Trying To Get A Foothold On The Performance

, , , , | Learning | June 9, 2017

(I am in an adult improv class. Our first public performance is tomorrow night. The teacher is going over what students need to know about the show.)

Student #1: “Do we have to wear shoes tomorrow night for the performance?”

Teacher: “Yes, you have to wear shoes.”

Student #2: “Do flip-flops count?”

Teacher: “Seriously? Why can’t you just wear normal shoes?”

Student #2: “I don’t wear shoes.”

Teacher: “What if you were going to a wedding?”

Student #2: “I don’t go to weddings.”

Student #3: “What if I henna’d my feet?”

Teacher: “Okay, if you go to the trouble to get your feet henna’d by tomorrow, you can go barefoot.”

Student #2: “I just don’t feel grounded if I’m wearing shoes.”

Teacher: “Remember when I said last week that you can wear anything you want, but to make some effort to look nice?!”

Student #3: “Bare feet look nice.”

(Did I mention that this was a class for ADULTS?)

Idiot, Name Thyself

, , , , , | Right | June 8, 2017

(A few days after Christmas, I come down with a flu bug that is going around, so I go to the after-hours clinic in our local city. When we arrive, there is at least a two-hour wait, so I sit patiently waiting my turn. About an hour in, one of the nurses comes out, and the following occurs:)

Nurse: “[Woman]?”

(She looks around the waiting room, and then into the hallway, calling her name a few times, then back into the office. Ten minutes later, after three other patients have gone back.)

Nurse: “[Woman]?”

(She looks around again in the waiting room and into the hallway, obviously getting frustrated, then back into the office. Ten more minutes pass, and more patients are escorted into the office. About this time, a very nicely dressed woman steps up to the nurse’s station asking how much longer of a wait she will have. The nurse behind the desk is looking at the list when another nurse comes out calling another patient’s name, and when they don’t answer, the nurse behind the desk points to the woman standing in front of her.)

Nurse: “[Woman]?”

Woman: *rudely* “No, my name is [Other Name], but my given name is [Woman]. I just choose not to answer to it.”

(The nurses inwardly face-palmed, and the patients in the waiting room burst out laughing.)

Their Common Sense Expires Months Ago

, , , | Right | June 7, 2017

(My office focuses on wholesale business. We deal with stores across the US that sell the products we manufacture. This phone call is from a small business that sells a few of our products. My coworker takes the call.)

Store: “I need to update my credit card information.”

Coworker: “Ok, let me pull up your information.” *pulls up info* “I see we have a card on file that ends in [numbers].”

Store: “No, no, no, that’s the old card. I need to give you the new number. I can’t believe you didn’t call and tell me my card was out of date!”

Coworker: “I’m terribly sorry no one contacted you, but I can go ahead and get the new card on file now.”

Store: *gives updated credit card information*

Coworker: “Okay, I’ve got that on file now, but I don’t see a pending order.”

Store: “I don’t have a pending order because you didn’t have my updated credit card information.”

Coworker: “Oh, I see. Can I place the order for you now, since we’ve got the new card on file?”

Store: “NO, I DON’T WANT TO PLACE AN ORDER. I JUST WANTED TO UPDATE MY CREDIT CARD!”

Coworker: “Ok, well, we’ve got it now, so it will charge when you place your next order.”

Store: “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me it was expired.”

Coworker: “If you don’t have a pending order that’s held up by an expired card, then we don’t know that the card is expired.”

Store: “So you have to wait until the order is held up?”

Coworker: “Well, yes, because we have thousands of customers. We can’t monitor every single credit card to see when it’s about to expire.”

Store: “But you sent me an email saying it was out of date.”

Coworker: “….but I thought we hadn’t contacted you…”

Store: “It’s an old email from months ago. It says you can’t process my order until I update my credit card.”

Coworker: “Well, you must have updated it back then, because you don’t have any pending orders, nor any cancelled or on-hold orders.”

Store: “Then why did you send me this email?”

Coworker: “You said it was from months ago? You may have had a pending order months ago, but I can see that all of your placed orders have been processed. We aren’t currently holding anything for you.”

Store: “This email IS from months ago. I updated my card months ago as well. I’m just now reading the email!”

Coworker: “Okay, well, the new card information you just gave me was different from what was on file. So, has your credit card information changed since the last time you updated it?”

Store: “YES!”

Coworker: “So do you need to place an order?”

Store: “NO! NO, I DON’T!!!”

Coworker: “I’m not sure why you’re angry, then?”

Store: “YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME!” *click*

Me: “So she’s mad at us for not being mind readers?”

Coworker: “I guess…?”

Painting Over Your Mistakes

, , , , | Working | June 7, 2017

(One summer I work at my college as a painter, painting two of the dorms. We tend to get paint on the bottoms of our shoes and accidentally get some paint on the carpets outside suites several times, which we then clean up. Towards the end of the summer, my coworker is just annoyed that it keeps happening.)

Coworker: “I have an idea. Let’s paint the carpets! That way we won’t have to worry about getting paint on it!”

The Baggage Of Benjamin Button

, , , | Working | June 7, 2017

(My husband and I run into a fabric store to pick up replacement buttons. I grab a card with four buttons and head for the checkout. Along the way he grabs a small, sample size chocolate bar.)

Cashier: “Hi! How are you?”

Me: “Great thanks. You?”

Cashier: “Can’t complain. Just those two?” *grabs for a bag*

Me: “Yes. I don’t need a bag.”

(Until this point, all has seemed normal. Now she stops moving, turns towards me, and stares.)

Cashier: “NO BAG?”

Me: “No. I can just toss the buttons in my pocket and he’s going to eat the chocolate.”

Cashier: “So no bag. At all?”

Me: “No, it’s fine.”

(The cashier now slowly scans the buttons and chocolate. She slides them across the counter towards me, giving me a very confused look.)

Cashier: “That’s $2.77. And no bag.”

Me: “Thanks.” *hands her $3*

(My husband grabs the chocolate and starts eating. I slide the buttons in my pocket. Cashier counts change back to me and hands me the receipt. She is still staring at me like I’ve offended the button gods. As we are walking out the door, I hear her talking to the next customer.)

Cashier: “They bought buttons and she wouldn’t take a bag!”

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