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    There’s A Funny Upside (Down) To This

    | Santa Barbara, CA, USA | Extra Stupid, Technology

    (I work for a computer retailer. A customer brings in a system he bought about an hour before.)

    Customer: “Yeah. I want to return this computer. The CD-drive isn’t working.”

    Me: “Not working? How so, sir?”

    Customer: “Discs don’t fit inside it.”

    (I hook up the machine to a monitor setup we have, open the disc tray, and it reads the CD I put in just fine.)

    Customer: “Wait, the computer looks different now!”

    Me: “Different? Sir, this is an Apple. They look pretty much the same all the time.”

    Customer: “No. The symbol on the side there! It’s upside down.”

    Me: “It’s an Apple, a leaf and an apple with a bite out of it.”

    Customer: *embarrassed* “I… put it on the floor upside down, didn’t I?”

    His Lawyers Should Have The Book Thrown At Them

    | England, UK | Books & Reading, Language & Words, Top

    (I work as a publisher. I get a visit from a very distraught client.)

    Client: “Excuse me. I’m really sorry, but I was told you were the head publisher?”

    Me: “Yes, I am. How can I help?”

    Client: “Well, I’ve been writing stories my whole life. I even written a couple for my children that they love. I’m really good at it and it’s a great passion of mine. It’s my life long dream to make a living as a writer, but nobody will even look at my novel because I’m dyslexic. I know the spelling and grammar isn’t great but I’ve had people spell-check it for me. I just need someone to give me a chance. I know my book will be a hit.”

    Me: “I’m so sorry to hear how you’ve been treated. Send me the first few pages of your book, the best scene in the book, preferably around the middle, and the last few pages, and I’ll give them a read.”

    (The client thanks me, places the ENTIRE book on my desk, and then leaves. I start to read it later that day, only to discover that not only is the spelling and grammar awful, but so is the book itself. I continue reading much more than I usually do, wanting to believe this man was truly the great writer he claimed to be. The story gets worse and worse the more I read. I read a couple of pages in the middle. Then I skip to the end, only to discover he ended the book with the most despised sentence in the literary world, ‘and it was all a dream.’ Needless to say I wrote him a rejection letter. A few days later I get a message from the receptionist, who is in tears, claiming an enraged man is here, screaming about suing us. I told her to let him in. It was our dyslexic client.)

    Client: “What is this?! You told me you were going to publish my book!”

    Me: “No, sir. I said I was going to read your book, which I did. I’m sorry but I do not believe it is suitable to be published.”

    Client: “That’s bull-s***. My book is brilliant. You have to publish it. There’s no good reason not to.”

    Me: “Sir, I’m sorry, but the book’s no good. I can’t publish this.”

    Client: “Oh yeah? Name me five reasons why you can’t publish it.”

    Me: “Five?”

    Client: “Yeah, five. Otherwise there’s no reason your editing team can’t sort it out.”

    Me: “Okay. First of all, there is next to no characterisation.”

    Client: “What the f*** does that mean?”

    Me: “It means that your characters don’t develop in any way.”

    Client: “That’s complete bull-s***. What else?”

    Me: “Your main character is suppose to be the protagonist and yet has no fatal flaw. He’s perfect.”

    Client: “Main characters are supposed to be perfect. That’s why people love them. Hamlet didn’t have a ‘fatal flaw’.”

    Me: “Actually, he did. He procrastinated and it resulted in many dying.”

    Client: “You don’t know what you’re talking about. And that’s only two.”

    Me: “I’m not finished. Three, I know you are dyslexic but almost every sentence needs to be edited. That is too much work for our editor and financially would not be beneficial for the company. Four, you not only use abbreviations in the narration like BTW for ‘by the way’, but you also use words that don’t exist.”

    Client: “Like what?”

    Me: “Like the word ET. It does not exist.”

    Client: “Yeah, it does. I ‘et’ an apple.”

    Me: “Ate, sir. You ATE an apple. ‘Et’ is not a word.”

    Client: “Fine, but that’s only four.”

    Me: “And five, it’s not long enough.”

    Client: “How can it not be long enough. It’s well over 100 pages.”

    Me: “Sir, the quantity of a book is based on word count, not pages. Your book may be over 100 pages, but with the size of the paper, the size of the font, and also that you start a brand new page every time you start a new chapter, it’s too short.”

    Client: “Well, how long does it have to be?”

    Me: “The average novel is between 80,000 to 120,000 words. Your novel is just over 16,000. I have nothing against people with dyslexia and there are many great writers who have it. You, however, will not be one of those writers. I can continue to list more things wrong with your novel but I have listed the five you requested. Now I must ask you to leave my office as I am incredibly busy.”

    (The client grabs his novel from my hands and storms out. A couple of weeks later we receive a letter from a lawyer suing us for discrimination, claiming that we were not publishing the man’s novel because he was dyslexic. I had our lawyers phone his, explaining the true reasons, and also that our conversation was recorded. We never heard from him after that.)

    I Don’t Work Here Does Not Work Here, Part 13

    | IN, USA | Crazy Requests

    (My roommate and I are doing some shopping at a popular supermarket chain. The employees wear red shirts with white name tags. My roommate works at a day spa and hasn’t changed out of her uniform yet, which is a black dress with a bronze name tag. As we are heading to check out, an elderly woman grabs my friend’s arm.)

    Woman: “Can you tell me where the house robes are?”

    My Roommate: “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

    (The woman is still holding on to my friend’s arm, so my friend gently pulls herself loose.)

    Woman: “Excuse me! I asked you a question!”

    My Roommate: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I really don’t know where they are. I don’t work here.”

    (At this point, a store employee has noticed us and approaches.)

    Employee: “Can I help you ladies?”

    Woman: “This lady won’t help me find the house robes! She isn’t doing her job. I asked a simple question, and she’s ignoring me to hang out with her little friend instead. I want to speak to a manager.”

    Employee: “Ma’am, I don’t believe she works here.”

    Me: “She doesn’t.”

    Woman: “Well, then why is she wearing a name tag?”

    My Roommate: “I work at a day spa down the street and I haven’t had time to change out my uniform yet.”

    Woman: “Oh. How was I supposed to know that?”

    (She’s being very rude and I’m getting fed up with it.)

    Me: “Because her uniform looks absolutely nothing like his?”

    Woman: “Excuse me? I won’t be talked to like that.”

    Employee: “Ma’am, I apologize for this misunderstanding. If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you the—”

    Woman: “No! I want to see a manager! I want both of these girls fired!”

    My Roommate: “Neither of us work here!”

    Related:
    I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 12
    I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 11
    I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 10
    I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 9
    I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 8
    I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 7
    I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 6
    I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 5

    Baby On Board (The Bus)

    | Halifax, NS, Canada | Health & Body, Top, Transportation

    (I am 27 weeks pregnant and starting to have contractions. I am on the bus on my way to the hospital. The driver is aware of this. I pull the buzzer to get off the bus and start walking to the door.)

    Driver: *to me* “You sit back down!” *to the rest of the bus* “Is anyone going to need any of the next four stops? Because if so, I suggest you get off now, as we are detouring!”

    (The driver then takes us directly to the hospital. He stops the bus, gets out of his seat, walks me down the steps, and into the hospital! The next day I am still in the hospital. I call up the transit office.)

    Me: “Hi, yes. I was on bus [number] yesterday evening and the driver detoured from his route for me. I just wanted to make sure he is not in trouble. Because of him, they were able to save the life of my unborn son!”

    Transit Employee: “No worries, miss. We only got one complaint from a passenger. The driver called us as soon as he got back with everyone on the bus. He has been given a commendation for his actions yesterday. Thank you for calling, and take care!”

    Lying Is All Relative(s), Part 2

    | Adelaide, SA, Australia | Family & Kids, Food & Drink, Liars & Scammers

    (My sister and I work in a bakery owned by our family; our grandma is the owner.)

    Customer: “Hi. I’m the owner’s daughter. So, I can get my food for free, okay?”

    Me: “Okay, I’ll call your mother in, okay?”

    (The customer nervously nods. I call in my grandma.)

    Grandma: “What is it?”

    Me: “Oh, this customer says you’re her mum.”

    (My grandma looks at the customer.)

    Grandma: “I have never seen you in my life. Also, you look about twenty. So you could pass as my granddaughter, but not as my daughter!”

    (The customer runs out quickly!)

    Related:
    Lying Is All Relative(s)

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