We have a coworker who is neurodivergent. He’s worked for the store longer than almost anyone else save a few managers, and he is known for keeping the fresh fruit and vegetable sections looking like works of art.

[Coworker] doesn’t interact with the customers too often due to some social anxieties and other factors, so he comes in very early at the same time as the produce shipments and makes sure the displays are perfect (and I do mean perfect) with minimal customer overlap. His shift is usually over only an hour or so after we start letting in customers.

Something happens with [Coworker]’s family, and he has to take two weeks off for it. He’s not too happy with this, as he is comforted greatly by his routine, but we’ve all been encouraging him how great he’s been doing in “trying new things” lately, and he can tell us all about his trip when he gets back.

Coworker: “Oh, no, that’s not what I am worried about. I’m worried about the displays. I have a specific way I make the apple pyramids, and it looks better when the cucumbers are stacked diagonal, not to mention—” 

Manager: “[Coworker], while I know for a fact that no one can do that better than you, we’ll find a way to manage without you, I promise.”

[Coworker] goes on his trip, and while we make our best effort, we can’t make the fruit and vegetable displays look as amazing as he does. It gets to the point where it’s noticed by the customers, and I have a variation of this conversation multiple times.

Customer #1: “Oh, your fruit displays aren’t as neat as they usually are. I know it’s a little thing, but it always makes my day when I can tell someone has made a conscious decision to stack the loose carrots by size. These things go noticed, you know!”

Me: “I’m glad you noticed, and yes, our regular stocker is off for the next two weeks.”

Customer #1: “Oh! Nothing bad, I hope?”

Me: “Not that I am aware, but I do know he’s looking forward to coming back to work to make the displays all pretty again!” 

After the two weeks are up, [Coworker] returns to work, and within a day, the displays are back to the perfect standards he is known for. This time, the regulars have noticed, and in that small window when [Coworker] and the customers are in the store at the same time, variations of the following conversation occur.

Customer #2: “Excuse me. Are you the man who puts out the fruits and vegetables?” 

Coworker: “Uh… yes. I am.”

Customer #2: “You do such a wonderful job! You were missed when you were away! You can tell they did their best in your absence, and I know it’s only a silly little thing, but it really is joyous to see how much care you put into your work! Now that I know it’s you, I simply had to thank you.”

Coworker: “Oh… uh… you’re welcome.”

Rinse and repeat to the point where, the next time I see [Coworker] in the break room:

Coworker: “I had to go away for two weeks because my grandad died. My mum was there, and she told me that I wasn’t going to ever make anyone happy in my life. But since I got back, I’ve been told that I’ve made six complete strangers very happy.”

Me: “Oh, my. I’m sorry about your mum, but I am glad you made some people happy.”

Coworker: “I think I am going to try some new designs with the cabbages tomorrow. That will show them!” 

Our manager has since promoted [Coworker] to the head of the produce department, and he’s developed several regulars who are “fans”. He even hangs around a little longer at the end of his shift instead of leaving immediately to talk to them.

The displays have only gotten better and better.

Back in the days of cable TV and satellite dishes (the early 1990s), I am a tech who is usually called to handle the more complicated issues. I get a call from a manager who works with my direct manager, who is retiring.

Manager: “We need you to do a hard reset on [Customer]. [Call Centre Manager] left a note on the account to specifically call you.”

I log in and see that it’s full of notes of the worst kind about this customer. Over the years, he has been abusive, racist, and sexist, but mostly homophobic. Every time he gets a male worker at the call centre, he calls them homophobic slurs of the vilest kind. How this customer’s account hasn’t been closed by now is beyond me.

Me: “Why? What happened here? His account is a mess.”

Manager: “It was [Call Centre Manager]. He seems to have… been creative on his last day before retirement last week.”

As I am friends with that old call centre manager, I call him and ask for an explanation.

Call Centre Manager: “I totally did not remote into a customer’s cable box with a generic tech support password, put in a parental lock, hide all channels except for a very nice adult entertainment channel, and then leave.”

Me: “I see. So, you absolutely did not leave this homophobic customer’s cable service locked into only, and absolutely only, the gay adult channel?”

Call Centre Manager: “I absolutely did not do that. No. See you at my retirement barbeque on Saturday?”

Me: “I’ll be there!”

I really hate it when clients or potential clients just give me whatever answer they think will have their issue seen to the fastest instead of listening to me and responding to what I’m asking.

Today, I have three clients come in around the same time: a scheduled client, an expected walk-in, and an unexpected walk-in.

First, I go up front and call for [Scheduled Client]. The unexpected walk-in stands up and walks back with me to my desk. I almost start doing [Scheduled Clients] tax return in front of her before she tells me I’m opening a file with the wrong name, and I figure out she’s not scheduled. I send her back to the front.

I pull back [Scheduled Client] and do her taxes. I go back to the front. I THINK that this unexpected walk-in might be my expected walk-in, so I ask:

Me: “Are you the person I spoke with yesterday about the amendment?”

Walk-In Client: “Yep!”

Me: “You were with [Other Tax Pro] and she misunderstood you. You called me in the [Other Office Location] and I fixed it. I’ve not yet had time to print it up in this location, but I can do it now.”

Walk-In Client: “Yep!”

I have a bad feeling.

Me: “…Can you tell me a little about the situation?”

Walk-In Client: “You’ve just got to print it up for me!”

Me: “And… it’s an amendment?”

Walk-In Client: “Yup!”

Me: “…okay.”

I go back with her and look through [Expected Walk-In]’s stuff. We determine pretty quickly that the names don’t match, but this time I expect it a bit more.

Me: “…Look. How about you tell me what this is about in your own words?”

Walk-In Client: “My M1PR needs to be amended or something.”

Me: “Did you have an income change?”

Walk-In Client: “No.”

Me: “Did we miss a rent file?”

Walk-In Client: “No, but something went wrong, and it needs to be amended.”

Me: “What went wrong?”

Walk-In Client: “It didn’t get filed.”

Me: “…That doesn’t require an amendment. Can you give me your information, please?”

I check in the system, and for various reasons, her M1PR can’t be e-filed.

I remember her at this point. She was previously upset that her M1PR couldn’t be e-filed, so I offered her half off on her filing and made sure it was all set up for her to paper file.

I explain this to her.

Walk-In Client: “You never told me it had to be paper filed.”

Me: “If I didn’t give you that information, why did you get this manual discount that says in the notes, ‘For having to paper file’?”

Walk-In Client: “Well, you didn’t tell me clearly enough.”

I roll my eyes, print and prep her M1PR for paper filing, and hand it to her.

Walk-In Client: “Now wait a moment.”

Me: “What?”

Walk-In Client: “I want a full refund for the inconvenience, the attitude you’re giving me, and the fact that I had to paper file.”

Me: “No.”

Walk-In Client: “I’ll never come here again!”

I thought, “Please don’t come here again!”

Instead, I directed her to my manager to handle. I didn’t bother to pay attention to the result because [Expected Walk-in] finally arrived and I had my hands full.

Related:
Taxing Taxing, Part 21
Taxing Taxing, Part 20
Taxing Taxing, Part 19
Taxing Taxing, Part 18
Taxing Taxing, Part 17

My dad is cleaning up and posts some stuff (old small furniture and the like) online as “free for pick-up”. He immediately gets a response from someone who is going to check the stuff out. After the meeting, my dad donates the stuff to the man.

The man asks if my dad is okay with him picking it all up over the spread of the next few days. When my dad asks why, the man says he has no car and has to use public transportation. My dad decides to just take the stuff to the man’s home.

Me: “Why did you do that when you stated it was ‘free for pick-up’?”

Dad: “It never hurts to help someone. And he was an old man, clearly over sixty. I just didn’t want him to hassle with this stuff.”

Fair enough, Dad. But… my dad is close to eighty years old!

You are as old as you feel you are, I guess?

I have a fourteen-year-old car that still runs well, but it developed a slow oil leak. Eventually, the leak got worse. I recently moved to a new town, so I needed to find a good mechanic. I found a place nearby, but they wanted me to leave it in the morning. This worked for me, and I had a coworker take me to work and back.

The mechanic said that I needed the valve cover gasket and the oil pan gasket replaced, and since they were difficult to get to, it would cost me $1,600. I was a little shocked, but since I didn’t know much about cars, I figured this would be okay.

I told him I’d bring my car back out in a few days (so I could arrange for the funds).

I mentioned this to a friend of mine. He also didn’t know much about cars, but he felt suspicious. I decided to get a second opinion from another nearby mechanic, who happened to have the same last name as the first mechanic. He inspected my car and quoted me $525.

Me: “Wow, the last guy who checked it told me it would be $1,600.”

Mechanic #2: “Who was it?”

Me: “[Mechanic #1], out there on [Road].”

Mechanic #2: “Oh, that’s my cousin. I don’t have any business with him. Now you know why.”

I was grateful for my friend’s instincts. I might have paid three times as much as I should!