I work on a construction site as an admin — not one of the physical laborers but in the office. I’m also about as white as one can get before they start to glow in the dark, so most people assume I only know English. I actually speak four languages, and I’m working on a fifth.

I am sitting at my desk while our safety officer is doing a welcome orientation for some of our new employees. They are currently taking a break for the safety officer to address something else. I have just introduced myself, and they are standing near my desk conversing in Spanish, gesturing at a map on the wall as if that’s what they’re talking about.

Employee #1: “I bet she likes her hair pulled. I’d give it a good yank.”

Employee #2: “No, she’s probably boring — on her back, doing nothing.”

Employee #1: “No, girls like her are too wound up. They gotta let it out.”

I stand up, timesheets in hand.

Me: *In English* “Okay, guys, I need you to fill these out and turn them in on Friday before you leave. Any questions?”

Employee #1: “Uh… No English?”

Me: “Your entire safety orientation was in English.”

Employee #2: “Okay, okay, thank you.” *In Spanish* “Don’t be dumb.”

Me: “Any questions?”

They take the paperwork and begin gesturing at different things on the paper, but they are actually trying to guess how big my nipples are by relating them to coins.

Me: *In Spanish* “There are women on site who speak Spanish, too.”

Both employees stopped dead and turned a deep red. When the safety officer returned, I told him what had happened. He stopped the orientation and sent the two employees out immediately, informing their supervisors that they would not be working on our project.

My boyfriend and I are out for dinner. It’s a special occasion for us because it’s not some place we can normally afford. We give each other “Happy First Anniversary” cards and make the most of the evening as we know it’ll be a while before we can afford a place like this again!

Boyfriend: “Can we get the check, please?” 

Waitstaff: “Actually, your bill has been paid for this evening. You’re all set!” 

Boyfriend: “Wait, what? Seriously? By whom?”

Waitstaff: “That woman over there.”

They point to an elderly woman sitting close by.

Boyfriend: *Waving her over* “Thank you so much! Would you like to join us for coffee?”

She politely declines. On our way out, we stop to talk to her for a minute and ask her why. 

Old Woman: “Oh, I was married for forty-six years. My husband passed, but today would have been our anniversary, and here you are celebrating your first on the same day we would have celebrated our fiftieth! And in the same restaurant! It was a sign. Go, be happy, and never… ever… take a moment with each other for granted!”

We’ve taken her words to heart ever since.

Our office introduced casual Fridays, but then they became very strict and descriptive of what was okay for it, sucking all the joy out of it. However, there was no maximum dress level.

One Friday, all my business casual appropriate attire was dirty. None of my lower-standard clothes were good enough (based on previous “constructive comments” from management), so I just said, “F*** it,” and wore my best suit and tie.

I had a dentist appointment that morning, so I was two hours late.

I showed up two hours late, in a suit, on a casual Friday. Everyone assumed I was interviewing for a new job. The rumors swirled. I coyly denied that I was interviewing.

But I wore a suit every Friday from there on out.

Eventually, I got tired of their corporate “culture”, and when I showed up in a suit, I really was interviewing, and they suspected nothing.

A customer storms in and interrupts me talking to another customer. 

Customer: “Is my order ready yet?”

Me: “Sir, I am talking to this customer and—” 

Customer: “Yes, but is it ready?”

Customer I Am Serving: “It’s okay, check on his order. He seems to be in a rush.”

Customer: *Looking at his phone* “It’s order [number].”

Me: “That order came in two minutes ago.” 

Customer: “I just sent it from the parking lot.”

Me: “That’s impossible. Even our quick print orders can take an hour. Also, the PDF you’ve emailed us to print looks quite large.” 

Customer: “It’s an English textbook.”

Me: “How much of it did you want printed? There might be some copyright issues if—”

Customer: “All of it.”

Me: *Opening the PDF* “This is a 482-page textbook. We can’t print an entire copyrighted textbook, and even if we could, we couldn’t do it in the time it takes you to send the order from the parking lot.”

Customer: “Fine, I’ll get a coffee and come back.” 

Me: “No, sir, we can’t—”

Customer: “I’ll be back in fifteen!” *Leaves* 

I am left just staring at the door as he rushes out.

Customer I Am Serving: “Maybe just print the textbook for him; sounds like he really needs it. I don’t think he understands English.” 

Related:
The English Impatient 

This story reminds me of a time I attempted a joke with a customer.

I was sixteen, working as a cashier at a computer store. A man came through my line with a T-shirt that read, “One by one, the penguins steal my sanity.” He was in a good mood, so I decided to play along. I pointed at his shirt, gasped, and spoke in what I thought was clearly a joking tone.

Me: “The same thing happened to me! But no one believes me except for my friend deep inside the earth!”

The man’s eyes went wide, and he backed up a couple of steps. I immediately realized my mistake and dropped the act.

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry. I was just going along with the joke on your shirt.”

The man looked down at his shirt and started laughing.

Customer: “Oh, my gosh, I forgot I wore this today!”

And that is how I learned to let customers start joking interactions first, not the other way around.

Related:
Never Joke With The Customers… Ever!, Part 8
Never Joke With The Customers… Ever!, Part 7
Never Joke With The Customers… Ever!, Part 6
Never Joke With The Customers… Ever!, Part 5
Never Joke With The Customers… Ever!, Part 4