I really hate it when clients or potential clients just give me whatever answer they think will have their issue seen to the fastest instead of listening to me and responding to what I’m asking.

Today, I have three clients come in around the same time: a scheduled client, an expected walk-in, and an unexpected walk-in.

First, I go up front and call for [Scheduled Client]. The unexpected walk-in stands up and walks back with me to my desk. I almost start doing [Scheduled Clients] tax return in front of her before she tells me I’m opening a file with the wrong name, and I figure out she’s not scheduled. I send her back to the front.

I pull back [Scheduled Client] and do her taxes. I go back to the front. I THINK that this unexpected walk-in might be my expected walk-in, so I ask:

Me: “Are you the person I spoke with yesterday about the amendment?”

Walk-In Client: “Yep!”

Me: “You were with [Other Tax Pro] and she misunderstood you. You called me in the [Other Office Location] and I fixed it. I’ve not yet had time to print it up in this location, but I can do it now.”

Walk-In Client: “Yep!”

I have a bad feeling.

Me: “…Can you tell me a little about the situation?”

Walk-In Client: “You’ve just got to print it up for me!”

Me: “And… it’s an amendment?”

Walk-In Client: “Yup!”

Me: “…okay.”

I go back with her and look through [Expected Walk-In]’s stuff. We determine pretty quickly that the names don’t match, but this time I expect it a bit more.

Me: “…Look. How about you tell me what this is about in your own words?”

Walk-In Client: “My M1PR needs to be amended or something.”

Me: “Did you have an income change?”

Walk-In Client: “No.”

Me: “Did we miss a rent file?”

Walk-In Client: “No, but something went wrong, and it needs to be amended.”

Me: “What went wrong?”

Walk-In Client: “It didn’t get filed.”

Me: “…That doesn’t require an amendment. Can you give me your information, please?”

I check in the system, and for various reasons, her M1PR can’t be e-filed.

I remember her at this point. She was previously upset that her M1PR couldn’t be e-filed, so I offered her half off on her filing and made sure it was all set up for her to paper file.

I explain this to her.

Walk-In Client: “You never told me it had to be paper filed.”

Me: “If I didn’t give you that information, why did you get this manual discount that says in the notes, ‘For having to paper file’?”

Walk-In Client: “Well, you didn’t tell me clearly enough.”

I roll my eyes, print and prep her M1PR for paper filing, and hand it to her.

Walk-In Client: “Now wait a moment.”

Me: “What?”

Walk-In Client: “I want a full refund for the inconvenience, the attitude you’re giving me, and the fact that I had to paper file.”

Me: “No.”

Walk-In Client: “I’ll never come here again!”

I thought, “Please don’t come here again!”

Instead, I directed her to my manager to handle. I didn’t bother to pay attention to the result because [Expected Walk-in] finally arrived and I had my hands full.

Related:
Taxing Taxing, Part 21
Taxing Taxing, Part 20
Taxing Taxing, Part 19
Taxing Taxing, Part 18
Taxing Taxing, Part 17

This was during the launch of the SNES Classic (Super Nintendo Entertainment System). Anyone who remembers the launch of the NES classic remembers just what a dumpster fire it was; from massive demand to underwhelming product amounts, it was a nightmare all around. Imagine my surprise when we not only got enough SNES Classics to last until 10:00 am at the latest!

At around 10:00, a dad and his kid came in to get the SNES Classic, which was our last one for the day. As he was checking out, an elderly lady made it up to the counter and asked if we had any left. She didn’t seem too upset over having missed out by about a minute, but she had to stop and take a breath, having some health issues.

Now, normally, you’d expect the dad and his kid to get the item, and that’d be where it ended.

To my surprise, the dad immediately offered the lady the last console. She declined. It turned into an argument over who should have it, but instead of each of them arguing on their behalf, they were arguing that the other should have it. In the end, the elderly lady won, and the dad and his kid walked away with the console.

I have never seen anything like that before or after that point.

At work, we have a communal jar of peanut butter, a communal jar of jam, some communal fruit and yogurt, and a communal loaf of bread. We each take turns refilling these things as they run empty; there’s a rotation on the board.

I make myself a peanut butter sandwich with the bread. It tastes off.

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], does this bread seem off to you?”

He smells it.

Coworker: “Yeah. It smells kinda like mouse.”

I picked up the bag of bread to inspect it more closely and discovered a mouse hole chewed in the rear of the bag. I removed a couple of slices of bread and found a mouse and several mouselings nesting in the middle of the loaf of bread.

In a very manly fashion, I screamed and threw the bread. I don’t know what happened to the mouse or her pinkies. Subsequent investigation showed that several of the fruits had been nibbled, and a hole had been chewed into the side of the (plastic) peanut butter jar.

We hired an exterminator, and afterward, management changed the policy: no food in the breakroom pantry overnight.

I’m outside my apartment building, kneeling on the sidewalk. I have a bag of candy in front of me, and I’m wielding a hammer. A neighbor comes up the walk, sees me and pauses. I whack the candy with the hammer, shattering it.

Me: “Hey, [Neighbor].” *Whack*

Neighbor: “Hey, [My Name]. Whatcha doing?”

Me: *Whack* “Baking a cake. This part is loud, so I just do it outside.”

Neighbor: “Your cake baking involves a hammer?”

Me: “And two days for everything to finish.” *Whack*

Neighbor: “Heh, sounds fun. Save me a piece?”

Me: “Sure!” *Whack*

Two days later, I knocked on his door with a big slab of my cake for him and his fiancée to share, complete with the shattered candy on top. His fiancée later came up and asked me how to make the cake for his birthday because they’d both loved it so much.

I saw her outside a few days later, a bag of candy at her side, and a hammer in hand. If someone asked what she was doing, she’d laugh and tell them she was baking.

Just last week, a coworker left the company. He put in his two-week notice on a Tuesday afternoon but actually worked (I use that word loosely) for two and a half weeks. [Coworker] should have been gone after ten business days, and his last day would have been a Tuesday. However, he asked our supervisor if he could finish out the remainder of that week and end on a Friday. Our supervisor said that was fine. Were he an upstanding worker, it would have been great to have him around for those extra three days, but he’s not and he causes more issues than he’s worth.

[Coworker] hasn’t been the best worker or the most reliable one. More times than I can recount, he has come in late by an hour or more, he’s left early, and he’s aimlessly wandered around the workplace not doing anything other than wasting time to pad his hours. He has never been open to the idea of putting in any overtime (our work is usually okay with five to ten hours of overtime if he wants to, for the position he worked in) or even working past 2:00 pm. In any given work week, he has actually had trouble getting a full forty hours because of showing up late and leaving early, and he constantly complains about not having any money.

The last three extra days that our supervisor okayed for him to stay around and work pushed me over the top of tolerating this guy’s work ethic.

On his final Wednesday, [Coworker] texted our supervisor that he was running late and would be in soon. He finally showed up at 8:30 am; his starting time was 6:00 am. He got his material loaded onto his delivery truck and was gone until about 1:30 pm. After he got back, I gave him an earful about being late and being unreliable, and he assured me that for the last two days he worked there, he would be on time at 6:00 am.

Thursday came. My start time was 7:30, but I was there by 7:15 (like I am every day). I found out that my soon-to-be ex-coworker hadn’t shown up yet. I went to our supervisor and suggested that she call him and tell him not to bother coming in that day or the next because he was unreliable; she should just fire him. She told me that he had already reached out to her and said he was on his way in, so she’d let him come in and work still.

By 7:45, [Coworker] still hadn’t shown up, and we had material to deliver, so I made the decision to start shipping orders out via couriers. As I finished calling in pick-ups at 8:00 am, [Coworker] showed up, grabbed the delivery paperwork out of my hands, and tried to walk away with it for his delivery runs.

Me: “Give the paperwork back. You’re not taking it.”

Coworker: “I can do it.”

Me: “I already called a courier because you weren’t here and the material was expected out this morning.”

Coworker: “I’m here now. I’ll do it.”

He tried to walk out the door.

Me: “I’m not f****** around here. Give the paperwork back now. You were extremely late yesterday and today. You are unreliable. I can’t count on you to do the work that needs to be done, so I called in couriers for this material. Congratulations; you’ve now cost the company a few thousand dollars to pay for other delivery vehicles to do the work you were supposed to be here doing two hours ago.”

Coworker: “Oh… uh… okay.”

And he walked out of the office.

Fifteen minutes later, he walked back into the office after talking to our supervisor.

Coworker: “I heard you told the supervisor to fire me. Why do you have a problem with me?”

Me: “Seriously? You’re constantly late, you’re unreliable, you’re slow, you don’t want to work past 2:00 pm — and you throw a fit when you do. You complain about not having any money, yet you don’t want to work. And to top it all off… you asked our supervisor to let you work these couple of extra days past your original two-week notice, and you can’t even show up on time! That’s downright f****** disgusting and disrespectful to our supervisor who bends over backward to accommodate you and your constant tardiness. Yes, I told her to fire you so we wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore.”

[Coworker] just kind of chuckled at my comment — probably a nervous laugh more than anything.

Me: “It’s not f****** funny. I’m not joking. I’m serious. If it were up to me, you’d have been fired a long time ago.”

Coworker: *Pauses* “I… I appreciate your honesty about it all.”

Me: “No, you don’t. If you actually cared about doing your job, I wouldn’t have to talk to you like this, but that’s the problem, isn’t it? You don’t care, do you?”

Coworker: “Well… I do, but not really. So, yeah, that’s part of the problem.”

Me: “I don’t have time for you anymore. Since you’ve been working here, we’ve constantly ridden you about your tardiness and how bad it looks. If you’re going to be here, be here on time and do your work. If you’re not going to be here on time, then just get the f*** out and leave. Do us a favor and don’t bother coming back tomorrow. Get out of my office; I’ve got nothing more to say to you.”

[Coworker] just kind of hung his head and walked out the door. Our supervisor let him do some other delivery run for the day, and the same thing happened when he got back around 12:30; he was done for the day. He didn’t want to do any more work.

Friday came around and, yep, you guessed it: he showed up late again! No surprise here, though. He came in around 7:45 am, almost two hours late. I didn’t have any words for him anymore. I handed him the deliveries our supervisor said he should take that were due, and he got loaded up and out the door. He got back around 12:00 pm and had plenty of time to do another delivery run, but it was his last day, and he didn’t want to work anymore and left.

Good riddance.

For as many years as I’ve been working, it still baffles me how so many people can survive in this world with such lazy attitudes and lifestyles.