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Now We Know Why She Needs A Psychologist

, , , , | Right | January 17, 2021

I’m at my psychologist’s office waiting for my appointment. This clinic has two locations that are about twenty minutes apart. A lady walks in.

Lady: “I have an appointment for [Psychologist].”

Receptionist: “Oh, we seem to have you booked for [Other Office].”

Lady: “Well, no one told me!”

Receptionist: “I’m sorry, you should have received a text message confirmation. Did you get one?”

Lady: “No! I don’t have my phone; this is my husband’s phone!”

Receptionist: “Oh, I’m sorry. Well, we did send a reminder. I’ve just checked and your other appointments are booked for this office, but today’s appointment is booked for the other office.”

Lady: “Typical! I just drove over three hours to get here!”

Receptionist: “I’m sorry; would you like to head over to the other office? I’ll let them know you’re coming. It’s only about twenty minutes away.”

Lady: “Yes! I know! I just came from there!” *Storms out*

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Stranger Danger!

, , , , | Legal | January 17, 2021

My husband and I live in an apartment. It is a nice building with an onsite residential manager (the equivalent of a super), and some facilities like a small gym, communal courtyard, and bicycle lock-up. In short, it is not the kind of place you would expect the following story to happen in.

We have lived there for about six months when the neighbours report stuff being moved while they were out, cupboards being left open when they were sure they had shut them, and so on. I have come home to the television being left on when I was sure I had turned it off, but I just assumed I was mistaken. We joke about a ghost.

I never really think much about it until I come home early from work one day so I can prepare for our holiday the following week. As I approach the door, I hear that the television is on. I am certain I turned it off when I left, but I shrug it off, assuming I was just being absent-minded. However, when I open the door and make my way into the living room, I see somebody sitting on the sofa.

At first, I think it is my husband. Perhaps he planned to surprise me by finishing work early, as well. But as I walk over to the sofa, I realise to my horror that the man sitting there is not my husband; it is a stranger.

When the man realises I am there, he becomes startled, spinning around to face me, clearly not expecting me to be there.

Me: “I… Who are you and why are you in my apartment?”

The man scowls at me at first but then shrugs.

Man: “Oh, it’s okay. The building owner is my dad. I’m allowed to be here.”

Me: “I… I wasn’t notified of any work that needed doing.”

Man: “My dad owns this place. I’m allowed to be in here. It’s basically my place.”

Me: “This is my apartment. You can’t just come in and make yourself at home. It’s a breach of—”

The man stands and steps around the sofa as if to approach me but thankfully doesn’t come any closer. I am suddenly terrified. The man is at least six feet tall and easily twice my weight.

Man: “My dad owns this place. I have every right to be here.”

Unsure of what else to do, I flee to my neighbour’s, where I call the police. I have no idea whether the guy really is the owner’s son, or if he is a burglar making up stories. Either way, I want him out of my home.

The police soon arrive, and I let them into my apartment.

Surprisingly, the man is still there! The police tell him he is under arrest for breaking and entering.

Man: “I didn’t break in. I had the key. My dad owns the building. I can be in here if I want.”

The police weren’t having any of it and arrested him. After everything had been settled, I went back to my neighbour’s, too terrified to go back to my place alone. Even though I knew they had taken him away, I just couldn’t shake that a stranger had let themselves in like that.

It turned out that the man was, indeed, the building owner’s son; however, the building owner had explicitly told the managers not to let him in, let alone give him any keys. However, for whatever reason, the manager had been giving him the keys to various apartments because the son claimed his dad had asked him to perform some maintenance, even though no maintenance or repairs were scheduled.

The “ghost” which had been plaguing the complex was actually the owner’s son letting himself into the apartments. Luckily, as far as I know, nothing had been stolen. He’d just been letting himself in and watching TV, using their showers, eating some of their food, and otherwise just making himself at home while they were out. To this day, I have no idea why.

The manager was immediately fired and a more upstanding one replaced him. Our landlord couldn’t apologise enough. He even offered to reduce our rent for a few months as an apology, even though it wasn’t his fault. The building owner also gave us and the other residents generous financial compensation. As much as I appreciated these gestures, my husband and I found another place to live a few months later because I just couldn’t relax in the apartment anymore and was still terrified to be alone there.

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Times Have Tik-Tokked Since Then

, , , , | Right | January 17, 2021

It’s Christmastime in the early 2000s and we’re very busy trying to help everyone find their gifts.

Me: “Hello, ma’am, is there anything I can help you find?”

Customer: “I’ve been to over a dozen bookstores and I can’t find this book for my daughter.”

Me: “We’ll see what we can do. What’s it called?”

Customer: “It’s the Facebook.”

Me: “I’m not familiar with that one. Is it a makeup tutorial or something like that?”

Customer: “I don’t know. She just never stops talking about it and I want to surprise her. I think it has something to do with the Internet.”

Then, it clicked for me that she was talking about the website “Facebook,” and I did my best to explain it to her. She was very embarrassed but she appreciated my honesty. To this day, I don’t understand how so many other stores let her go on trying to find “the Facebook.”

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Caught In A Never-Ending Chicken Finger Trap

, , , | Right | January 17, 2021

I’m working food prep behind the concession stand. [Customer #1], a woman in her forties, ordered chicken fingers about five minutes ago, and they’re just finishing up. As I’m preparing to bring them out, a young teenage couple, [Customer #2] and [Customer #3], order the same thing from the cashier, and they are told it’ll be about five minutes. I recognize the couple as having caused some problems before, so I know it’s gonna be painful.

I wander from behind the concession stand and begin to approach the woman who placed the first order.

Me: “Ma’am, I have your chicken fingers.”

Suddenly, [Customer #2] and [Customer #3] jump in front of me.

Customer #2: “Yeah, we had chicken fingers.”

Me: “Yup! I got yours in the oven. It’ll just be a few more minutes.”

Customer #3: “But those are ours.”

Me: “Oh, I understand the confusion. These were ordered before your order. But don’t worry, I have your order in the oven, and it’ll be out soon.”

At this point, [Customer #1] has noticed me and has begun to walk towards me to get her food. I try to walk around the couple, and they again walk right in front of me and block me.

Customer #2: “Um… we had the chicken fingers.”

Me: “Yes, I understand you ordered chicken fingers. Your order will be out in a few minutes.”

Customer #3: “Babe, why won’t he give us our order?”

Customer #2: “I dunno. Just give us our order, dude.”

Me: “Yes, I will definitely give you your order when it is done.”

Customer #2: “But that’s our order!”

Me: “As I said, this order was placed before yours. Your order is in the oven. It will be ready in just a few minutes.”

I try to walk around them again, and they block me for a third time. At this point, [Customer #1] is standing on the other side of them. I try to pass the food to her, and [Customer #2] responds by trying to snatch it right out of my hand. I pull them back before he can grab them.

I remain polite but become firm.

Me: “Again, these are not your order. Your order will be out in a few minutes.”

Customer #2: “But I ordered the chicken fingers!”

Me: “Yes, but other people ordered chicken fingers before you.”

Customer #3:Why won’t you give us our order?!

Me: “Because these are not yours.”

[Customer #1] sees what’s going on. She’s clearly somewhat amused but also annoyed that she can’t get her order. She walks around the couple and right up next to me so she can grab her order. I try to hand it to her, and again, [Customer #2] tries to grab it out of my hand.

Me: “Sir, I’m not repeating myself again. These. Are. Not. Your. Order. Do not try to take other people’s food.”

Customer #2:But we ordered chicken tenders!

Customer #1: *Amused but very annoyed* “SO DID I, DIPS***!”

[Customer #2] goes quiet. [Customer #1] finally gets her food and leaves. [Customer #2] puffs out his chest and puts on a tough-guy voice.

Customer #2: “You could have just told me, a**hole! Don’t make me look like a fool in front of my girl ever again! You’ll be f****** sorry!”

Me: *Rolling my eyes* “Aww, you’re adorable. Did you want any sauce with your order?”

Customer #2: “F*** YOU, MAN!”

He stomped off and left his girlfriend to pick up the order. The write-up for mouthing off to him was totally worth it just to see how frustrated he got when he saw that I wasn’t afraid of him.

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Throw Me Under The Bus, You’re Coming With Me

, , , , , , | Working | January 17, 2021

Despite my age, I used to be a manager on the executive team for multiple sites for a company. When the company hit a recession, I decided this sort of role wasn’t for me and I took a more junior role at a new company.

One of the things it did teach me was how to manage people and how to communicate with senior management. 

At my new company, I make friends with a guy who is in his first managing role. He is clearly struggling, so I offer some advice that he eventually takes.

We end up going through how to evaluate people and complete objectives and targets. We do a few together and he seems to be getting it, although I end up writing most of it for him.

A few weeks later, his boss comes over to him and makes a big scene of his improvement, how his employee reviews are the best in the company, how far he has improved, etc. Then, he asks him:

Manager: “So, how did you improve?”

I think maybe a mention of my help is coming.

Coworker: “Oh, it’s easy, really. I guess I have a knack.”

I’m a little annoyed, but I don’t want to steal his thunder.

Manager: “Well, whatever you are doing is working.”

Some of the others in the office congratulate him. I’m not mentioned. It doesn’t bother me, really, but I make a point to remember it.

A few weeks later, [Coworker] comes to me again.

Coworker: “Hey, could you help me with another review?”

Me: “Sure, but didn’t we finish your last one?”

Coworker: “Err… we missed a few.”

Me: “Let’s see… Do you have any details?”

Coworker: “Yeah, I have it in an email. I’ll send it to you.”

I read the email. It’s from his boss, who has asked him to do some additional work for him. But [Coworker] forgot to remove the email history. In it, he is praised, and surprisingly, [Coworker] refers to his work “helping [My Name].”

For some reason, he has been painting me as some new, useless person who has needed to be walked through several simple tasks. He goes on and on about how he has helped me, taught me this and that, and other things that never happened.

I’m beyond annoyed and decide to give him all the wrong advice on his review. He takes it as gospel and makes a complete mess of it.

The next I hear of it is a few days later. My boss tells me he knows what I did and why, he knows that [Coworker] has been making it all up, and so does [Coworker]’s boss.

Officially, I am in trouble and this is a “talking to,” but unofficially, my boss laughed his a** off watching [Coworker] try to explain himself and his terrible review.

[Coworker], being a manager, was warned about his behaviour and was put on extended probation in the role as this wasn’t their only concern.

[Coworker] did apologize later, as did I, and we are still friends.

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