manager, see if I care. Just seriously stop yelling at me! GO AWAY!”
She stood there silent for a couple seconds in disbelief that I said that, then stormed off yelling and cursing that I’ll be fired, etc. All the while her child was visibly stressing out at all the yelling happening right in his ear.
So I go back to looking at heaters, trying to get my adrenaline levels back to normal. I choose one, and after browsing for another few minutes I head to the cashier at the front. And standing there in line is Mrs. Moron and her kid. There’s nobody behind her, and I walk up and take the next place in line, wondering if she’ll notice me. When it’s her turn, she goes up to the cashier and unloads her stuff, but it’s fairly noisy in the shop so she can’t hear the cashier ask her if she was paying by cash or card. She got flustered and told him twice to repeat.
I couldn’t help myself.
I leaned over and said “CASH OR CARD, ARE YOU DEAF.”
She got startled, looked over and recognized that it was me, the “unhelpful employee” and started yelling at the cashier that I was the worst store assistant she’s ever met, that I should be fired for giving this store a bad name etc.
The cashier looked at me, standing in line with heater and wallet in hand, and said “Ma’am he’s a customer…?”
“NO NO HE WORKS HERE AND HE REFUSED TO HELP ME…” she trailed off, realizing that everything about me indicated my doesn’t-work-here status.
She swiped her card, grabbed her stuff and left without another word. I had a laugh with the cashier after explaining what had happened.
Sorry there’s no big climax to this story – I just felt like venting!
Different type of story but the same idea.
I was walking to work around 8:30am in a small eastern US town. Relaxed dress code at work so I was wearing jeans and some random t-shirt, had my purse and a plastic bag with my lunch, and was smoking a cigarette. I was 25 at the time, small frame so I was regularly mistaken for being younger.
As I’m passing a bakery, 20-30 high school kids come out and start walking right ahead of me. Since I’m smoking and the wind is blowing forward, I decide to wait for traffic to cross the road to get away from the students. Mrs. Teacher lady must have smelled the smoke and looked back to see me stopped, waiting to cross the road.
She basically explodes. “I can’t believe you would try to pull that! You know how I feel about smoking and on a field trip none the less! When we get back to school you’re going straight to detention!“. So now I’m confused, a few students turn to look at me then they’re confused, and apparently the teacher’s confused why I’m smoking.
“Uhm. I’m not in your class.” Traffic opens up and I attempt to cross, she stops me.
“That’s not the point! Smoking is against school rules no matter what homeroom you’re in!”
“No, like, I don’t go to your school at all. I’m 25. I’m going to work.”
Silence. Amazingly hilarious awkward silence. Finally a student pipes up, “Yeah, no, I’ve never seen that girl before.” A few others agree. Teacher still doesn’t speak.
“I’m, uhm, I’m gonna cross the road now.”
Teacher like half nods and mumbles yeah, a few students snicker and laugh. I give them the peace sign because I’m still half awake and hadn’t processed what just happened.
I swear I have an “ask me to help you” look because I get this on a regular basis.
I’m at Wacky Mart with my wife and one year old daughter. We stopped in for a few items we needed for dinner, one of them being marshmallows. I’m wearing sandals, cargo shorts, and a green tshirt with a skull on it– not any of the colors that the store employees wear.
Find the marshmallows and we move on our way. Then I go back because I forgot to get brown and white sugar. So I take my daughter with me back to the baking aisle.
A woman who had been in the aisle previously is still there. Her shirt is bedazzled and she’s got one of those short hair cuts where the hair in front is longer than the hair at the back. Also, she’s literally wearing a purple sparkle fedora. Because of this we’ll refer to her as PF, for Purple Fedora.
So I’m getting this sugar right and she comes up to me and tells me she needs me to get something for her. I look at the ten pounds of sugar in one hand and the 20 pounds of baby in the other arm and tell her, “sorry I’ve sort of got my hands full here.”
PF: I saw you help that other woman. Now help me.
Me: My wife, you saw me help my wife.
PF: Well I’m more important than her because I’m a customer.
Me: What makes you think you’re more important to me than my wife? You’re a stranger that I’ve never met.
PF: Because I. Am. A. Customer.
Me: So. Am. I.
PF: No, you work here. Now put that baby down and help me.
And then I just walked away to very unmotivated threats about managers and being fired and calling corporate.
Fast forward to the self-checkout and she is in line behind us. We go to the next available register and I hear her asking the guy in charge of the self-checkout, “Does that man with the baby work here?” to which the guy wearing the khaki pants, blue polo, and yellow store vest says, “No. Why would you think he works here, he’s wearing shorts and a skull tshirt.”
She turned visibly red, and my wife and I laughed hysterically for the remainder of our time checking out.
This event took place at a local liquor store when I was home on leave from the Military. It was my first birthday home in years so I was planning on having a great night with my old high school friends. The “old gang” was back together which called for celebratory endeavors.
I was perusing the items in the store when I noticed an unused crate, I asked the security guy if I could borrow it while I was shopping. Strange look but ultimately he said yes. I had at least 6 different bottles in the crate. I was looking for something else that was requested when a lady probably in her late 40’s comes up to me.
Lady: Excuse me, I was looking for name of gin do you have it here?
Me: What?… I don’t actually work here…. They don’t have that brand here. If I may make a suggestion…
Conveniently the tonic was on the wall next to us. I handed her a bottle and showed her where the gin was. She thanked me and went on. Someone else came up to me and asked a random question about the absinthe that the store has. I get into a conversation about absinthe, what it actually is, why it’s illegal in some places, and if makes you hallucinate or not. The entire time people are coming up to me asking me questions on where to find this, suggestions on what kind of wine they should get, drink suggestions, (yes I had a bartender app on my phone), etc. The last thing was someone came up to me asking about good rum drinks.
My personal favorite for those who care. Capt Morgans, with Malibu rum, and grenadine on the rocks. I call it a shipwreck.
Apparently that guy was friends with the owner, he then told the owner about the awesome service he got from the new employee. Then this conversation took place with the owner.
Owner: So you are the one everyone has been talking about.
Me: What do you mean?
Owner: everyone has been saying what a good employee I have working here, and how helpful I’ve been. I didn’t know how to respond because I’m the only one working today.
Me: still holding the crate Well, as you can see I have some experience in this field.
Owner: I can see that. Too bad you don’t actually work here. You’ve been an excellent help.
The whole time the security guy was laughing every time a customer would come to me for assistance.
At final checkout I got 10% military discount, and a 15% employee discount.
I used to frequent a marina/fishing pier in my area and because of that I’m very familiar with the place, the employees, and how everything runs. Now I’m an educated professional but don’t dress like it on a fishing day (more tank top and gym shorts style).
So I’m filleting some fish I’d just caught on the publicly available cleaning table, clearly marked as for customers and about 50 ft away from the building with signs all over it marking where to drop off fish for cleaning and prices for it. A boat pulls up behind me and a few teenage boys jump off and go inside, (I’m assuming) their mom steps off it and pats me on the shoulder.
Rude Lady: Do you want to actually help me?! The fish are right there.
Me: Umm, what?
RL: Ughh. The fish are right there.
And pointed down into her boat, where piled and not in any form of container are about 10 trout, maybe 25 lbs total, the marina would charge $10 to clean them.
Me: Okay? They can help you over there.
RL: They have a line, you don’t. I’m not waiting.
Me: Well they’re pretty fast and it doesn’t even look too busy.
RL: You just don’t want to do your job do you? I’m not waiting.
Me: Well they’re pretty fast and it doesn’t even look too busy.
RL: You just don’t want to do your job do you? I’m not waiting.
And tosses $30 at me before walking inside. Not gonna complain, I pulled the trout off the boat and start to clean them. She comes out a few minutes later with the boys and makes snide comments about me the entire time I’m cutting her fish “This is why you’re all going to college” “Ugh she cut off too much of that one” “Why is it so expensive, I’m sure y’all could do that just as well” Well that last comment actually got one of the kids to speak up and inform her that not only did they think they were going to be doing it, but it should only be about $10 and pointed over to the marina’s tables.
RL: You overcharged me! It’s only supposed to be $10.
Me: I didn’t tell you a price, you picked one and threw it at me, but also I don’t work here and don’t go by their prices.
RL: And why would you do any of that and take my money knowing I thought you worked here?!
Me: Well you paid me. Your fish is done. Hope you boys enjoy college as much as I did.
A few weeks ago my fiance was coming to pick me up from my gym, which sits above one of those hair salons where they just style your hair and don’t cut or color it or anything. He texted me that he had arrived so I walked out and beelined for his car, when an angry woman emerges from the salon. I’ll be “Me” and she’ll be “AW”:
AW: “What are you doing??!?! That is MY uber!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Me: “No, it’s not, that’s my fiance…”
AW: “NO THAT IS MY UBER WHAT ARE YOU DOING GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY UBER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU ARE STEALING MY UBER!!!!!!”
Me; “Again, that is my fiance, this is our car.”
AW: “Well he is my uber driver!!!!!!!!! You can just wait for yours!!!!!”
Me: “No, he isn’t.”
So I got in the car and left her in a screaming fit of rage, presumably until her actual uber driver arrived.
I was an employee for a walmart market with a green vest for the uniform. I had unwillingly been dragged into a superstore wally world right after my shift. I had forgotten to take my vest off before entry to the store so I took it off and threw it into the top of the basket. I’m shopping with my mother and my friend when a women storms up to me and demands I stop being a lazy worker and open another register.
I just stared at her and told her I don’t work here, she then proceeded to grab my vest which at this point is underneath 3 purses, and throw it at me telling me just do my job or she’ll get management. I told her to get them, I did however know the manager on shift so when she complained he told her I did not work there I in fact worked another location. She proceeded to berate me and the manager for a few when I promptly flipped out and told her to suck it as I walked away to check out.
I don’t think that manager has ever laughed so hard.
Best part: a couple months later she came to my store asking for a supervisor after treating the service desk employee like crap…. I was the supervisor haha.
She didn’t believe I was the supervisor and proceeded to flip out which led to me calling up my store manager who had her removed and trespassed from the property.
Was just at a gas station, pumping gas, when the lady at the pump across from me sticks her head around and in very broken English asks if I can help her for a second. I speak a bit of Spanish, so I reply in kind. She says she’s having a problem with the credit card reader. I go over, she put her card in backwards and it’s stuck. Easy enough, get it out for her, show her how to put it the right way, she thanks me, I head back to my Jeep and start to put the pump back to find some woman blocking the door.
‘It took you long enough, I’ve waited 5 minutes already, hurry up and pump my gas’. I look over, sure enough, Oregon plate.
‘Sorry miss, in Washington we pump our own gas. If you need help go into the store and talk to somebody that works here’. Well she loses her crap.
‘What the heck? You won’t help me because I speak English? You racist! Go pump my gas or I’m going to get you fired.’
I said ‘ok miss, you’re right, I’m sorry, head back to your car and I’ll be with you in a moment.’ I just jumped into my car and took off. The look on her face when I started my Jeep up was hilarious.
Last weekend I was at a big box home improvement store, looking for components for a little project I was working on. I wasn’t dressed remotely like the staff, and was listening to an audio book with a set of bluetooth headphones, with both earbuds in so I wouldn’t be bothered.
This middle-aged dude starts asking me where some-product-or-other was. He asked twice, significantly louder the second time, and I glanced over at him and said “Sorry, man, I don’t work here.” gesturing at my clothes and the obvious lack of a name tag.
I went back to browsing the shelves, when suddenly I felt my bluetooth headphones ripped from my head. I looked quickly to my right, just in time to see the middle aged guy throw them to the concrete floor with as much force as he could manage. I heard a distinct snap.
Which was appropriate. This is the part I’m not too proud of.
I saw red.
I grabbed the guy by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. Actually snarling, I said: “I told you I don’t work here, you damn moron.” he started to protest so I pushed him harder against the wall/shelf. “You couldn’t get that through your stupid suburban skull though, and now you’ve assaulted me and destroyed my headphones. What you’re going to do is give me all the cash you’ve got in your wallet and pray that it covers the replacement cost. And if you make a scene, I’ll give you something to scream about.”
He’d gone from livid red to pale white. He rummaged, brought out his wallet, and handed over $40. I jammed it into my pocket, snatched up the headphones, and left the store. I got in my car and drove away as quickly as I legally could, eventually pulling into a grocery store parking lot to take several deep breaths. When I got home I had a strong drink, even though it wasn’t even noon yet.
I’ve never been in a fight in my life, aside from horsing around with friends in middle school. Now I’d threatened a dude in a store.
My headphones were fine, though, shockingly.
This past Friday I was at Victoria’s Secret (VS) shopping for undies (5 pair for $28.) I was wearing blue jeans, a white rain coat, and a beige cross body purse. The employees wear all black. Now, if you’ve been to VS, you’d know they keep all their sizes in drawers under each display. So, there I am looking through the drawers looking at the different patterns and colors. I’ll be M for me and CL will be clueless lady.
CL: “Excuse me?” (Quietly)
Me: looks around and sees a woman standing really close to me so I scoot over and keep looking in the drawers.
CL: “EXCUSE ME?!?” (Loudly)
Me: “Oh! Sorry, I……..”
CL: “You should be! You shouldn’t be organizing underwear with all the customers in here! Now that I have your attention, I need this in my size. Do YOU have it?”
Me: “Uh, I don’t work here. I’m shopping just like you.”
CL: “Hmmmph, well how was I supposed to know?”
Me: “Use your eyes next time?”
With that, I had my 5 undies and proceeded to wait in line with the other women ready to pay. CL ends up behind and she’s making loud sighs and groaning at the length of the line, there are two ladies in front of us. So, I get called up first and CL ends up at the register next to mine.
CL’s Cashier: “And, who was helping you today?”
CL: “Well, she (points to me) wasn’t helpful at all!
CL’s Cashier: “she doesn’t work here ma’am.”
CL: “That’s not the point! She was rude when. I asked for help.”
Me: (Finally bought and paid turns to CL) “Maybe if you treated people nicely, then people will be nice back.”
I smiled as big and sweet as possible and laughed my way out of the store.
A few weeks ago I was invited to present an award at a business awards event for large European companies. It was a black tie event taking place on a boat that would tour the River Thames in London.
The event started with the usual champagne and cocktails before moving below deck for dinner. After dinner just before the awards ceremony was kicked off I was walking towards the toilets when I felt someone grab my arm…. Given the environment I presumed it was a friendly acquaintance but as I turned towards ‘the grabber’ he said:
Grabber: “Can you get some more red wine?”
Me: shocked and confused errr no..
Grabber: angrily well why not?
-the whole table is now looking at me-
It’s important to note at this point that I am in full black tie attire. The staff working there are in very different attire and it’s clear who’s a guest and who’s not, or at least I thought so…
Me: “Well… I think you’ve had enough”
Grabber: “I beg your pardon!”
Me: “I think you have had enough red wine” I turn and walk away.
Just then I notice a waiter stood just a couple of meters away. Sensing an opportunity I approached the waiter and started pointing at random tables and talking absolute nonsense just to give the impression I did work there to the Grabber. I finished by turning towards the Grabber (who was still staring at me with an angry expression) and asking the waiter to please get him a glass of water (quietly enough so that the Grabber would think I was asking for the red wine).
I retreated to a spot where I could see the arrival of a glass of water presented on a silver tray much to the bewilderment of the Grabber and the amusement of the rest of the table.
Fast forward 15 minutes and I’ve been announced to the stage to announce the winner of an award. Closest table to my line of sight is, you’ve guessed it the Grabber’s.
His facial expression is one I’ll treasure forever more.
I just recently moved from New York City to a small city in New Jersey because of a job opportunity and found an apartment that was located above a courthouse. What I was informed by the property manager was that a few years ago the courthouse sold the commercial space and his real estate company converted that space into personal residences. So the first 5 floors remained part of the courthouse with its own entrance and from the 6th floor to the Penthouse were apartments.
As you can guess there’s a lot of confusion for first time visitors, jurors, lawyers, etc wandering aimlessly through the residents entrance. On this particular occasion, I was in the gym with shorts, sneakers, and a sleeveless shirt running at a brisk pace on a treadmill when I noticed a middle aged lady (MAL) peak inside. She spends about two minutes walking the whole length of the gym and decides to furiously wave at me to get my attention. The interaction goes like this:
MAL: Hi, do you know which room I can go into to finalize my divorce?
ME: Um…this isn’t the courthouse, the entrance is around the corner. You just went through the residence entrance.
MAL: Can’t you show me to the room?
ME: If I didn’t make it more clear, this isn’t the courthouse, I live in the apartments located upstairs. If you walk outside and turn the corner to the right, you’ll find the other entrance.
MAL: You’re just lazy and don’t want to do your job. I just needed a room number.
ME: Lady, I’m on a treadmill in gym clothes, what makes you think I work for the courthouse?
MAL: Well whatever, you’re no freaking help.
ME: Well I’m not surprised you’re getting a divorce, good luck with that.
I continued on with my jog and the following day made a suggestion to the property manager for a sign to avoid the confusion.
Weve had a longer than usual cold snap and I really wanted some warmer boots, so off to the place where boots and other foot related items are found.
Im crouched down looking at a shelf trying to find my size when a woman steps up beside me and dangles a shoe in my face.
I want this in a size 9.
I pause for a second, and she wiggles the shoe at me.
So I did what any self-respecting person would do. I grabbed a random boot, stood up barely glancing at her, held out it out and said, I want this boot in brown.
Brown, I want these in brown. Do you have it?
Oh, I dont work here.
Well, how was I supposed to know that? I ask.
I I Im wearing a coat and carrying a purse?
You mean, like I am?
What? (as she finally looks at me) Oh, yes. Sorry.
No problem. …So, youre not going to get me these boots in brown?
She laughed, I laughed, the clerk who was behind the woman with a terrified look on her face laughed. Woman got her size nines, and those boots did not come in brown.
Context: I am half Asian, and this story occurred when I was in a pseudo-Asian store that had basically no Asians in it. Random Lady = RL. E = Non-Asian actual Employee
RL: Hello, can you help me with this?
Me: I don’t work here, sorry.
RL: Don’t lie, you people never want to help me!
Me: I’m serious, I don’t work here.
RL: Whatever, can you translate this ching-chong diddly dong stuff for me? (actual quote)
Me: Sorry, I don’t speak that language (truth, btw)
RL: You’re a (bad) worker! I demand to see your manager!
Me: I don’t work here!
At this point I try to leave, but a manager gets there before I can finish buying my stuff.
RL: Can you tell your lazy worker to help me?
E: He doesn’t look like he works here. Do you work here?
Me: No, I don’t.
E: Ma’am, he doesn’t work here. He would be wearing a uniform and certainly wouldn’t be wearing sweatpants.
RL: Why are you helping him not work? You’re supposed to be normal! You’re not a lazy Asian so why are you helping him?
Me: I know I look Asian! But I don’t work here!
The lady ended up getting escorted out by security. I heard it from my car, it was really loud.