So Incompetent You Could Just Die!

, , , , | Working | March 22, 2019

(I live with my grandmother as she has problems moving around. Since I moved in with her, I have added Internet access on top of her normal cable box. However, I have noticed that the Internet randomly drops connection and stays disconnected for a few minutes. I call up the Internet company and notice that it is under my grandfather’s name first. He passed away ten years ago.)

Internet Rep: “Am I speaking to [Grandfather]?”

Me: “No, I’m his grandson. He passed away ten years ago. I can put my grandmother on the line as she is also on the account.”

Internet Rep: “I’m sorry, but unless he talks to me I can’t continue this conversation. He is the name on the account.”

Me: “I don’t understand; she is also on the account, so she can help out.”

Internet Rep: “He is on the account. I can’t continue unless he talks with me.”

(I decide to try something stupid and tell him to hold on.)

Me: *with the same voice* “Hello, this is [Grandfather].”

Internet Rep: “Ah, thank you. Now we can begin your fix. What is the problem?”

(I couldn’t believe that worked. In fact, I just found it easier to say I’m my grandfather when talking with the companies. I asked how to remove his name from the account during another conversation, but I needed a four certified copies of his death certificate!)

Sales End… Bad Customers Do Not

, , , | Right | March 22, 2019

Customer: “I found these yesterday and they were half off. I hid them in the Men’s department, but someone moved them. I had to go looking for them again, and the price is now different.”

Me: “Yes, the sale ended yesterday, and any clothes found to be in another department is moved when we tidy the store every night.”

Customer: “Well, that’s just ridiculous. I want them for half price, as they said yesterday!”

Me: “But the sale ended yesterday. They’re full price again.”

Customer: “Well, make them half price. It doesn’t take an idiot to do that!”

Me: “I’m afraid I don’t have the administrative powers to do that.”

Customer: “Then get me a manager, you idiot!”

(I call one down and she explains the situation to him.)

Manager: “The sale ended yesterday. You either pay the price they are now or leave them.”

Customer: “But I wanted them yesterday. You should honour the price they were when I wanted them.”

Manager: “Why didn’t you buy them yesterday?”

Customer: “Because I’m buying them today!”

Manager: “Then you will be paying full price.”

Customer: “Well… you… you should make it obvious when sales are going to stop.”

Manager: “We make announcements all day for end of sales, and there are signs throughout the entire store. If you didn’t realise from that I cannot help you.”

(The manager walks away, ending any chance of her getting the price reduced. She folds her arms and harrumphs. I ask if she still wants them, but she doesn’t answer and just glares at me. I take it as a no and leave her. She stands there for nearly an hour, blocking mostly people using wheelchairs from using the aisle as they leave. My manager refuses to move her as he finds it hilarious how childish she is acting. As I’m on my way out for lunch she finally moves again.)

Woman: *throwing her arms up* “YOU’RE ALL MISOGYNISTS!”

(She storms up to me.)

Woman: “Except for you, dear. You’re just a blonde r******d bimbo.”

(She spat on the sliding doors as she left. Throughout the rest of the day, we got constant calls from someone who hung up the second we answered. We got in touch with the police who eventually found out it was the same woman, trying to harass us. We have her CCTV picture posted on the wall now as you come into the store. She tries to come in every other week, but when she sees she is still up on the wall, she harrumphs and storms out.)

A Sign This Job May Be Wrong For You

, , , , | Working | March 22, 2019

(I’m an adult man living with my parents. My parents have gone on vacation for a week, and I am staying home to take care of things around the house. One day, a [Delivery Company] truck pulls into the driveway, and I head outside to meet the driver. The driver is not the regular driver for our route. Being a rural area where everybody knows everybody, this is kind of big news.)

Me: “Hi there. Is [Regular Driver] just out for today, or are you the new driver for our route?”

Driver: *getting out of his truck with a package in his hands* “He called in sick today, so I’m substituting for him. He should be back tomorrow. Anyway, I got a package for [My Dad].”

Me: “Thanks! I can grab it from you.”

Driver: “You’ll need to sign first.”

Me: *confused, because my dad never chooses the “must sign” option when he orders things* “Okay, I guess I can sign for it.”

Driver: *checks my signature* “Wait. You’re not [My Dad]? Is he home right now?”

Me: “No, that’s my dad, and he’s not home right now.”

Driver: “Oh. The package is in his name, so I guess I can’t deliver it until he’s home.”

(Before I could say another word, the driver put the package back into the truck, got into his seat, and drove off. Knowing that our regular driver was supposed to be back the next day, I decided not to call customer service, since it really wasn’t a big deal yet; my dad wouldn’t be home for a few more days, so he didn’t need the package right away. The next day, our regular driver was back in the truck, and I received the package with no issues. Out of curiosity, I asked him if [Delivery Company] had recently changed their policy on signing for packages. He started laughing, and asked what had happened. After I told the story, he explained that I wasn’t the only one who had had problems; apparently, the substitute driver had unofficially broken the [Delivery Company] record for most complaints in his first day as a driver… with nearly 30 complaints! He had refused to deliver ANY package without a signature from the person listed on the package, and he had even refused to deliver packages to businesses unless the business owners themselves signed for them. Naturally, he was fired as soon as he returned to the office at the end of the route, and [Delivery Company] lost a lot of money refunding the shipping fees for all the customers who called to complain. I guess I should have called customer service right away and saved my dad a few dollars on his project.)

Doesn’t Quite Get The Prints-iple

, , , , | Right | March 22, 2019

(I’m busy working on a painting in the back of my art gallery when an older woman comes in. My painting area is obvious, in full view of the front, so anyone coming in can see what’s going on between the two extremely wide aisles. The woman is somewhat shabbily dressed, but I have no judgments because I’ve previously sold pieces to people in all kinds of clothes, clean or dirty. She’s looking at the paintings on the walls and after giving her a while to look around, as is customary, I walk towards the front to ask if she has any questions or needs help with anything. The woman does not look at me once during the following conversation. Zero eye contact.)

Me: “Welcome to [Name] gallery. Is there anything I can help with?”

Customer: “Not really, but these are very nice prints.”

Me: “Well, actually they’re original paintings, not prints. I do have a couple of print bins at the end of the middle aisle if you are looking for a print.”

Customer: “Well, they look like prints to me. I should know.”

Me: “No, they’re original paintings, all done with brush and paint.”

Customer: “Right.” *smiles sweetly* “Well, you don’t really know. You’re just an employee, after all.”

Me: “Actually, ma’am, I know for a fact because I own the gallery and those are my paintings you’re looking at.”

Customer: “Well, how would I know if they’re not reproductions and you’re just trying to rip people off?”

Me: *trying to be patient and educate her* “For one thing, if you look closely, there are built-up areas of paint in different spots. As well, I can show you the back of the painting if you’d like, so you can see where the paint is on the sides of the canvas and some is actually on the back as well. I only sell prints on paper, not canvas. My originals are always in frames. I never frame the prints, they’re always in the bins so it’s easy to flip through them.”

Customer: “Oh, only originals are in the frames. Okay.”

Me: “That’s right, but if you’re looking for prints, the print bins are at the end, just down there.”

Customer: “Hmm, no, I don’t want any prints. I only buy originals.”

(I watch her for a couple seconds more and then go back and keep working on the painting, but keep an eye on her. She never once goes to the bins to look at any of the prints or even glances my way while I’m obviously painting an original. As she’s leaving:)

Customer: “Well, thanks for the information. I really do like the prints you have up.”

Me: “… “

Save The Date!

, , , , | Romantic | March 22, 2019

(My husband and I are standing in line to get snacks at a movie theater, talking while we wait. I respond to something he says in a way that’s snarky and fake-insulting, as that’s how I express my affection most of the time, and he usually volleys it right back.)

Husband: “You are ruining date night.”

Me: *gasps* “This is a date?!

Husband: “Yes, this is date night and you’re ruining it.”

Me: “Do… do you like me?”

Husband: “…”

Me: “Do you like me like me?!”

Husband: “I’m not sure where you find divorce papers, but you’re making me really tempted to find out.”

Me: “Now who’s ruining date night?”

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