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There’s Snow Way That’s A Good Idea

, , , , , , , | Learning | September 24, 2021

Every year, my graduate program brings in a crop of new potential students for an “interview weekend.” Knowing that these students are visiting other schools as well, we try to make sure that they not only learn about the program but also have a good time.

One year, we book a banquet hall for a nice dinner on the last night of the interview weekend. It’s a fancy catered meal with current students, potential students, and professors. This particular banquet hall happens to be attached to a major league baseball stadium, though it’s not currently baseball season. From the windows of the hall, we can see the empty field covered in snow while we eat dinner.

[Professor] is the youngest professor in the department, and though he’s a nice guy, he’s constantly trying to show the students that he’s the “cool” professor. After dinner ends, he stands up and taps on his glass for everyone’s attention.

Professor: “I hear there’s been some interest in going down onto the field to run the bases at [Stadium].”

Students: “Yaaaay!”

Professor: “Well, I asked if we could, and they said we can’t.”

Students: “Awww.”

Professor: “But WHO WANTS TO DO IT ANYWAY?!”

He stood up. Immediately, about fifty students stood up, as well, and followed him out into the hall. Admittedly, I was one of them. Hey, if a professor is leading the charge, he’d be the one to get in trouble, right?

He led us on a march through hallways, down stairs, and through doors. At some point, I think we crossed a sky bridge from the banquet hall into the stadium itself, which I had assumed would be locked in some way, but it wasn’t.

During our march, a few of us got cold feet — a passing custodian warned us that we’d get arrested — so we positioned ourselves where we could see the field and just watched to see what would happen.

Apparently, [Professor] and the mob of students were able to make their way right to the double doors that led directly onto the field. A friend of mine says that, in retrospect, he thinks [Professor]’s plan was to get to those doors, show they couldn’t be opened, and lead the disappointed but excited grad students back to the banquet hall.

Instead, the double doors opened. [Professor] turned around, shocked, only to be mown down by a mob of gleeful students that he had unleashed on the empty stadium. From my vantage on the sky bridge, I saw students running the bases, throwing snowballs, and making snow angels in the outfield. Some kind of loud alarm instantly started blaring, and security removed everyone from the field. Our entire department was then kicked out of the banquet hall and told we were banned for life.

I never found out what happened to [Professor]. But I did hear that our wonderful administrators, as soon as they heard what happened, sent flowers and apologies to the staff at the banquet hall. When the following year’s interview weekend rolled around, we were somehow allowed back!

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Voicemail Fail, Part 5

, , | Right | September 24, 2021

Me: “Hello, and thank you for calling [Library], how can I help you?”

Patron: “I just tried to call the local government switchboard and no one was picking up; they said they were closed. What’s happening?”

Me: “Well, we’re a part of the local government, but I really have no control over their switchboard. I know they’re closed for lunch between noon and one o’clock, so maybe try to call back after that?”

Patron: “No, I called the number and the voice said that they were closed. I don’t know what’s happening!”

Me: “All right, if you hold for a moment, I’ll try to call the switchboard and see if I can figure out what’s going on.”

I put her on hold and call the switchboard. Of course, I get sent directly to voicemail.

Voicemail: “Welcome to [Local Government]. The switchboard is closed for lunch between noon and one o’clock. Please call back later.”

I hang up and get back to my patron.

Me: “Hello, ma’am? I just tried to call the switchboard and they are closed for lunch right now, just like they said in the voice message. Try to call back after one o’clock and they’ll help you.”

Patron: “And how was I supposed to know that? You really should do something about it!”

She hung up and I was left wondering exactly how I was supposed to stop the lone telephone operator at the switchboard from going to lunch.

Related:
Voicemail Fail, Part 4
Voicemail Fail, Part 3
Voicemail Fail, Part 2
Voicemail Fail

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Platinum Or Plat-dumb?

, , , , | Right | September 24, 2021

I have spent the last two years working in the kitchen of a local casino. I have been either cooking for the employees or doing the majority of the prep work for the casino buffet. I don’t deal with the general public.

Today, I clock in to find they want me to run the dessert counter on the buffet. Most of our cakes are premade and presliced, so aside from keeping the options for guests full, my other job is to plate the cakes. As I’m doing this, a blissfully clueless woman comes up to look at the desserts.

Guest: “Excuse me, what’s in the chocolate cake?”

I simply think she is looking for allergens and she also seems polite.

Me: “Flour, eggs, gluten, sugar, cocoa, milk…”

Guest: “No! No, no, what is in the chocolate cake?”

I reach over to grab the ingredient list and start to recite the list for her and politely as possible.

Guest: “No, no, no! How can you not know what is in your chocolate cake?!”

We stare at each other for a moment.

Guest: “So, what is in the chocolate cake?”

Me: *As emotionless as I can* “Chocolate and cake.”

Guest: “Manager, now!”

I leave the dessert table to find a manager; thankfully, one is close. I explain the situation. He is less than pleased with my last response but doesn’t say anything and goes straight to deal with the lady.

I get back to work but stay out of sight, and they have the same conversation, minus the last part. Then, she delivers this gem.

Guest: “I have Platinum on my card! I will not have anything less. Now, last chance, WHAT. IS. IN. THE. CHOCOLATE. CAKE?!”

There was a long moment of silence and curiosity got the better of me. I peeked around the corner to see my manager standing as though his brain had died. The customer finally gave up and walked away.

I never did find out what she wanted to find inside her cake. I’ve never seen Platinum as an edible.

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The Chosen One Has Chosen You

, , , | Right | September 23, 2021

I work for a huge company that operates in a variety of fields, including running hotels. I, however, work at a law office. The phone rings and I answer.

Me: “[My Name] at [Law Office].”

Customer: “Hi, I would like to book a standard room with a queen-sized bed for the upcoming weekend.”

Me: “I’m afraid you have the wrong number. This is a law office.”

Customer: “No! I’m looking at the Internet and this is the number!”

Me: “Not to worry. It’s a common mistake. We are a part of [Company Group], as are the hotels you are probably looking for. The phone numbers are quite similar. Have a nice—”

Customer: “You’re not going to hang up, are you?! What kind of customer service is this? Why, I never!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I just can’t help you any further. You need to call the hotel to book a room. Bye.”

I hang up, but the phone rings again almost immediately.

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “How dare you hang up on me?! I need to book this room now. I’m going to the wedding of [Person #1] and [Person #2]. They can have only ten people attending because of the health restrictions and I am one of the chosen ones!”

Apparently, the wedding is for some celebrities, as she assumes I would know the names. I’ve never heard of these people but am also honored to speak with “the chosen one.” For some reason, I start to feel a little sorry for her. She is annoying and demanding sure, but she’s also clearly confused.

Me: “Okay. Let me see what I can do for you.”

I go to the website of the hotel chain.

Me: “Which of our hotels would be the best for you? We have six in total in the central area of Helsinki.”

Customer: “The one I called, obviously!”

Me: “We have a shared booking number. Please, just state the name of the hotel.”

Customer: “Well, actually, I’m not sure which one would be the best. Can you recommend the nicest for me?”

We spend about twenty minutes on the phone comparing the hotels and she finally chooses one. I go to the booking section of the website, get her details, and book a standard room with a queen-sized bed for her.

Me: “…and we are all done. I hope you have a wonderful stay at [Hotel] and hopefully all goes well at the wedding.”

Customer: “Thank you so much! Sorry I was rude in the beginning! I’m just so nervous to be one of the chosen for such an event. Sorry again. Have a nice day.”

Me: “Not a problem at all. Bye!”

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He’s Only A Member Of The Random Jerks Club

, , , , , , | Right | September 23, 2021

My local game store has special sales days for loyalty members. The deals are usually pretty good, like buy-two-get-one preowned, or sometimes buy-three-get-two. Plus, I can usually load up on T-shirts, cute pins, and the occasional decoration for my gaming corner. 

It’s one of those sales, and I’m walking around with several T-shirts and packs of Pokémon pins in my arms. I stop by the PlayStation 4 games, because it’s a great time to load up on games I’ve heard good things about but wasn’t sure about paying full price for. I’m browsing along when some random dude decides to talk to me.

Customer: “Hey, you have a loyalty card, right?”

Me: “Uh, yes.”

Customer: “Can I use it, too?”

I will totally let my close friends use my account, but I don’t feel comfortable letting some random dude use it, especially as it’s tied to my phone number.

Me: “Sorry, no.”

Customer: “Come on. It’s not a big deal.”

Me: “I don’t feel comfortable giving out my phone number, so no.”

I grab my games and go up to the counter. Rando follows a few steps behind. I’m an extreme regular, so the main employees know my phone number by heart. So, thankfully, I don’t have to say it out loud, but rando dude is trying to see over my shoulder.

Employee: “Hey, sir, I’m going to need you to stand over there in line.”

Customer: “I’m with her. She’s my girlfr—”

Employee: “I know her boyfriend, sir.”

I’m single, but thank God for good people!

Customer: “Brother?”

I shake my head.

Employee: “Behind the line, please, sir. It’s store policy, as a lot of our customers pay with credit cards.”

Customer: “Come on!”

Employee: “Sir, step behind the line.”

Rando finally steps away, and the employee rings me up. I pay, take my bags, and head for the door. As I do, rando steps up to the counter and puts the games down with a half slam. I kind of decide to be nosy and see what happens.

Customer: *Points to me* “She said I could use her account.”

Employee: “No, sir.”

Customer: “It’s like, c’mon, it’s like five bucks.”

He’s holding several pre-owned games that have been recently released, where the free one would be around $50.

Employee: “I can sell you a membership and you’ll still save money.”

It’s $15 for the membership, which would mean he would essentially get the third game for $15, which is still a $35 savings.

Customer: “No, that’s too expensive. Just put in yours or something.”

Employee: “I can’t do that. I can only give you a discount if you have your own membership.”

Rando knocked the games off the counter and stormed past me, tossing out a slur that implied that I could be paid in exchange for sexual favors.

Dude, just buy a membership.

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