Not Exactly The Helpful Type

, , , , | Working | March 31, 2019

(I create the ads for a small weekly magazine, and I have a pretty strict time frame to have them completed and signed off before the layout of the publication can commence. The advertising sales manager, however, will take new bookings with no regard to deadlines in an effort to make herself look good. From my point of view, this just means working through lunch or staying late, with no extra pay, to get them done in time.)

Sales Manager: “We have a new ad to make for [Customer].”

Me: *worried* “We’re getting really close to print deadline. I’m not sure I can get it done and signed off in time.”

Sales Manager: “It’s okay. I typed up all the ad copy for you.”

(It’s the layout, design, and sign-off of the ad that tends to take a lot more time than simple copy typing. Still, we’re really short of time, so I’ll take anything I can get that will shorten the process.)

Me: “Thanks. Where did you save the document?”

Sales Manager: *blank look*

Me: “Is it on the shared folder on the server or will you email it to me?”

Sales Manager: “Oh, I didn’t save it.” *hands me a typed piece of paper* “But I typed it up for you.”

Me: *baffled* “But… why would you type it up, and then not save it?”

Sales Manager: “So it’s easier for you to read than handwriting.” *looks very pleased with herself, as if she thinks she’s done me a huge favour*

Me: “…”

Over-Priced

, , , , | Working | March 11, 2019

(I am in the mall with my kids, hurrying to drop them to a movie at the cinema in the mall. I see a product I have heard a lot about but not seen in a shop at a pop-up kiosk, and I stop. My plan is to go shopping while the kids are watching their movie, so I want to know if the product is reasonable, and then I will come back and look at the options.)

Me: “How much are these?”

Salesperson: “Well…” *launches into a spiel about benefits of the product, which I already know*

Me: “Yes, but how much is it?”

Salesperson: *repeats spiel, does not give price*

Me: “Right… I have to go.”

(Surprise, I didn’t buy it, but the kids had fun at their movie. A week later, the shop was gone when I went past again hoping to talk to someone else. Maybe it’s just me, but if you refuse to answer a simple question, I am not going to buy anything from you!)

I’ll Have A Black Hole Pizza With A Side Of Nothing

, , , , , | Working | March 2, 2019

My girlfriend and I and our flatmate decided to pop in for a pizza. It was a quiet night, and we decided to eat in. A round of drinks was ordered and delivered, and a pizza was ordered. Then came the waiting…

And the waiting…

After about thirty minutes, in a quiet restaurant, only three other tables occupied, still no pizza. We called over a staff member and asked politely about the whereabouts of our meal. He said that he would look into it.

Five minutes later, he returned to our table to tell us that our pizza was “lost”! Apparently, somewhere between the kitchen and our table, our pizza had mysteriously vanished into another dimension or something. It may have made its way to the pizza buffet instead of being delivered to our table as ordered. That’s cool — mistakes happen — so he tells us that another pizza is being made and will be delivered as soon as it’s ready. Meanwhile, more drinks are ordered, and we are told that our pizza will be free of charge.

Fair enough, mistake made, rectified, compensation of free pizza, and we’re in no hurry, so we settle down and wait…

And wait…

And wait some more…

Another twenty minutes pass, which is a long time to wait for a pizza that is being made especially for us to replace the earlier lost pizza, so again, we inquire politely of our waiting staff, paraphrasing Oliver Twist, “Please, Sir, may we have some?” A look of horror crosses his face, and he beats the well-worn path to the kitchen.

He returns very swiftly, and sadly empty-handed. He comes straight to the point and says, “I don’t really know how to tell you this, but we’ve lost your second pizza!” He then tells us that a third pizza is being made for us, and that he is going to physically stand next to it, and that as soon as it is ready, he will personally grab it, and deliver it to us.  

Which he does. It’s taken over an hour for one pizza to be successfully delivered the twenty or so feet from the pizza oven to our table! As he delivers the pizza, he is accompanied by the manager of the restaurant. The manager apologises for the apparent black hole in his kitchen, and asks that at the end of the meal we ask for him at the counter.

So, we eat, finally, and at least the pizza is fresh and hot, and quite tasty. After the meal, we go up to the counter and ask to see the manager. The manager comes out to us and apologises again. He asks the cashier for our bill, which he then just tears in half, chucks in the bin, and thanks us for not being d**ks about it.

Still not sure where the pizzas went!

Underprivileged Understanding Is Underwhelming

, , , , | Right | February 10, 2019

(As a receptionist for a local government office, I get a wide variety of people in. I do my best to treat them all with respect, though sometimes it’s not easy. A man comes in who wants to know about funding for local buses. I show him the information, and he notices the funding is separate for regular school buses and for those that transport kids with special physical needs.)

Customer: “Uh… Ah, yes, those buses are for underprivileged kids.”

Me: “Yes, well, they’re for kids, like in wheelchairs. They need ramps and stuff like that.”

Customer: * gives me the most withering, pitying look I’ve ever received* “That’s what ‘underprivileged’ means, dear.”

(I didn’t have the heart to correct him. He was so sure.)

Drivers Know No Other Way To Get Around

, , , , , | Working | January 17, 2019

(It’s 5:30 in the morning and my supervisor and I are in the bus depot, preparing for the first shift of the day. The phone rings. It’s the other early-morning driver, who reports that his car won’t start and he won’t be able to get to work for his first run.)

Supervisor: “I can’t go to collect him because I have the first run out of [Destination #1] in fifteen minutes, and he lives way out in [Distant Suburb].”

Me: “And I have to be driving the bus out of [Destination #2] at the same time.”

Supervisor: “I’ll wake up the mechanic and see if he can help.”

(He does so, and outlines a complex plan which involves him dropping a jump-starter pack from the depot workshop to the mechanic’s house while he is en route to [Destination #1], so the mechanic will then proceed to our colleague’s place to start the car. The supervisor and I will do our own bus runs while also making deviations from our routes that cover the areas that our missing colleague would have done, until the missing driver has finally reached the depot and is able to take over. By the time the supervisor has finished sorting it out, ten minutes have passed and it’s time for us to leave for the early-morning runs.)

Supervisor: “I’ll just go and get the jump-starter pack from the workshop and head out to the mechanic’s house now and… Oh, d***. I don’t know [Colleague]’s exact street address. Would you ring him to get that while I get the jump pack and bus sorted out?”

(Before I can do so, the phone rings again.)

Colleague: “Oh, and by the way, I just moved house last weekend to [a street address only a few minute’s walk from the depot].”

Supervisor: “…”

Me: “…”

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