What Can I Do Except Pay You?

, , , , , | Working | October 16, 2017

(As a side job while I’m in college, I referee for the local region of a national organization that is, in short, miserable to work for. We work tournaments that last from 7 am until 11 pm for two to three days in a row, and often times get few or no breaks, due to the shortage of referees. We’re only paid $18 a match and work 12 to 14 matches a day. We’re also not compensated for our food, travel, or lodging while at the tournament. When they ask me to work a tournament two-and-a-half hours away from my house, I’m glad to say no due to my affiliations playing and coaching with several of the major clubs that are traveling to play. The day before the tournament, though, the director calls me.)

Director: “Hey, [My Name], I know you said no to working this weekend, but we have a mass shortage of referees and I desperately need you to work. Can you please come?”

Me: “As I said before, there’s too much conflict of interest due to my affiliations with [Major Club #1] and [Major Club #2]. Everybody that plays and coaches there knows exactly who I am.”

Director: “Well, I trust you to be fair and I need you badly, so please come anyways. We can figure out a way for you to not work those clubs.”

Me: “It’s not just them; lots of the players that I’ve coached have since moved on to smaller clubs. I’m not comfortable reffing anyone that I’ve coached before. I don’t think there’s any way to avoid some conflict of interest this weekend.”

Director: “What’s it going to take to get you to come?”

Me: “$30 a match and full compensation for food, hotel, and gas.”

Director: “As I’ve said before, we cannot provide compensation to officials, only administrators, and the price you’re paid per match is non-negotiable.”

Me: “Well, then, see you at the next tournament. Thanks, anyway.”

Director: “But I really need you. What am I going to do now?”

Me: “I don’t know. Good bye.”

(I wonder what he wanted me to say when he asked me what it would take to get me to come.)

Our New Laptops Turn Water Into Wine

, , , , | Right | October 13, 2017

(I work at a major electronics retailer. On this particular day I am in the computer department when I approach a friendly, somewhat stereotypically redneck, southern man to see if he needs any help.)

Me: “Hi there! What brings you in today?”

Customer: “Well, I’m lookin’ at some o’ these laptop computers, and besides Sony or Haytch-P or Tuhshibuh, what other brands do you like?”

Me: “Well, we have a great deal on an Asus—” *I pronounce it “AY-soos”* “—and it’s really—”

Customer: *interrupting* “’AY-SOOS?!’ Ain’t that what the Mexicans call Jesus?”

Unfiltered Story #97605

, | Unfiltered | October 13, 2017

I’m putting back some pillows when approached by a customer.

Customer: “Can you tell me where the nearest cash register is?”

Me: *turns around and points in the direction of the cash register* “It’s right over there under the $10 rewards sign”

Customer: *irritable and sarcastic* ” Thank you, I can figure it out for myself.”

She then rolls her eyes and storms off, angry that I told her where the nearest cash register was after she asked me where she could find the nearest cash register.

Their Disruption Comes To A Messy Conclusion

, , , , | Learning | October 12, 2017

(My sophomore year physics teacher is very laid-back and has a great sense of humor. Today, however, the class clown has been very disruptive and is getting on his nerves.)

Teacher: “If [Clown] falls off a 50-foot cliff, when he hits the ground—”

Clown: *interrupts* “What if I bounce?”

Teacher: *flatly* “You don’t bounce. You splat.”

The Badly Behaving One? It Is Definitely Not You

, , , , , , , | Friendly | October 11, 2017

(I share a name with a few other girls in my grade.)

Girl #1: “Hey, [My Name]!”

Me and Girl #2: “Yeah?”

Girl #1: *staring me directly in the eyes* “It’s not you, you f****** attention w****. Why do you think it would ever be you? It’s always you! Just this once, it’s not you, and you can’t f****** deal with that, can you? You little b****, you just do whatever you want to do and grab whatever measly bits of attention you can scrounge up. Well, you know what? I don’t care. I truly don’t. You can go die in a hole, because it will never. Be. You.” *turns to [Girl #2]* “Anyway! [Classmate #1] is apparently dating [Classmate #2] now! Isn’t that fantastic?!”

Girl #2: “What the living f***, [Girl #1]?”

(I more or less walked away with my jaw on the ground. There’s gotta be a nicer way to tell a person you’re not talking to them.)

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