(One of many things we do is help with the management of refuse and recycling facilities for local residents. The county is a popular retirement destination and most of our callers are elderly. Unfortunately, this means we get a high volume of calls where we just can’t help people because no matter how hard we try, we cannot coax their requests out of them.)

Me: “Bore da, good morning, [Local Government].”

Elderly Caller: “BINS!”

Me: “You’ve got a query about your refuse or recycling?”

Elderly Caller: “BINS!”

Me: “Have you missed a collection? Would you like me to send some staff over to come and help empty your bins?”

Elderly Caller: “BINS!”

Me: “Was it that you needed a replacement bin? Did one of your bins get broken?”

Elderly Caller: “NUHHH. BINS. MY BINS!”

Me: “I’d like to know how I can help you with your bins, sir. Do you know your address? Or is there somebody in the room who can help you with your call? I really want to help you if I can.”

Elderly Caller: “BIIIIIINNNSSSSS! BINS! MY BINS! BIII-I-I-I-I-NNNNSSSSS!”

(I heard the phone clatter to the table or floor and the line went dead shortly thereafter. I have set up regular direct debits to dementia charities since I started working here. We get several calls like that every day and I always wish I could do more! I especially wish we had 999-style call location technology so we could trace calls and call people back who’ve hung up on us by mistake. Maybe one day…)

This story is part of our Recycling roundup!

Read the next Recycling roundup story!

Read the Recycling roundup!

My high school job is shelving books in a library. It is a great job, good pay, wonderful coworkers, and flexible hours. They also have a relaxed dress code, which is basically the same as the local school system’s. That’s actually how they described it to newcomers: anything they can wear to school, they can wear to work at the library.

At another branch, the students started regularly wearing torn jeans to work. The main office saw this and thought it looked trashy, so they made a rule: no more jeans. Every other kind of pants were fine, even sweatpants, but no jeans.

So of course, now I can wear a pair of torn khakis with holes in the knees, according to the rules, but a nice, new pair of intact jeans are not allowed. I don’t think banning jeans in itself is a stupid and unreasonable move, but if they had a problem with the condition of them, it makes more sense to ban any pants in bad condition.

(I’d made an appointment to meet with an investment specialist at my local bank.)

Me: “Hi, I’m here to meet with Mr. [Specialist]. Is he in?”

Employee: “Well, you’ve got me, instead!” *laughs* “Do you mind if I drink my juice?”

Me: “No, go right ahead.”

Employee: “Thanks! I’m on a juice cleanse to lose weight. I miss eating.”

Me: “I bet…”

Employee: “Fruit and veggies are so expensive! Can you believe how much apples are? They used to be $3 a pound; now they’re $5 a pound! That adds up, you know?”

Me: “Sure.”

Employee: “Anyway, let’s talk about your finances.”

Me: “Okay!”

I’m just thinking, “Finally…”

Employee: *suddenly stares at her arm* “Is that a new mole? Uh-oh!” *stares a bit longer* “Anyway, your finances. Sign here, please, and I’ll just staple the papers— OH, NO!”

Me: “What?”

Employee: “Argh! My coworkers think that it’s funny to hide my stapler. I brought it from another branch because it’s a great stapler. Technically, I guess it was stealing, but I didn’t really take it; I just moved it, see? But now I can’t find it and I have to use this crappy stapler.”

Me: “That’s too bad…”

Employee: “People tell me that I’m way too chirpy and friendly to work at a bank, but I just love people! Anyway, that’s all I need from you. Have a great day! Byeeee!”

(I was so glad to get out of there. I just hope that she was actually a bank employee and not some weirdo who wandered in off the street.)

This story is part of our Bad Bankers roundup!

Read the next Bad Bankers roundup story!

Read the Bad Bankers roundup!

I have an office in a portakabin of four rooms across the car park from the main building. Only two rooms are occupied.

One day I manage to knock over a glass of water and it soaks a load of papers on my desk and goes all down my trousers, too. I lock the office door, make sure the blinds are closed, and take my trousers off to put them on the heater to dry while I tidy up the desk.

After a few minutes the office door opens and a colleague walks in. She has come to collect some papers and let herself in with the master key. She is lovely but not overly bright.

She sits for a few minutes talking, and then starts to leave. As she is going out the door she asks if I am wearing any underwear. I say of course.

She says that she isn’t sure as it just look like I am only wearing a shirt.

She must have thought that this was normal for me in my office. But it hadn’t crossed her mind to leave when she first saw me, or didn’t she notice till she was leaving?

(I am checking out an older lady from my church. She has never struck me as superstitious at all.)

Me: “Okay, that comes to, um, $6.66.”

(Her eyes get wide and she grabs something off the rack at random.)

Customer: “And this keychain!”

Me: “Okay, that’s $8.63.”

Customer: “Much better. Sorry, but I’m going for surgery Monday. I’m not going to risk it.”

(I told my coworker, her nephew, and he cracked up and bought her a rabbit’s foot, just in case.)

This story is featured in our Religious Customers roundup!

Click here to read the next story.

Click here to return to the roundup!