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Eight To Four Reasons To Leave Her Alone

, , , , , , | Working | May 17, 2024

[Colleague #1] finishes work at 4:00 pm.

Colleague #2: *Pissed* “Is she sleeping with the boss or something? She’s always leaving early!”

Assistant Manager: “Yeah, I keep bringing it up with [Manager], but he tells me to drop it.”

Me: “No, she always gets here before 8:00 am. We just don’t see her working until we get here.”

In fact, most of them casually stroll in sometime after 9:00 am.

The manager (for whom [Colleague #1] works directly) goes away for a trip, leaving [Assistant Manager] in charge.

Assistant Manager: *To [Colleague #1] with a sneer* “You can’t leave before 5:00 pm. You’re not getting away with that with me.”

Colleague #1: “Okay, let me go and talk to our CFO and see about overtime rates. I work from 8:00 am until 4:00 pm. I manage my time well and get all my work done.”

Assistant Manager: “You’re salaried! No overtime rates apply!”

With perfect timing, the manager calls from overseas, and I gleefully transfer the call to her. The best thing about a fairly open-plan office is that you can hear everything from the reception desk.

Colleague #1: “I’m so glad you called. [Assistant Manager] is insisting that I stay until 5:00 pm, with no overtime pay or reason mentioned. Have you got a particular task requiring me to stay?”

She pauses and then hands the phone to [Assistant Manager].

Colleague #1: “He wants to talk to you.”

She kept to her eight-to-four!

Time To Segregate Out The Racists!

, , , , , , , | Right | May 17, 2024

My African-American coworker is working in the produce section. An older customer — and I mean old, like ninety years or so, but still quite spritely for his age — goes over to him.

Customer: “Boy, where are the rutabagas?”

Coworker: “Please don’t call me ‘boy’, sir. And the rutabagas are at the back, over there.”

Customer: “Those are potatoes, boy! What, they ain’t got no potatoes in Africa? It’s all coconuts over there, ain’t it?”

Thankfully, my manager is nearby and has overheard.

Manager: “Sir, first, the potatoes are next to the root vegetables, so he is correct. Second, if you make one more racist remark, I will ban you from this store.

Customer: “It was a joke! You people are all way too sensitive these days!”

Manager: “Sir, your generation had a collective fit when Rosa Parks sat down on a specific part of a bus. I think we’re doing just fine.”

Upper Class Does Not Mean Having Class

, , , , , | Right | May 17, 2024

I used to work as a server in a very high-end restaurant. During my time there, I learned from the other workers how to spot an actual wealthy person from someone who was either pretending or exaggerating how rich they were.

In my restaurant, we regularly had business leaders, A-list celebrities, and political figures all dine there. Usually, these people would be dressed in normal or business-looking clothes, would not draw attention to themselves, and did not want to cause a fuss. They wouldn’t always be friendly, but they would usually tip well.

Then, we got the other side (Z-list celebrities, reality stars, trust fund kids, influencers, YouTubers, etc.), who would normally show up wearing fancy clothes and expensive accessories. They would be rude, arrogant, and entitled, and they’d demand obscure things. Then, they would frequently yell, scream, or demand free things, all the while bragging about how wealthy they were. These were the nightmare customers we had to deal with.

One day, I had a group of regulars arrive at the restaurant. These five guys were all local businessmen who were all very wealthy thanks to some very successful ventures. However, none of them came from wealthy families, and they never forgot their working-class roots. They were some of our favorite customers as they were always super polite and friendly and tipped amazingly well. Whenever they brought their families, they always made sure that everyone thanked us and that they were well-behaved.

This day, they showed up with a new member, and I immediately got some pretty serious “exaggerating wealth” vibes from him. He had all the tell-tale signs: expensive watch and clothes, loud and expensive sportscar, designer shades, and a really superior air about him. In contrast, his friends wore ordinary-looking clothes and drove mid-range cars and SUVs.

Almost immediately, their new friend set about being a jerk and began demanding off-menu items. He was derogatory and rude, and when we couldn’t accommodate his requests, he then began demanding to know about the quality of the ingredients. From there, his requests just became ridiculous as he was demanding his food be cooked to particular specifications, and then he started yelling that he wanted his food cooked in front of him to “make sure you don’t screw it up!”

Thankfully, his buddies immediately began clapping back at him and told him to knock it off! Their new buddy clearly hadn’t been part of this group for long. Usually, these five would talk quietly about their lives, sports, or whatever normal stuff they liked. The new guy started loudly bragging about his wealth, all the expensive holidays he was going to take, how important he was, and all the things he could apparently afford. His friends were clearly embarrassed by him, and I heard them frequently telling him to quiet down. Every time I came to serve or check on them, he would have some rude remark or criticism to share.

Later on, another regular of ours arrived. This one was also well-liked by the staff. You wouldn’t think it to look at him, but he was extremely wealthy and successful. He and his wife came into the restaurant a few times a week, and they were always a delight to serve. The moment they came into view, the new friend began scowling at them like they were a bad smell. He then whistled at me (another thing servers REALLY hate) to come over.

Me: “Yes, sir?”

Rude Guy: “Can you seat those people away from our table, please?”

Guy #1: “[Rude Guy], what for? They’ve done nothing wrong.”

Rude Guy: “Just do as I say, or I’ll have your job!”

Guy #2: “What the h***, man? Stop being so rude!”

Rude Guy: “This is supposed to be a top-class restaurant for people who can afford to be here!”

He looked over toward the couple, who looked slightly amused at this.

Rude Guy: “Just because you have a voucher or some kind of gift card for this place, it does not mean you should be here.”

The whole table looked utterly appalled at this guy, and at least one of them clearly wanted to hit him! Suddenly, one of the group got a look of recognition on his face, and his eyes went wide in shock!

Guy #3: “Holy s***! Isn’t that [Billionaire]?”

Guy #1: “You’re right, it is! Wow. I didn’t even recognize him! That’s awesome!”

Rude Guy: “What?!”

Guy #4: “Dude… that’s [Billionaire]! He owns [Tech Company]!”

Rude Guy: “No, no, no… That’s impossible!”

Guy #1: “Nope, last I checked he can definitely eat here!”

Rude Guy: “But… but…”

He was trying to think of how to say, “But he looks poor!”

Guy #2: “Are you f******* serious? Not everyone who has money likes to show it off! Now, can you please keep quiet and stop making an idiot of yourself?”

Immediately, I went to our regular, who looked very amused at this whole thing.

Me: “Mr. [Regular], I really apologize about this. It was completely unacceptable. I will make sure your meal is comped today!”

Regular: “Do not comp my meal today. You guys work hard, and you deserve every cent! Some people don’t seem to understand that money doesn’t equal class!”

He gave a pointed look at the rude guy, who visibly shrank in his chair.

You Are One Hair-Width Away From Being Arrested

, , , , , , , | Right | May 17, 2024

I’m a male with a full head of super curly hair thanks to a strong Greek ancestry. It’s a family joke that our family genes are the reason why people think Medusa had snakes for hair. I also happen to work at a library.

A few years ago, while I was at work, a lady complimented me on my outfit, which I accepted graciously. (I was dressed in business attire and admitted that I looked dapper in it.) She then proceeded to stick her whole hand into my mass of hair. I froze for a moment, absolutely gobsmacked.

Lady: *Snootily* “Oh. You use [Product].”

Me: *Coldly* “You try getting a brush through this monster without detangler. Now get your d*** hands out of my hair.”

The lady went from zero to a hundred in the blink of an eye and screamed for a manager. As this was a library, her voice seemed extra loud in the quiet environment. Everyone nearby looked up to see what was going on. She tried to remove her hand, but the curls snagged, so of course, she came away with a few strands of my hair while I yelped in pain.

My manager came at a run just in time to see this woman rip her hands out of my hair and my head being yanked with it before she was free. He ignored the woman, who was still yelling.

Manager: “Oh, my God, [My Name], are you all right?”

Lady: *Yelling over him* “No, I am not all right! Your employee just swore at me!”

Manager: “I wasn’t asking you. And of course, he did. He’s perfectly allowed to, after what I just saw you do.”

The lady sputtered in shock at the sheer gall of a lowly employee being allowed to swear at the all-important patron.

Then, [Manager] did the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard: he gave her a glorious dressing-down. By the time he was done, the lady was absolutely red in the face and speechless as this quiet-voiced man told her in no uncertain words what a lowly person she was.

He finished up by informing her that she was now banned from the library.

She finally just spun on her heel and left without another word.

We wrote up an incident report. [Manager] was very familiar with his patron (for all the negative reasons), so her leaving wasn’t a problem since he could look her up via her library card information.

[Manager] explained that everything was on the security video, and he planned to call the police since what the lady had done qualified as assault and battery. He was explaining that I would be fully in the right to file a report with them over this and gently advising me that I should, considering how boldly she had done it, when two police officers came in.

The woman had called the police on US! I think my emotions were more tangled up than my hair because I just burst out laughing hysterically and couldn’t stop.

[Manager] showed them the security footage, and I went through with pressing charges once I could stop laughing long enough to do so.

When all was said and done, my manager told me that I could go home for the day if I wanted to which, after a moment of hesitation, I accepted. I promptly went home and washed my hair three times.

Not only is it violating to have someone’s hand shoved up to the wrist in your hair, but you don’t know where the hair or the hands have been. What if my hair had lice? What if she didn’t wash after doing heaven-knows-what in the bathroom?! I was just so grossed out.

A reminder to everyone: DO NOT TOUCH PEOPLE WITHOUT PERMISSION.

When They Say The Quiet Part Out Loud, It’s Easier To Dodge Their Bullets

, , , , , | Working | May 17, 2024

I am interviewing for a relatively senior position that I am uniquely qualified for thanks to my knowledge of some more obscure programming languages. The interviewers are two men.

Interviewer: “Are you married?”

I’m thinking that we’re moving on to the more “personal” part of the interview.

Me: “Yes, I am.”

Interviewer: “Are you taking birth control? We’re not in the business of financing employee pregnancies.”

Thankfully, the other interviewer looked as horrified as I did and ended the interview right there and then.

I got a phone call later apologising and asking me to come back, but I refused, stating that it was a big red flag that someone with that attitude toward women got to that senior position in the company in the first place.