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Not Very Closed-Minded, Part 47

, , , , | Right | August 20, 2021

I work as a manager at a popular fast food place. We are having renovations, so we have to close the store for a day and a half.

We have about a week’s notice, so we put up signs that we will be closing the next Monday and reopening on Tuesday lunchtime. We tell our customers, as well, and let them know that another one of our franchises is less than ten minutes away and still open.

It is Tuesday. Another manager and I are rostered in the morning to clean up and test the equipment and everything before reopening.

Many people come knocking on the door asking to come in, completely ignoring the huge sign that we are closed until lunchtime and the obvious work being done. It’s getting to about two hours before reopening and our staff are slowly arriving for their shifts via the back door.

To get to the back door, you must first enter a huge gate that states, “Authorised Personnel Only.” Inside is our giant dumpster, and there is another gate to the side with another sign saying, “Employees Only,” and then there are our recycling dumpster, chemical cupboards, and the back door, which also has a sign saying, “No entry without manager’s permission.”

Imagine our surprise when an elderly woman and two young children enter through the back door.

Customer: “I couldn’t get in the front door! Also, this entrance is disgusting!”

Me: “Did you not see the signs? We are under construction right now; we are not open. Please leave, as it’s a hazard for you to be here.”

Customer: “What signs?! There are no signs! Can we get some kids’ meals now? This place is gross! There’s dust everywhere!”

Me: “No. We are closed and under construction; however, another location is open. Do you need directions?”

Customer: “No, I don’t drive. I don’t understand why this entrance is so disgusting! In fact, this whole place is disgusting! What type of place are you running here?!”

Me: “We are closed. Leave now; you cannot be here!”

Customer: “Not without my meals; my grandkids are starving! They should be free as this place is disgusting! I’m calling the owner; he’ll be disgusted, too!”

I laugh a little inside as the owners are women.

Me: “Leave, before I call the police!”

Customer: “The owner will be disgusted with his place like this! Come on, kids. She’ll be fired once I call the owner! This place is gross! You hear me? You’ll be fired!”

She turned around and ran into an employee, knocking him to the floor. Again, she started screaming and complaining, but at least she was walking out. Those kids looked mortified. Some people need to learn to read.

Related:
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 46
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 45
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 44
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 43
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 42

Uh… Thanks For The Information?

, , , , , | Friendly | August 20, 2021

You meet some strange people when walking about. A stranger in the street asked me:

Stranger: “Do you know the time?”

Me: “No, sorry.”

They looked at their watch.

Stranger: “It’s just gone ten o’clock.”

I’m Glad Someone Here Knows What’s Going On

, , , , , , | Related | August 19, 2021

I manage support for mainframe computers and have done so for many years. My kids have grown up around a great deal of tech, but I’ve never taught them anything specifically related to mainframe.

I am out shopping with my oldest daughter, who is a teen, when I got a call. Since we are close to the office and it is a weekend, I just take her in with me. She can read a book and wait until the problem is fixed. It’s not uncommon when you’re the support lead, so she knows the drill.

As often is the case, one problem leads to another problem. We’ve been in the office about three hours by this point, and there are now three of us support staff in the office, plus my daughter.

All of a sudden, my daughter gets up and walks over to where my employee is working. Though he is the youngest of us three, he has at least a decade on my daughter.

Daughter: *Pointing to something on the screen* “That job is blocking up the queue. It’s sorting the records by time, but it’s trying to recalculate all the time to daylight saving and that takes longer. Just delete it and tell the Red team that they need to run job 8-B. Job 8-A only gets run on the night daylight saving switches over, and it’ll be replaced when [project] finishes, anyway. The problems on [system 1 and 2] are cascaded because job 8-A’s mucking up the times in the records in real time.”

All three of us turn to look at her.

Me: “[Daughter], why do you think that’s the problem?”

Daughter: “It’s the same problem you had on CICS4 last week.”

I may talk about my work in front of my kids more than I realised. Yes, she was right.


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Candy Wrapped In A Mystery Inside An Enigma

, , , , | Right | August 19, 2021

Customer: “Excuse me. Do you sell these anywhere?”

He holds up the most nondescript chocolate wrapper I’ve ever seen. It’s pink cellophane, clearly an individual wrapper from a tin or a box of chocolates. There is no branding on it, nor any kind of notable feature whatsoever. It’s just a small pink wrapper.

Me: “I’m not sure. Do you know what the brand was called?”

Customer: “No, sorry.”

Me: “Okay, that makes things trickier. Do you know what the packaging looked like?”

The customer just shows me the pink wrapper again.

Me: “Was it just this, though, or did it come in a tin or box or something?”

Customer: “There were more.”

Me: “Did they come in a tin or in a box?”

Customer: “I can’t remember.”

Me: “What kind of chocolate was it?”

Customer: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Like, was it regular chocolate, or did it have a filling?”

Customer: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Have you bought it here before?”

Customer: “I’m not sure.”

Me: “So, you don’t know what kind of chocolate it was, what kind of packaging it came in, what the brand was called, or even if you’ve bought it here before?”

Customer: “Yes. Can you find out if you have it here?”

One of my coworkers eventually walked him over to the chocolate aisle to look, but as he had no idea what he was after beyond there being a pink wrapper involved, they got nowhere fast. Add to this the fact that it was a week before Christmas, so the variety of tins and boxes of chocolates we carry multiplied by quite a lot, and it’s no surprise that he left empty-handed.

I Don’t Math Good When I’m Tired, Either

, , , , , , | Working | August 18, 2021

I’m in a shop known for its alternative fashion. I approach the counter to ring up my item.

Cashier: “Is that all today? That’ll be $88.”

I hand over my cash and they hand me back $12 in change.

Cashier: “Oh! You’ve spent over $50, so feel free to pick out a gift from our mystery box.”

I pick out a beanie. They go to fold up my item and notice an old sale tag of $70.40 on it.

Cashier: “We can honour this price. Let me just ring it up for you again.”

I’m pleasantly surprised, and I wait for them to scan it again. And then I wait. And wait. They mumble something about a calculator being bad, and I realise they can’t figure out how much to give me in change. I mentally do the math and realise the amount of change I’m supposed to have, but I am too socially awkward to bring it up. Eventually, they call their coworker over.

Cashier: “How much change am I supposed to give them? The calculator’s broken.”

Coworker: “Uhhh… seventeen… sixty? I think? Do you have your phone calculator on you?”

Cashier: “That sounds right… but I want to make sure.”

Me: “Yeah, it’s $17.60.”

I open the calculator on my phone and show them the maths. The cashier finally hands me my change.

Cashier: “Sorry about that. It’s been a long day; I don’t trust my head.”

Me: “I get that. Have a nice day!”

I walked out of that shop with an extra beanie, three receipts, and $17.60 more than I expected, as well as a story to tell.