She Has A Crab Mentality

, , , , , | Right | June 29, 2018

(At the touch tank of the local aquarium, this happens:)

Guest: “Can you make the hermit crabs gladiator fight?”

Me: “Sorry?”

Guest: “Yeah, like, can you make them fight each other?”

Me: “Well, they’re typically not aggressive to each other, and for the safety of our animals, we try not to encourage or instigate fights between them.”

Guest: “Well, I bet I can make them fight to the death, like, a gladiator fight.”

Me: “Please don’t do that.”

(The guest takes the hermit crabs out of the water, places them next to each other, and goes as far as to draw a circle around the hermit crabs for them to “fight” in.)

Me: “Please let the hermit crabs go.”

Guest: “Okay, okay.”

(Luckily for me, she left, and the hermit crabs scuttled away from each other without fighting. All was well, but please, lady, listen to the employees! They know what they’re doing!)

They’re Colder Than The Fridge

, , , , , | Working | June 28, 2018

(After nearly twenty years of verbal and physical abuse from my overbearing father, my mum has finally worked up the courage to leave him. The council allocates us a new house, and most of our furniture is odd bits and pieces donated by relatives. The only luxuries Mum has allowed herself are a new carpet, and kitchen appliances. She tries to order a fridge from [Catalogue], but on the day of delivery we get a call to say the lorry’s broken down and we’ll get the fridge next week. Bearing in mind we have eaten microwave meals for a week — as we only have a microwave — and the fact my brother is special needs, Mum rings to ask if it can be delivered sooner. The customer services woman sounds like she really couldn’t care less, and Mum complains about her, but it is agreed the fridge will be delivered the next day. Next afternoon, we get a phone call from the delivery men.)

Delivery Man: “Right, well, we can’t find your house on the GPS, ’cause it’s a new build, isn’t it?”

Mum: “Yes, the rest of [Street] is a building site. If you tell me where you are–“

Delivery Man: *shouting* “Just give us the f****** street names, would you? We’re from Bristol. We don’t know this f****** town.”

Mum: *in tears* “I’m sorry, but I don’t like your attitude. You know what? Just leave it. I’ll get a fridge from somewhere else–“

Delivery Man: “S***.”

(My mum hangs up on him, sobbing about men and how horrible people are these days. After giving her a hug, I convince her to ring up to complain, but before she can, she gets a call from a nice customer service woman. The nice woman assures her she did nothing wrong, writes down directions to our house, and promises that the delivery men will be on their best behaviour. A few minutes later, we see the white lorry reverse down our half-finished street. We know they’ll be trouble before they even come to the door, because a builder asks them to move to one side so they can get a forklift down to the building site.)

Delivery Man: “F*** off, mate.”

(The builder backs off, but keeps an eye on them, as do the rest of his team.)

Mum: *opens the door, and looks at the delivery men’s muddy shoes* “I’m really sorry, but would you mind taking your shoes off? I have a new carpet and—”

Delivery Man: “No, can’t do that. Look, do you want this f****** fridge or not?”

Mum: *finally losing her temper* “You know what? Just forget it. FORGET IT! Just take the d*** thing back and I’ll get my money back.”

(She closed the door on them. Grumbling, they went back to their lorry and sped off. The builders waited until they’d left before resuming their work. Needless to say, we’re going to order a fridge from somewhere else.)

Wisdom Teeth Require The Wise To Remove Them

, , , , , | Healthy | June 28, 2018

I go to the dentist to get my wisdom teeth out. I have had two shots already and the laughing gas on, no big problem. 

He starts trying to pull one tooth out that grew in crooked and I tell him that it is hurting. He gives me another shot, which should deaden it right then. He tells me not to be such a baby. Then, instead of being gentle and rocking it back and forth to loosen it before pulling it, he grabs a pair of pliers and snatches the tooth straight out of the gum!

He starts doing that with my other one on the same side. I bite the fire out of him. He has the nerve to tell my mom that I “need to be more prepared for a dental visit.” Not when one almost snatches your gums out of your mouth!  

I go straight from that dentist to one that treated me when I was a child. He is super nice, and he helps straighten out what the other one did to me. He takes one look in my mouth and says, “When was the last time you went to a dentist?” I reply, “I just came from one.”

Time We All Sat Down For A Plow-Wow

, , , , , | Working | June 28, 2018

(Due to all of the on-street parking, the plows around here never clear out the whole street. The portion where cars would park or sit idle is left to the duty of the people who wish to park their cars there. There are exactly two exceptions to this. One is when a resident hires a private plowing service. The second is when there’s so much snow the plows run out of places to push the snow. In the latter case, typically they’ll instead use a truck and a backhoe to cart the snow off, whereas the former case is simply more pushing. I live on a street corner, so I have about double the shoveling just for the sidewalk alone. One particularly bad winter, just as I round the corner to tackle the second half of the sidewalk, I see a plow pushing the snow off the street, and right into the fence around my backyard. The fence is visibly leaning as he’s pushing, and he is still going back to push more in. Phone in hand, I snap a picture of his whole plow and then his license plate before tapping his door with my shovel. He rolls down his window just as I snap a photo of his face.)

Me: “What do you think you’re doing?”

Plow Driver: “I have to get the snow off the street.”

Me: “By pushing it into my fence?”

Plow Driver: “I have to put it somewhere.”

Me: “So, Mr. [License Plate Number], have you noticed my once-upright fence is now leaning?

Plow Driver: *speechless*

Me: “If my fence breaks under the weight of all that snow and your plow, are you going to pay for it, or will I have to sue the city and show them this photo of you behind the wheel of your plow to see that money?”

Plow Driver: *drives off rapidly*

(I continue my shoveling, starting with the mess he left me. The good news is I get everything cleared in that morning. That afternoon, I see a different plow clearing another neighbor’s driveway, again pushing the snow into my driveway. Phone in hand again, I snap the same the same two photos as before, but this time I notice something interesting. Unlike the first plow, this plow has a New Hampshire license plate. I then tap the door, and the driver — someone completely different — rolls down his window as I snap the third photo.)

Me: “What do you think you’re doing?”

Plow Driver #2: *pointing to a house* “My sister lives right over there. She asked me to clear out her driveway.”

Me: “So you’re pushing it into my driveway, after I cleared out all the snow?”

Plow Driver #2: “Uh… Sorry.”

Me: “By the way, I noticed you have New Hampshire plates.”

Plow Driver #2: “Yeah, I live up there. I just came down to help my sister.”

Me: “Oh, okay. So if I called the police and reported you, Mr. [License Plate Number] whose sister lives at [Address], would they find you have a license to operate a plow in the state of Massachusetts?”

Plow Driver #2: *pause* “Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll clear out the snow I pushed in front of your house, and anytime you want, I’ll plow it again for free.”

Me: “No.”

Plow Driver #2: “‘No’?”

Me: “You’re an a**hole! All you’d do is push the snow into someone else’s driveway! Now get lost!”

(He drove off. After breaking my back all day, I spent the closing hours of the day in front of my television to goof off. Around eight at night, however, I heard the distinctive beeping of a large vehicle backing up, and a sound akin to rolling rocks and metal clanging. Curious, I poked my head out the window. Rather than taking the deliberate approach of carefully chipping away at the ice-walls my neighbors, the plows, and myself had made during the day, they believed the most efficient way to get the snow was to knock all the walls over and the scoop it up slowly; the clanging was the avalanche hitting my fence. It probably wouldn’t have been a big deal, if their schedule didn’t say they had to clock out at nine exactly, and the next shift actually started where they left off. As a result, all of our sidewalks were buried again, our driveways had become obstructed, and there were no clearings for the crosswalks or bus stop. So, in the middle of the night, I went back to work. Thanks a lot, plow drivers!)

Treating Disabilities Is Going Down The Toilet

, , , , | Working | June 27, 2018

(I am pregnant and have had awful morning sickness lasting the whole day. At about five weeks, I let my manager know so she won’t wonder about my extended bathroom breaks. I work in a large office building full of gossips. I am worried people will hear me getting sick or notice me being in the cubicle for ages and spread rumours before I am ready to announce my pregnancy. My manager speaks to HR, who notifies Building Security that I will temporarily need to use the only disabled toilet in the building, which is near the security desk. They also say we don’t currently have any registered disabled employees, so I can take as long as I need in there. A few days later, I am in the middle of a bout of morning sickness when someone tries the door. I ignore it and, as they don’t knock, I assume they have gone away. About five minutes later, the sickness has passed, so I wash up and exit. An angry woman I haven’t seen before is outside the door.)

Woman: “Finally! What was taking you so long?!”

Me: “Uh… That’s really none of your business.”

Woman: “It is when you keep me waiting. I have places to be.”

Me: “Well, you could have used one of the standard bathrooms instead of waiting.”

Woman: “No, I want to use this toilet. Why are you in there, anyway?”

Me: “I already told you: that’s none of your business.”

Woman: “But you’re not disabled!”

Me: “You don’t know that.”

Woman: “Yes, I do! You look normal! You’re not disabled!”

Me: “On that basis, neither are you, so why are you insisting on using the disabled toilet?”

Woman: “It’s none of your business! How dare you?!”

Me: “My point exactly.”

Woman: “Oh, f*** off. Why didn’t you answer me when I knocked?”

Me: “You didn’t knock. You tried the handle and then I thought you left.”

Woman: “Well, you should have told me you were in there.”

Me: “Did the locked door not make it obvious?”

Woman: “You’re such a b****. Just f****** let me in. And in future, stay away from this toilet. It’s not for you to use.”

(At this point one of the security guards comes over to see what the fuss is about. I fill him in.)

Security Guard: “[Woman], this is a disabled bathroom and is for use by employees who are permanently or temporarily disabled. You cannot stop someone from using it, and you cannot ask someone why they are using it. We normally turn a blind eye to people using this bathroom, but I’m now going to have to ask you to use the other bathrooms.”

Woman: “You can’t do that! It’s discrimination! I need to use this toilet; she doesn’t! She’s only faking. She just doesn’t want to do any work.”

Security Guard: “If you have a need to use this bathroom, please let HR know and they will notify us. Until then, you must use the normal bathrooms.”

Woman: “I won’t stand for this! I’ll contact HR to make a complaint.” *to me* “Tell me your name so I can tell HR what you’re up to.”

Me: “Happily. It’s [My Name].”

(Afterwards, a number of my colleagues told me this woman had emailed them to ask what my disability was, so I complained to HR. It turns out she had already complained to HR about me using the disabled toilet. When they said I had a legitimate reason to use the bathroom, she tried to get information on my disability from HR. This was the last in a long line of complaints against the woman, and she was let go.)

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