Elton John’s Early Adventures

, , , , , | Friendly | February 15, 2020

(Two friends and I are the tender age of 18 and decide to go out clubbing for the first time. We find a club, we party, we drink… waaaaay too much. We decide to leave but can barely make it down the stairs. I have a vague recollection of someone shouting, “Call an ambulance!”, but us shooing them away saying we are fine. So, there we are, standing at the edge of the main street of the busy clubbing area, dozens of people walking past us, with no idea how to proceed as we are all too trashed to even work out how to get home. After a while, a man dressed in sparkly trousers, crazy yellow glasses, and a white furry coat, carrying a speaker and another couple of large bags, comes to talk to us.)

Man: “Are you guys heading somewhere?”

Us: “Yeah, we just need to get home.”

Man: “You look like you’ve had a big night. Where are you heading?”

Us: “[Suburb].”

Man: “Okay, well, if you don’t mind coming via [Other Suburb 15 minutes from ours], we can share a cab, and then I can drive you home.”

Us: *with, apparently, no idea about personal safety* “Oh, that would be so good. Thank you!”

Man: “It’s all good. I’m a DJ; I’ve just been playing at [Nearby Club]. I see people like you guys all the time; it’s kind of refreshing. I’m happy to help.”

(He gets us a cab, loads his stuff in the back, opens the passenger door for us and gets in the front. We try to be polite and ask about his DJ-ing, but none of us can make much coherent conversation. We get to his place and get out of the cab, which he jumps in to pay for before any of us can offer.)

Man: “If you guys just want to wait on the path, I’ll just get my gear inside and get the car.”

(He returned in five minutes with his car, we piled in the back seat and gave him the address, again trying unsuccessfully to converse, and we were soon at our destination, all of us trying not to fall asleep or vomit. We got out, the man wished us well and drove off, and we all somehow managed to get into the flat and collapse on the floor for the next ten hours. Twenty years later, my friend and I still refer to this man as “the angel.” We couldn’t remember his DJ name so we were never able to track him down and soberly thank him or pay for the cab fare. Our night could have ended horrifically. We were unbelievably lucky to have such a nice, honest, decent bloke come to our aid in our moment of need. He never even said anything to make fun of us for our predicament — which would have been totally warranted. The world needs less drunk teenage idiots and more blokes like this guy.)

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Their Mistake, Period

, , , , , | Working | February 14, 2020

My partner and I have ordered some new doors for our house. The salesperson was excellent; knowledgeable and friendly. He arranges for someone to come measure up our place.

A man comes out to our house to do the measuring; he turns out the be the owner. He, too, is very friendly. He advises he’ll go back to his office, draw up a quote, and let us know the price. 

He calls the following day and we are happy with the cost, so he says he will email an official quote through for us to pay a deposit. After a few days, we haven’t received anything, so I give him a call and he resends it.

The next day, I still haven’t received anything, so I give him another call and confirm my email address with him. It turns out he’s been putting a period in it (i.e jane.doe) when there shouldn’t be one. He says he’ll send the quote again.

I still receive nothing, so this time I email the owner, hoping he can just reply directly to me. Still nothing.

Another few days later, he calls me; I think he must want to discuss the emails, but nope! His shop carpenter has looked at the measurements he came and took from my house and told him they make no sense. He needs to come back out to the house and measure them again. So, we make a time and out he comes. 

When he is back in my house and in person, I discuss the email situation. He adamantly tells me he fixed it and shows me the order form he has in his hands to prove it… and what do you know, it’s still wrong. I write on his form my correct email address, even writing “NO DOT” next to it. Off he goes again.

Finally, he successfully sends me the quote, I pay it in full, and I email him remittance. I’m sure you can guess where this is going, but no receipt is returned. I call, ask for the receipt, he says he’s sent it. He reads the email address out to me on the phone…

“J-A-N-E-DOT-D-O-E…” and around we go again.

Our doors have finally been installed and are excellent — and thankfully the right size! — and the staff were nothing but friendly, but wow, what a trip to get there! And before you say I should have taken my business elsewhere when it started going wrong… I know. Hindsight is a b**** like that.

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Smoking Is The Key To Looking Young

, , , , , , | Right | February 14, 2020

(Back when photo IDs are easier to fake, I am a cashier at a convenience store. The age to buy cigarettes is eighteen. A young guy who looks sixteen or seventeen brings up some soft drinks and snacks to the checkout.)

Me: “Good evening. Anything else?”

Young Guy: “Oh, and a pack of [cheap popular cigarettes] and a lighter.”

Me: *before I get the cigarettes* “Sure, I just need to see some ID.”

(He pulls out what looks to be a state-issued ID that almost gets me.)

Me: “Oh, wow. You have to tell me your secret.”

Young Guy: “Um… secret?”

Me: “According to this, you’ve just turned 118. I’ve got to say you look amazing. What’s your secret?”

Young Guy: *looking defeated* “Um… so, I guess no smokes, then?”

Me: “That’s right, and I’m sorry but policy is to permanently ban you.”

Young Guy: *with his head hung low* “Can I at least have the ID back?”

Me: “Sorry, but I can’t do that.”

(He left the store and I passed it along to the police who regularly come in for coffee. Even they were impressed with the quality but had to laugh at the mistake.)

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What Awesome Looks Like

, , , , , , | Right | February 13, 2020

I am working the self-serve checkouts, and a little old lady asks me for help. As I check her out, she doesn’t say much, just clarifying that it is credit and she wants to sign. There are no problems with the card, so I go to help out another customer, leaving the lady to make her way to her car.

As I finish with the other customer, I turn around to see the little old lady tearing out of the car park in her pimped-out Hummer, windows down, screaming, “F*** yeah!”

My coworker and I both break down with laughter for the next ten minutes.

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Insurance Fraud Knows No Gender

, , , , , , | Legal | February 13, 2020

(I work in an insurance call center. As a call taker, the first thing I need to do is verify the caller is either the owner or authorized person on the policy. Whilst we do get people attempting to access information fraudulently, most of the time it’s simply an individual who can’t be bothered trying to explain to their elderly, hard-of-hearing relative or non-English-speaking relative that they need to be authorized to speak to us. We cannot outright accuse someone of acting fraudulently, especially if they correctly answer the security questions. It’s frustrating for us, so I developed a way of checking that never fails to result in them hanging up.)

Caller: *clearly very male voice, not elderly* “Yes, my name is [Female Name], [account number], [birth date that would make this person much older than they sound].”

Me: “Thank you for calling, Mrs. [Female Name]. How can I help today?”

(I note that there are no authorized persons on the policy)

Caller: “I need to change my address.”

Me: “I can certainly take care of that for you, Mrs. [Female Name]. While I am making that change for you, may I double-check that I have the correct date of birth for you?”

Caller: “Um… yes… it’s…” *pause, a rustle of paper* “[Birth date].”

Me: “Great, thank you. May I also ask a personal question?”

Caller: *tone slightly uncomfortable* “Yeah, what is it?”

Me: “Do you identify as male, female, or other, Mrs. [Female Name]? We’re able to update that for you with no paperwork. We like to ensure we are using your preferred pronouns.”

Caller: “…” *click* 

(Never failed.)

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