Archive for 2012

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Insulated From Logic

| NH, USA | Right | October 12, 2012

(A customer has called our support line because his computer won’t turn on. After 30 minutes of basic troubleshooting I recommend he either bring his machine to us or have a tech dispatched for an on site repair. He chooses to have a tech dispatched. As I am finishing the call…)

Customer: “Oh, one last question. Can the tech work on my computer around the cooler, or do I have to remove it before he gets here?”

Me: “We generally advise that you don’t do anything like that yourself, since you would be voiding your warranty. If anything needs to be removed from the computer the tech will do it himself.”

Customer: “I know that. I was asking if I should remove the computer from the cooler.”

Me: “Remove the computer?”

Customer: “Yeah. Should I take it out of the cooler?”

Me: “Your computer is in a cooler? Like, the kind of cooler you take to a beach to keep your drinks cold? That kind of cooler?”

Customer: “Exactly.”

Me: “Why is your computer in a cooler, sir?”

Customer: “A few days ago I read that heat can be really bad for a computer. My living room gets really hot in the afternoon, so I put the computer in a cooler to protect it from the heat.”

Me: “Sir, you know that coolers are insulated, right?”

Customer: “I’m not stupid. I know what a cooler is.”

Me: “And you know that computers produce heat, right?”

Customer: “Like I said, I’m not stupid!”

Me: “Then you know what happens when you put something that produces heat inside of an insulated container, right?”

Customer: “I, uh, oh…”

Me: “…”

Customer: “This is going to be expensive, isn’t it?”

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Your Urgency Is Not My Emergency, Part 2

| Kittery, ME, USA | Right | October 12, 2012

(It is approximately five minutes past closing time at our drugstore. While my manager and I are counting the cash drawers, a man begins frantically banging on the doors and yelling at us.)

Customer: “Why are your doors locked?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we’re closed for the evening. We close at 9 and it is now almost 10 minutes past.”

Customer: “But I just need one thing! It’s an emergency!”

(I look over at my manager who sighs and nods. He puts one of the cash drawers back into the register while I unlock the door and let the man in.)

Customer: “You’re lucky you decided to unlock that door! I was about to break it down!”

Me: “What is it that you need? I can help you find—”

(The man pushes past me. After waiting for a few minutes, my manager is fed up.)

Manager: *yells toward the back of the store* “Sir? What is it that you need? Sir?”

(There’s no response from the customer, so my manager starts to head back to find him. They nearly collide at the end of an aisle.)

Customer: “Hey, watch it! I got what I need. Why are you so impatient?”

Manager: “Because we are supposed to be on our way home by now! My children are waiting for me to read them a bedtime story. Please pay for your items and be mindful of the store hours from now on.”

Customer: “Don’t talk to me like that! I’m a paying customer!”

(The man comes up to my register and drops his items on the counter: a bottle of personal lubricant, a bag of chips, and a bottle of wine. The customer pays and leaves. My manager is fuming.)

Manager: “THAT WAS THE BIG EMERGENCY?!”

 

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A Touchy Subject

| USA | Right | October 12, 2012

(My partner and I are certified EMTs. We are answering a 911 response for a minor having a seizure.)

Mother: “Oh, thank god! My son is in his room and was violently shaking! I think he had a seizure!”

(At this point my partner goes in to see the teenage son, who is sitting in his bed and is not showing any symptoms of recently having a seizure. I am still getting information from the mother when my partner returns.)

My Partner: *to me* “You can stop getting info.” *to mother* “Ma’am, with all due respect needed, you’re son did not have a seizure, he was umm… well, no easy way to put this, but he was masturbating.”

Mother: “That’s impossible! How dare you accuse my son of such a vile sin! He knows better! He’s a good Christian boy and would never touch himself in such a horrible way! You will transport him to the hospital for proper treatment for his seizure!”

Me: “Ma’am, your son is admitting to my partner what he was doing. He is not showing any symptoms of coming out of an actual seizure. There is no medical condition here for anyone to treat. I don’t think there is a need for him to go to the hospital.”

Mother: “You will take him to the hospital! He needs treatment!”

(After 15 unsuccessful minutes of trying to get the mother to cooperate, it’s obvious she wasn’t going to. We ended up having to transport her son to the ER. Needless to say, he was mortified and was quickly discharged.)

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Their Mind Is Long Overdue

| Maine, USA | Right | October 12, 2012

Me: “Library. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Hello?”

Me: “Hello, this is the library. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Is this [bank]?”

Me: “No, this is [library].”

Caller: “What?”

Me: “This is [library]. I believe you have the wrong number.”

Caller: “What?”

Me: “You have the wrong number.”

Caller: “What number is this?”

Me: “It’s [number].”

Caller: “What?”

Me: “It’s [number].”

Caller: “I know. That’s the number I dialed.”

Me: “Well, I’m sorry, but you either have the wrong number or dialed the wrong number. This is [library] not [bank].”

Caller: “What?”

Me: “This is [library] not [bank]. You have the wrong number.”

Caller: “So then, what’s the right number?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what [bank]’s number is.”

Caller: “Why not?”

Me: “Well, I don’t work at nor do business with that particular bank. I have no reason to need the number.”

Caller: “What?”

Me: “You have the wrong number and I don’t know what the right number is.”

(I hang up, but the phone immediately rings again. I’m pretty sure it’s the same person, so I let it go to voicemail. A few minutes later I check my messages, and, sure enough, there’s a message from the person I had just spoken with.)

Caller: “This is [name] and I’m having issues with my checking account. I called earlier, but the person who answered didn’t know what they were talking about!”

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Milk It For All Its Work

| Toronto, ON, Canada | Right | October 12, 2012

(A regular walks into the shop, makes his usual order, and pays for it. But instead of waiting at the bar, he pulls out an empty litre plastic bottle. He then pulls out a little funnel and fills the bottle to the brim with our coffee shop’s milk and stands at the bar looking smug until his drink arrives.)

Coworker: “That’s a lot of milk you’ve got there.”

Customer: “I know… I have to make ends meet somehow, with the prices that you charge. That’s like five bucks worth of milk in there.”

Coworker: “Well, sir, the other customers might want some, too.”

Customer: “I’m setting an example. How much do these cost to make? Milk, coffee, energy, wages. Less than I just paid for it. So, according to Marx’s theory of materialist dialectics, you’re extracting surplus value from me, the consumer. I’m just getting back some of what you owe me, and all the other customers should too.”

(At this point, everyone is looking at us, and the manager comes over to intervene.)

Manager: “Sir, our margins are pretty tight and that…” *points at the milk* “…is WAY more than the surplus value. Anyway, I haven’t done the calculation but I’d say most of the surplus value you contribute goes to homeless people and the ones who come in here and make themselves cinnamon milk to drink. You pay according to your ability, and they get according to their need. Yeah?”

Customer: *goes quiet and walks out, leaving his milk on the bar*

Manager: “Don’t try and school me on Marxist theory, a**hole.”

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