Coworker’s Feeling A Little Sheepish

, , , , | Working | April 15, 2020

(I’m talking with a coworker about a restaurant she went to with her family last night.)

Coworker: “It was really good. They had lamb.”

Me: “Eww! Poor little lamb!”

Coworker: “Well, it’s not like it was a baby one or anything!”

Me: *blinks* “But a lamb is a baby, [Coworker]. A baby sheep.”

Coworker: “What? No, I’m sure it was a full-grown lamb. They wouldn’t eat a baby one.”

Me: “All lambs are baby sheep, [Coworker]. If it’s a full-grown one, it’s a sheep. Lambs are, by definition, sheep who are under a year old.”

Coworker: “Well… I didn’t eat any.” *nervous laugh*

Me: “It’s okay if you did, [Coworker]. Just because I don’t eat meat, it doesn’t mean you can’t.”

Coworker: “I’m sure lambs aren’t babies, though. They wouldn’t eat a baby.” *walks off muttering about eating babies*

(We both grew up in the same general area, an area that is known for farming and lots of farm animals. I kind of thought everyone knew that a lamb was a baby sheep, though, especially people around our area, where there are sheep and lambs like every mile.)

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Some Days You Just Feel Old

, , , , , | Working | April 3, 2020

(I started working as a personal assistant to the elderly in August. Since then, I have begun receiving calls for final expenses. I have no clue how they got my number, but whatever. Usually, I just hang up, but this time I want to try and get on the do-not-call list and press a number to speak with a rep.)

Rep: “Hello, thank you for holding. How may I help you?”

Me: “Hey there. This phone belongs to a 35-year-old. I do not need final expenses. Can you please remove my number from your database?”

Rep: “Oh, I see.”

Me: “…”

Rep: “…”

Me: “So, can you please remove my number?”

Rep: “Are you sure you’re 35?”

Me: *confused pause* “Am I sure I’m 35?”

Rep: “Yes.”

Me: “Yes. Yes, I am. Stop calling.”

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Another Day, Another Bold-Faced Liar

, , , | Working | April 1, 2020

(I answer the phone for the umpteenth time this morning. Everything’s been normal and boring so far, just how I like it.)

Me: “Good morning, this is [Business]. My name is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Hey. Can I speak to [Dining Manager], please?”

Me: “Let me see if he’s in. May I ask who’s calling?”

Caller: “Yeah, this is [Caller]. He’ll know who I am.”

Me: “Okay, just a moment, please. Let me see if [Dining Manager] is in.”

(He is; he’s just walked in the door and is listening. He motions for the phone and I take it off hold to hand to him.)

Dining Manager: “Hello, this is [Dining Manager].”

(He says, “Uh-huh,” and, “Okay,” and other general murmurs of agreement as the caller speaks.)

Dining Manager: “That sounds great; what company are you from again?”

(He listens some more and then his face screws up, and he makes a “WTF” face.)

Dining Manager: “Well, I think if you’re looking to sell me some cleaning chemicals, you could tell me what company you’re selling for.”

(He listens some more.)

Dining Manager: “No, if you can’t tell me what company this is, I think… Huh, he hung up.”

Me: “What the heck was that all about?”

Dining Manager: “It was a scam. They basically offer you a box of free chemicals and then when you eventually get them, they charge you. Idiots.”

Me: “So, I’m guessing you didn’t know [Caller], huh?” *laughing*

Dining Manager: “Nope.” *also laughing*

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How She Made Her Millions: Stealing Tea

, , , , , | Working | April 1, 2020

(I work in an assisted living facility. Part of my job is taking care of a small beverage station in the front lobby that is self-serve, although I tend to make the hot drinks for the residents or anyone else who needs the help. In front of the station is a wooden box with different kinds of tea and packets to make hot chocolate. Most people — in fact, everyone I’ve seen except for this one woman — takes one packet, tea bag, or whatever they need for the one drink they’re having at that moment. But this one woman is family of one of the residents, in her 30s or 40s, looks very well-off — expensive brand-name clothing, Coach purse, drives a BMV — and looks fit and healthy. She doesn’t understand the concept of “take one.” She takes ALL of them every time she comes in. She cleans us out. My boss won’t let me directly call her out on it, either. I have finally had enough, so when I see her the next time parking her car and coming in, just after I have unlocked the door, I walk over to the beverage station while she signs in and fuss around straightening it up. I hide the tea bags and hot chocolate packets in the cabinet underneath. She comes up to do her daily “shopping” and…)

Woman: “Oh! Where are the tea packets and the hot chocolate?”

Me: “I’m sorry, we’ve gotten rid of them because someone keeps stealing them all at once and it’s costing us too much money.”

(The woman’s eyes widen and she huffs.)

Woman: “They’re for everyone, aren’t they?!”

Me: *still entirely polite* “Yes, everyone was welcome to take what they needed to make one drink at a time. But someone was taking everything at once, so now no one gets tea or hot chocolate. I’m sorry.” 

(I smiled at her. The woman stomped her foot like a child, got a single cup of black coffee, and stalked off. Petty? Maybe. But the next couple of times I saw her come in, she got her single cup of coffee and went about her visit, ignoring the tea bags and hot chocolate packets I had put back out. Feels like a victory to me.)

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The Human Step-Counter

, , , , , | Working | March 29, 2020

(I fall off my bike on my way to get some dinner before covering an overnight shift at the front desk for my coworker on a night I don’t usually work. I bang up my knee pretty good, but I am able to walk and everything, and working at a retirement home means orphaned canes. This is about twelve hours after I fell, and my shift is over. We have calendars listing weekly events in the elevators.)

Coworker: “You didn’t change the calendars last night.”

Me: “No, I fell off my bike. Can’t walk that far. I can wait here if you want to do them now.”

Coworker: “No, I’ll get someone else to do them. Why didn’t you do them?”

Me: “Because I fell off my bike yesterday.”

Coworker: “But you can walk?”

Me: “Yeah, it’s not that bad, but it’s really limited how many steps I can take today.”

Coworker: “But you didn’t change the calendars.”

Me: “Yeah, because I can’t walk that far. My knee hurts.”

Coworker: “But you can walk home?”

Me: “Yes, because I didn’t do the calendars.”

Coworker: “Then why didn’t you do the calendars?”

Me: “Because I can only walk so far. And not fast enough to catch the elevators.”

Coworker: “Then why didn’t you come back to the desk and rest in between?”

Me: “Because that is physically more steps.”

Coworker: “No, it’s not; you rest in between.”

Me: “It’s physically more steps.”

Coworker: “Whatever. Why didn’t you stay home?”

Me: “Because I was already covering a shift and there wasn’t anybody to take it?”

Coworker: “I wouldn’t have come in if I was in pain.”

(Note: this coworker didn’t show up for her shift the day before, stranding the coworker I was covering for two extra hours and making our boss work the shift.)

Me: “Well, I have chronic pain, so it isn’t that big of a deal.”

Coworker: “Then why didn’t you do the calendars?”

Me: “Because I have a limited number of steps.”

Coworker: “Whatever. I don’t believe you anyway.”

Me: “All right, if you could only eat 2,000 calories a day, you wouldn’t spend it all on candy, right? You would eat something else? That’s what I’m doing with my steps. I have a limited number.”

Coworker: “I don’t get it.”

Me: “And I don’t think you ever will.”

(I limped out then with my cane. As it was the weekend, I had to go further to catch public transit and barely made it home as it was. I don’t think I would have made it if I’d done the calendars. I’m very glad that I don’t see her very often. Thanks for nothing, [Coworker]!)

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