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Congratulations; You Played Yourself

, , , , , , , | Legal | December 23, 2022

About ten years ago, I was working as a bank teller. I was pretty new, so I followed all the rules about checking IDs, even when my coworkers would sometimes be lax about it.

A man came in to cash a check drawn on our bank, but he said he didn’t have an account. I asked for his ID, required to cash all checks if you weren’t a customer of our bank. He pitched a fit (which happened a lot in that area), but he eventually handed it to me. It immediately looked… off. So, I asked him for a second form of ID. The fit escalated and he asked for my manager. We didn’t have one, but my supervisor was there, so I got her.

She took one look at the ID.

Supervisor: “We can’t accept this without a second form of ID.”

Man: “I don’t have one. Demanding that is illegal! I’m going to call the cops. They’ll tell you it’s a real ID, and then you’ll have to cash the check!”

Supervisor: *Very calmly* “We are not advising you to do that, but we also can’t stop you.”

The man made the call anyway. Around this time, the man’s companion, who had been waiting in the car, came in to see what was taking so long.

Man: “I’ve called the cops! Now we’re waiting for them to tell these people that my ID is real!”

The companion looked panic-stricken.

Companion: “We need to leave. Now.”

The police showed up. The companion looked like she was going to spontaneously combust. The man handed over his ID.

Man: “tell them it’s real, so they’ll cash my d*** check.”

The cop looked at the ID.

Cop: “Can’t. Where’d you get this?”

The man pointed to the companion now trying to go out the front door. 

And that’s how a guy called the cops on himself and his girlfriend for making and using fake IDs and got them both arrested.

Really Duct That One Up

, , , , , | Working | December 26, 2022

I am the moderator of my neighbourhood’s social media group. It’s very casual and mostly gets used for lost pets and neighbourhood events.

However, I am very strict as a moderator, particularly as one of the other neighbourhoods close by had their social media group end up in the national news for how toxic it was (because the moderators had a totally hands-off approach). No advertising, no harassment, and you have to live in or near the neighbourhood to join.

The group runs really well, but there is one consistent devil I have to contend with: duct cleaning. A particular duct cleaning company has decided that their advertising strategy is to create a fake profile every month, join every neighbourhood group, and then post an ad for their company on all the groups at once. I invariably take them down, as I’m sure the other groups do, but I guess they figure enough people see it that it is still free advertising.

I’ve tried to spot the fake profiles, but they are either using each of their employee’s profiles one by one or are setting them up far enough in advance that they don’t get flagged as new or fake accounts.

Eventually, I got sick of the constant posts and fiddled around in the settings until I found the post filter. I set it up so that any post that so much as used the word “duct” would be automatically declined and the poster suspended for a month.

Excited about my new filter, I posted on the page that any post with the word “duct” would be declined. And then, I got declined and suspended for using the word “duct”… by the filter I had just set up.

Oh, well. At least it works.

Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 10

, , , , , | Right | January 2, 2023

I work in a restaurant where I cook or wait tables depending on how long it takes me to get fed up with one or the other and need a change. We always have to be very conscious of allergies in food service as it can be life or death for some people with shellfish allergies, nut allergies, Celiac disease, etc.

Enter the gluten-free trend crowd.

While I recognize that some people have a legitimate allergy, there are so many that are trying to be trendy. The big difference is that a person with a true allergy already has a general idea of what they can and cannot have and will start the whole process off before ordering by letting us know what said allergy is, which we appreciate as it saves time. No big deal.

The trendy gluten-free peeps need to tell us three times throughout their order, and then, they always end up backtracking after they find out that basically everything they desire to order either contains gluten or is potentially cross-contaminated.

I am waiting tables this time around, and I’m starting to get tired of hearing about it. We have a particular almost-daily regular who tells us every time about her gluten intolerance, tells all the people sitting near her about it, and then proceeds to order items that have gluten.

I am having a bad day when she comes in. She does her normal spiel about being allergic to gluten.

Me: “Yup.”

That isn’t sufficient attention for her. She emphasizes what it does to her delicate system because she’s allergic. Then, she orders the usual: food cooked and prepared in the fryers — which have had gluten-ridden food fried in them all day. I’m thoroughly annoyed now, having to listen to her graphic details about her gut and the effects of gluten.

As usual, I inform her:

Me: “The food you’ve ordered is cooked in fryers that also cook items containing gluten.”

As usual, she replies:

Regular: “Oh, that’s fine.”

I have an evil idea pop into my head.

Me: “Ma’am, you just said you’re allergic to gluten. I cannot in good conscience put this restaurant or my job at risk by serving you food that you will have an allergic reaction to. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to pick another item.”

She’s shocked and starts backtracking. I stand firm.

Me: “No. I’m sorry, but I just can’t do it. If you get sick from the food because I was careless about your allergy, then I could lose my job. These are the items you can choose from today.”

She asked for a manager and I called one over.

My manager was tired of this woman, too, and backed me up after hearing the story. The lady indignantly ordered one of the items I had listed to save face.

Obviously, there was no tip, but I don’t care; it was worth it.

She still came back two days later, miraculously cured of her gluten allergy.

Related:
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 9
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 8
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 7
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 6
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 5

Are You Trying To Mess This Up?

, , , , | Working | January 12, 2023

I work as a cake decorator. Our grocery store bakery has two dish sinks: one by the bakers’ work area and one by the front where I do my thing. This front sink is the focus. One of the handles breaks, essentially making it impossible to turn off the water without using the under-sink shut-off valve, so a guy from the maintenance company is sent.

Maintenance Man: “Wow. It’s so quiet. I’m used to people chatting in places like these.”

Coworker: “Eh. We talk sometimes.”

Me: “Kinda depends on who’s on shift. If [Coworker #2] and [Coworker #3] are on shift, they talk about all kinds of things.”

We have a bit of a laugh, people continue with their work, and he starts on the sink.

At one point, I ask [Maintenance Man] about whether part of the sink design is on purpose or a flaw, thinking, “Hey, he likes socializing, and I’m actually curious.” He seems happy to explain. 

We don’t talk much after that, though part of the time he’s on the phone with his company talking about parts anyway.

Throughout this, [Maintenance Man] has a bit of a dry, not sick, cough that seems to be getting a little worse. I sympathize; I always bring a water bottle with me to work because my throat gets dry a lot.

I offer to get him a water bottle — easy enough as we are literally in a grocery store. He accepts, so I take a minute to grab one off the shelf and have a coworker ring me up for it. [Maintenance Man] ends up downing half of it in one go, so I’m thinking he needed it and feeling glad I offered.

Back to the cake decorating. It’s a fun process, but it is never a completely clean one — less so when making high quantities. Frosting spreads, tools get messy, and piping bags need washing or replacing. So, as part of my process, I have a damp and dry washcloth duo to clean as I go. As such, despite not being able to use my usual sink for cleaning, my workstation is still fairly close to how it would be on any other day, which my direct supervisor has privately commented on being cleaner than BOTH of the other cake decorators’ stations.

I don’t know if [Maintenance Man] thinks I’m not paying attention or has just forgotten that the sink is literally five feet away from my workstation, but sometime later when another coworker passes by, he says to them:

Maintenance Man: “She’s kind of messy, huh?”

I’m a little shocked. 

Me: “Well, maybe if I had a working sink…?”

Likely he was just trying to be social, but REALLY? There are topics that are much less rude. Kindness certainly isn’t transactional, but I don’t think I would have felt as hurt in the moment if I hadn’t gone out of my way first.

Breast To Just Support Her, Part 3

, , , , , | Right | December 30, 2022

Back in 1980, my employer always sent us Business Class if we flew and First Class on trains and ferries. I was flying to Asia and was on the way back from the toilet when another passenger jumped up out of his seat and rushed off to find the flight attendant.

At the top of his voice, he started yelling at her.

Passenger: “That woman over there was breastfeeding in business class!

The woman with her very small baby was being very discreet, and the attendant listened to this and refused to do anything about it.

The man made even more fuss until the chief attendant came back and told him in no uncertain terms that if didn’t like it, he could move into a spare seat in economy and get off at the next stop, which was something like Bombay. In those days of the early 747s, there was a refuelling stop on many long-haul flights.

After the chief attendant left, the passenger walked over and tried to grab the baby out of the mother’s arms!

Fortunately, I was close enough to get hold of the unruly wotsit, and I yelled for the cabin crew, who rapidly appeared and moved the passenger down to a rear seat in economy, despite all his complaining.

In thirty-five years of flying, I never met anyone as bad. He didn’t appear to get back on after the stop.

And the mother asked me to hold the baby while she went to the washroom.

Related:
Breast To Just Support Her, Part 2
Breast To Just Support Her