Blowing Nothing But Hot Air

, , , , , , | Right | December 15, 2017

(I am an apprentice glassblower, learning under a master artisan who has been in the business for over 30 years. One day, I’m working on a piece while my boss works with tourists, answering questions and explaining what I am doing.)

Tourist: *to me* “Excuse me, I have a question.”

Boss: “I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have! He’s working on a time-sensitive piece.”

Tourist: “Uh, no. Excuse me! Excuse me!”

Boss: “Really, please don’t interrupt him. I’m more than happy to answer any questions.”

(The tourist is quiet for a minute, and then starts climbing over the railing to get to me. My boss grabs him back, and I abandon the piece I’m working on to get on the phone to security.)

Tourist: “I just wanted to ask a question, and I knew that old guy wouldn’t know! Is that so hard?”

Me: “What the h*** could you have to ask?”

Tourist: *pointing* “Is that fire hot?”

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Conspiracy Theories Caught On Camera

, , , , , | Friendly | December 15, 2017

(I’m from Germany. I’m traveling across the country on a long-distance bus and decide to use the time to watch a cartoon series a friend recommended to me. A random dude sits behind me and taps on my shoulder, so I take my headphones off.)

Dude: “Hey, do you mind if I watch that with you?”

Me: “Not at all. I even have some splitters on me. It’s in English, though.”

(The dude and I chat for about a minute about some cartoons we both enjoy while he moves his stuff to sit down next to me. Then, he just stares at my laptop blankly for no apparent reason.)

Dude: “You covered your camera.”

Me: “Yup, I did. I normally don’t Skype or anything, so it’s not like it’s an inconvenience or something like that.”

Dude: “You know that nobody’s watching you? God, if I knew you were a paranoid piece of s***, I wouldn’t have talked to you.”

(He continues to launch into a long speech, filled with insults, about conspiracy theories and how I must be completely bonkers for believing them — which I don’t — while I don’t say a word and tune him out for the most part. When he finishes a few minutes later, he demands that I explain myself and justify my “insanity.”)

Me: “My ex-boyfriend is an Anonymous hacker, and he actually did hack into my computer and my webcam. He took some pretty nice pictures of me and sent them to my friends, who kindly beat him up for me. As far as I know, he didn’t try again, and the pictures are gone, but I prefer to have my webcam covered, not that it’s any of your business. Now, either shut up and put your headphones in and watch [Cartoon] quietly without speaking to me, or shut up and leave, which I’d prefer.”

(He left. For anyone interested, my ex and I never crossed paths again and he still hasn’t contacted me five years later, to my immense joy. My friends are still awesome, and I still have no social media, nor do I open anything that isn’t sent to me by a trusted source. Not everyone with their webcams covered is a nut-job. Sometimes their exes are just psycho.)

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Ringside “Seat” To The Uprising

, , , , , | Learning | December 15, 2017

(The first day of kindergarten, we get to choose anywhere we want to sit. Unknown to us, these seats are put on the seating chart. The next time, I want to sit somewhere different.)

Teacher: “Welcome, class. Now, let’s take role with your seating chart.”

(At this point, many of us become scared and confused because we aren’t sitting in our original seats.)

Teacher: “Now that everyone is settled and in their seats from last week, I’ll go down the rows and double-check.”

(She gets out a stamp and starts with the first few kids; they are all sitting in their original seats and get “good job” stamps on their hands. All the kids sigh, realizing we probably won’t be punished. Then she gets to the next kid.)

Teacher: “There is always one kid…”

Kid #1: “One kid who does what?”

Teacher: “One kid like you who sits wherever they want.”

(Then the teacher takes out a stamp and stamps the kid’s forehead. It reads, “Fail.” All of our eyes go wide.)

Kid #2: “My mom will kill me if I have a mark on my forehead!”

Me: “THIS IS PROBABLY AGAINST THE CONSTITUTION!”

All The Kids: “YEAH!”

(All the kids who sat in the right places stay quiet while the rest of us chant. At that moment, the teacher stamps my forehead three times with the “fail” stamp. I am very sensitive and begin to cry.)

Me: “But… but… I was just… just… telling the truth!”

Teacher: “Now, listen: there will be no uprisings in my class this year!”

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Racism Will No Longer Be Accepted For Delivery

, , , , , , , | Working | December 14, 2017

(I work as a receptionist for a small video editing company. The boss is the epitome of evil, a real piece of s***. She seems to really have it out for our delivery man, who is African-American. We have a table in the lobby with a book where all packages going out are written down. The delivery man is supposed to come by, check the table, and pick up any packages that are there. The table is in front of a large window and it is pretty obvious if there are any packages going out. The boss storms in and angrily asks:)

Boss: “Is the delivery guy coming in and getting the packages?”

Me: “He is checking daily, yes.”

Boss: “That isn’t what I asked. Is he physically coming into the building?”

Me: “Well, no. If the table is empty he—”

(The boss storms off and gets on the phone and calls, screaming at the poor customer service person. My boss gets so obsessive that she even starts checking the surveillance cameras to make sure he comes into the lobby and doesn’t just open the door and peek in. She insists that he come all the way into the lobby, close the door behind him, stand at the table for a few seconds, and then leave. I am getting more than annoyed by this. She calls almost daily, screaming about the poor guy. One day he calls me because he is running behind and asks if there are any packages. I tell him he is in luck; not only are there none, but the boss is out that day. The next day he comes in and the boss is there to yell at him again. She has checked the surveillance tapes. When he leaves, she comes to my desk and says that he had better just do his job.)

Me: “You know that these delivery guys only have so much time to deliver, and any place they can shave off a few seconds really helps them.”

Boss: “I don’t care. The only thing that n***** should say, is, ‘Yeth, Masta.’”

(Then she storms off to call and complain again. I am in too much shock and, shamefully, I say nothing. I am gone by the next week. I get a great job as a receptionist at a company a few miles down the road, and who should walk in my first week there but the delivery guy, with a trainee in tow. We greet each other like old friends.)

Delivery Guy: “I am so glad to see you here away from that awful woman.”

Me: “I am, too. I am so glad I got to see you! And I am so sorry for the horrible way she treats you.”

Delivery Guy: “I just don’t know what her problem is.”

Me: “You don’t know?” *he shakes his head, and I quietly tell him, embarrassed* “It’s because you are black.”

(He and the trainee both look shocked.)

Me: “She would not have given you any trouble if you were white. She only called and made up ridiculous complaints because she hated you because of the color of your skin. She is a horrible racist. I can’t even begin to repeat the horrible racist comments she would make when you left the building or after she would get off the phone with customer service complaining about you. I just couldn’t stand being there anymore, which is why I left.”

(He shakes my hand and leaves. The next week, he comes in without the trainee.)

Me: “Hello, again! Is your trainee out on his own?”

Delivery Guy: “That wasn’t my trainee; that was my manager. You saved my job.”

Me: “What? How?”

Delivery Guy: “That blasted ex-boss of yours called and complained so much that when a normal and justified complaint came in, the company was going to fire me. The manager was going around with me to see what I was doing wrong and if I was even going to have the chance to keep my job. After we left here, he told me I was good, and there would be no more talk about it. As a matter of fact, the delivery company cancelled your ex-boss’s contract and told her they would no longer deliver for or to her. She will have to drive to the hub to get any packages that are mailed to her.”

(I was so thrilled. Several years later I got to congratulate him on a well-deserved promotion before I left on maternity leave.)

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Hopefully A Hot Slice Of Karma Gets Back To Them

, , , , , | Working | December 14, 2017

(There’s a knock at the door. I answer and am surprised to see a pizza guy standing there.)

Me: “Uh, I’m sorry, but we didn’t order any pizza.”

Pizza Guy: “You didn’t?”

Me: “No. Sorry.”

Pizza Guy: “Do you know where [My Address] is?”

Me: “Yeah, that’s here, but we didn’t order anything.”

Pizza Guy: “Okay, well, sorry for disturbing you.”

(I close the door and assume that’s the end of it, but five minutes later there’s another knock. The pizza guy is there and he looks furious.)

Pizza Guy: “We just figured out it was a ‘prank’ from an ex-employee. He ordered about twenty pizzas to be delivered to random addresses. Here, have a free one.”

(He gave us a free, extra cheese pizza and turned around to walk back to his car. We felt so badly that my dad chased him down to the driveway and gave him a tip for his trouble. Dear ex-employee: You are a jerk for doing that to your former coworkers and thinking it’s funny. Dear delivery guy: Thanks for the free pizza. Hope your day got better!)

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