Valet Away

, , , , , | Legal | August 12, 2018

(I arrive at work to find the assistant store manager looking frazzled.)

Manager: “You just missed the police.”

Me: “Why were the police here?”

Manager: “I had a customer call for a manager. He was very upset that an employee wouldn’t call the valet to return his car.”

Me: “We don’t have a valet…”

Manager: “Yup. He refused to believe that because he had given his keys to the valet and they drove away when he got here.”

Me: “Oh… oh, no.”

Manager: “Yeah, hence… police.”

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Un-Beer-lievable Behavior

, , , | Legal | August 11, 2018

(I work as a server at a sports grill which serves alcohol along with grill items like wings. This exchange happens with one of our elderly regulars who has been served his second beer just a few minutes earlier.)

Me: *noticing the now two empty pint glasses* “Wow, did you just shoot your beer?”

Gent: “No, I just poured it in here.” *gestures to a big steel thermos*

Me: *beat* “You can’t tell me these things, [Gent].”

(I told my manager, who offered to dump his beer out if he didn’t keep it in the glass. He conceded and she watched him and his now clean thermos like a hawk until he left.)

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Lawyers Were Never Real People

, , , , , | Legal | August 10, 2018

(I work for a government department that deals mainly with legal professionals, but we do occasionally get calls from members of the general public.)

Colleague: *on phone* “It’s a bit complicated. Are you a lawyer or a real person?”

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Delivering You The Criminals

, , , , , | Legal | August 9, 2018

The delivery area for a [National Pizza Chain] store I worked at was rather diverse, with two overlapping gang territories closest to the store, a business district at the northern boundary, middle-class housing to the south, and high-end housing to the west.

One night, I had a delivery to an upper-middle-class development, a house I’d delivered to in the past. But when I got there, all the lights were off inside. I went ahead and got out and knocked anyway, given the location, and the door was opened a few inches by a shabbily-dressed teenager. It was a rather snobbish family that I knew to live there and I doubted this person would be associated with them. A car drove past before he said anything and he ducked behind the door frame as it went by before opening the door far enough to pay and take the pizza. When he did I could hear more hushed voices coming from another dark room.

Once I was back in my car and was driving away, I called the police to report a potential burglary in progress. And it turns out it was. It boggled my mind that someone would order pizza while committing a crime. But, people hide nothing from the delivery driver, so I brushed it off and went on with life expecting that would be the end of it.

However, two weeks later I delivered to the same development, but a different house… and the same teenager in a house I knew wasn’t his. I called the cops again, and again it was indeed a burglary in progress.

While not my favorite delivery story from the three years I spent doing so, it remains one that never fails to leave me shaking my head at the stupidity of some criminals.

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The Walking Red(Handed)

, , , , , | Legal | August 8, 2018

(I’ve just been hired on by a lawyer who deals with disability claims, so I’ve put my two weeks in at the store I have worked at for a few years. This means during the day, I work at the law office, and I close evenings at the store. Since I’m still new to the job, I have to take my time with asking potential clients pertinent questions about their disabilities. I’m on my fourth day there, when a woman in her mid-forties comes in, leaning heavily on a walker, barely shuffling her feet. She is sweating furiously and panting, and drops down on the couch in the receptionist area.)

Me: “Oh, ma’am! Are you okay? Would you like some water to help cool you down?”

Woman: “You don’t have parking in front of your office.”

Me: “No, ma’am. Unfortunately, there was no place to put the parking area.”

(Our law office is an old house with barely any lawn, so the parking is across the street, except for a lone parking area meant for handicapped parking.)

Woman: “I could have hurt myself crossing the street. I’m not so sure I want to hire Mr. [Lawyer] now.”

Me: “Oh, you’re not a current client?”

Woman: “No! And you should tell him that making people park across the street is bad for business!”

Me: “I do apologize, ma’am. There’s nothing we can do about that. But since you’re not a client yet, how about you sit and get some rest, then I can ask you some questions about why you’d like to hire Mr. [Lawyer].”

Woman: *looking offended* “I’m not telling you that! That’s not your business.”

Me: “Unfortunately, it’s my job to ask these sort of questions so we can help in the best possible way we can. You don’t have to give me extensive information, just a briefing over what your disability is.”

Woman: “I got hurt in a serious wreck about six months ago, and ever since then, walking, sitting, standing, and even peeing is unbearable! If it weren’t for my walker, I wouldn’t be able to get around. It’s bad enough I have diabetes on top of that, plus the doctor said that I need to get surgery on my back if I ever want to be normal again, and I can’t do that. I don’t have any kind of insurance.”

Me: *feeling something is off* “I see.”

(I take her through her remaining information, such as which doctors she has gone to about her injuries and what medication she’s on. When I tell her that the lawyer will request a meeting with her at another date, she gets livid and says she’s changed her mind. She takes her time, struggling with her walker, and makes a point to knock over a vase on her way out, so I remember her very well. Two days later, I’m at the store, training my replacement at the register, when the same woman comes up. There’s no walker, the woman doesn’t seem to have any problems at all, and she doesn’t seem to recognize me. I wait for my replacement to start checking her out.)

Me: “It’s good to see you about, Mrs. [Woman]. How are you doing today?”

Woman: “I don’t know you. How do you know me?”

Me: “You came in two days ago to file for disability. I’m glad to know that the car accident you were in hasn’t hindered you completely. You don’t even need your walker this evening.”

Woman: “Oh, uh, oh. Well, I don’t need it all the time. I just… I’m just having a good day. That’s all.” *goes red and hurries to give my coworker her credit card*

Coworker: *after the woman has gone* “That was one of your new boss’s clients?”

Me: “Not an more.”

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