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Pour One Out For Our Trucker Brothers

I’m trans, and it’s my first Halloween out as myself. My girlfriend and I (a lesbian couple) go to a pub with some friends, all of us in costume

When we walk in, there’s what appears to be a trucker sitting at the bar with two of his friends. None of them are wearing costumes, at least not that I recognize. My girlfriend and I get a weird vibe from him, like he might have some unkind things to say about me or us.

We get seated at a booth at the opposite end of the bar from the trucker and get on with our night.

We get our drinks, and my fountain pop is flat. My friend who got the same thing says hers was as well. We ask for replacements, and they’re still flat.

We tell the server again, and she seems annoyed with us now. She basically says there’s nothing she can do about it, and we can either drink them or not.

While this is going on, the trucker walks by our table. We make eye contact for a moment (I assume — he’s wearing sunglasses), but nothing happens. A few minutes later, he walks by again and stops at our table.

Oh, no. I brace for the worst.

Trucker: “Sorry to interrupt, but I overheard you talking about the drinks being flat. I took a look at the machine. It should be working properly now. Your server will have new drinks out for you in a minute. Sorry for the trouble.”

It turned out that this trucker was the (female) pub owner — in a very convincing Halloween costume.

I learned two things that night: everyone is full of surprises, and four-inch heels are not fun to walk in.

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They Weren’t Exactly Tickled Pink

Our retail chain was recently bought out by another company. A lot of people were let go in the reshuffle and some of my coworkers are still bitter about it.

It’s Halloween, and staff all around the store are wearing some “spooky” costumes. One of my coworkers has just walked out from the manager’s office as I am starting my shift. My coworker looks angry as he storms past me. My manager sees me.

Manager: “Are you wearing a costume today?”

Me: “Yes.”

Manager: “What is it?”

Me: “Just a simple witch’s hat, and a fake black cat that sits on my shoulder.”

Manager: “That’s it?”

Me: “Yes, that’s it.”

Manager: “Good.”

Me: “Why?”

Manager: “[Coworker] came in dressed as a giant pink slip.”

Me: “Oh… that’s, creative ?”

Manager: “[General Manager] was giving a tour of the place to [New Owners] and they saw it. They threw a fit.”

I later saw [Coworker] working in his area without a costume. I asked if he was okay and he said “if management are so comfortable giving pink slips out they should be comfortable taking them.” I kinda agreed with him…

When Vampire Management Sucks All The Fun Out Of Halloween

Today is Halloween, but it’s also a workday in the office. Management have encouraged us to be conscious of our Halloween costumes if we have chosen to wear any today; no barely-there sexy nurses or costumes so elaborate that they interfere with work.

I’m wearing a simple Dracula cape, and I have a small amount of fake blood painted on the sides of my mouth. My manager sees me.

Manager: “I hope you’re not wearing fake fangs. That might muffle your voice over the phone and our clients won’t be able to understand you.”

Me: *Flashing a normal smile.* “Don’t worry, just my normal pearly whites.”

The morning proceeds as normal, but then my manager walks over and sees me again.

Manager: “The more I think about it, the more uncomfortable I am with your costume. It’s a bit violent for my tastes.”

Me: “It’s just a cape and some makeup.”

Manager: “Yes, I know, but it’s making me uncomfortable. Can you take it off?”

Me: “I suppose.”

I go to the restroom and wash it off, and take off the cape. I’m back to my normal self and getting along with my work when my manager comes over yet again.

Manager: “I thought I told you to take that off.”

Me: “I have. I’m back to my regular human self.”

Manager: *Squints at me.* “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes!”

Manager: “Huh… I guess I never realized it before, but you do look like Dracula anyway.”

Me: “Gee… thanks?”

After an underwhelming and annoying Halloween day in the office, I instead look forward to going to a real Halloween party over the weekend.  

The next year, a few days before Halloween, some coworkers and I are discussing if we’re going to be wearing any costumes again this year.

Coworker: “What will you be wearing, [My Name]?”

Me: “I’m playing it safe this year and I’ll be coming in as the invisible man.”

Coworker: “Oooh! I can’t wait to see what that looks like!”

Halloween rolls around and I just… don’t go in.

Management says nothing and I won the ‘best costume’ prize that year (a cupcake).

Refund? Fog-get About It

It’s Halloween and our store has a large seasonal section for costumes and decorations.

Customer: “I’m looking for a fog machine for Halloween.”

Me: “Oh, we sell those as regular items so they’re not in the seasonal aisle. Let me show you.”

I bring him over and show him the selection. He goes straight for the largest and most expensive one we have.

Customer: “I’ll take this one!”

Me: “Uh, are you hosting a large event in a big open space?”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “While I wouldn’t call this an industrial strength fog machine, it’s still very powerful and designed for very large spaces, or ideally outdoors.”

Customer: “Yeah that’s fine. I need a lot of fog.”

Me: “Okay, just making sure.”

I make the sale, and you can probably tell where this is going. A few days after Halloween this guy is back in the store, with the fog machine, looking angry.

Customer: “This f****** thing smoked out my entire house in seconds! Every fire alarm went off and a neighbor called the firefighters on me! You embarrassed me in front of my neighbors! I want a refund!”

Me: “Why? It sounds like the machine performed even better than expected. You got a lot of fog for your money!”

He called a manager, who did the professional version of laughing in his face and not accepting the return.

Every year since then, our fog machines are moved to the seasonal aisle during Halloween and therefore cannot be returned after the event.

We Take It She’s Not A “Crunchy Mom”

It is Halloween night, and instead of candy this year, I am handing out little bags of pretzels. Nobody has an issue with this until a woman and her son, probably seven years old at most, show up. Worth noting: I am white, and the mother and son are Black.

Mom: *Disgusted* “Pretzels?! You should be giving my son candy! Who gives out pretzels on Halloween?!”

Me: *Equal parts shocked and confused* “I mean, who doesn’t like pretzels?”

Mom: “You’re hoarding all the sweets inside, aren’t you? Probably gonna give them to the white kids and leave hard-working folks like us in the lurch!”

Son: “Mom, it’s fine. I like pretzels.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m giving pretzels to everyone who rings my doorbell. Black, white, or Simpson!”

Mom: “Yeah, I’ll bet you are. Come on, [Son], we’ll get you some real treats elsewhere.”

The mom saunters away, and her tired-looking son grabs the bag of pretzels I’m still holding.

Son: “Sorry. She did the same thing with the guy who was giving out Pringles.”

Me: “I’m guessing he was white, too.”

Son: *Rolling his eyes* “How did you know?”

I feel so bad for that kid. I hope he enjoyed his racist Pringles and pretzels.

Question of the Week

Have you ever served a bad customer who got what they deserved?