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They Sound As Qualified As The Person Who Cuts Government Checks

, , , , , | Right | December 21, 2021

I work at a call center for a local government. I am taking down an application for services. One of the questions asks if your income is more than a certain amount. I already asked the question and the customer agrees she makes more than the standard amount.

Me: “Okay, so your application has been submitted, and if you qualify for expedited services, you will receive a call within three days.”

Customer: “What makes me eligible for expedited services?”

Me: “Well, the first thing they look at is income less than $150.”

Customer: “Oh! I make that, so I qualify!”

Me: “Well, unfortunately, no. You make above that.”

Customer: “What? No! You’re wrong.”

Me: “You make $800 a month, which is higher than the qualifying amount of $150.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t know the exact amount. I’ll get you the exact amount if you need it.”

Me: “My system shows about $800. Does it go below that?”

Customer: “Well, between $750 and $800.”

Me: “Again, that’s more than $150.”

Customer: “No, it’s not. You’re incorrect.”

This goes on for a bit with her telling me that $150 times twelve is about $12,000 and that’s more than $800 a month and me trying to explain that we are looking at the monthly amount of each.

Me: “You know what? I may be wrong, and you might be right. $800 is probably less than $150. So, after your application is reviewed, they will determine that for you.”

Customer: *Hesitantly* “Okay.” *Hangs up*

Are You Sure You Live Where You Think You Live?

, , , , , , | Working | December 20, 2021

My house is located right on the edge of [Town #1]; the house across the street is in [Town #2]. I placed an order with a large home improvement company, putting my address in as [Town #1] for the delivery. The day it was due to be delivered, I got an email saying there was an issue. I called customer service. 

Me: “Hi, I was told there’s an issue with my delivery?”

Customer Service: “Yes, we have [my address using Town #1] but our delivery service is telling us it’s [my address using Town #2]. Can you verify so we can change the address?”

Me: “[My address with Town #1] is correct.”

Customer Service: “Okay, so, I have [my address with Town #2]—”

Me: “No, not [Town #2], [Town #1].”

Customer Service: “Ma’am, our delivery service does not recognize your address with [Town #1]. It has to be [Town #2].”

Me: “It’s not. I run into this problem all the time, but my legal address is in [Town #1]. [Town #2] is across the street, so I understand the confusion, but I assure you, it’s [Town #1].”

Customer Service: “Could you do me a favor, miss? Please read me your address as it appears on your driver’s license or utility bill.”

Me: “Okay. It’s [my address in Town #1].”

Customer Service: *Quiet sigh* “Okay, miss. Let me put you on hold.”

Ten minutes pass.

Customer Service: “Thank you for holding. Unfortunately, the address you insist on using is not valid, so we have cancelled your order. You should get your money back in seven to fourteen business days.”

Me: “What?! Are you serious?”

Customer Service: “Yes, ma’am. If you cannot provide a valid shipping address, we cannot ship to you. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Me: “No. We’re done here.”

I hung up, upset. I debated leaving a negative review online but decided it wasn’t worth my energy. Instead, I placed an order with their competitor, using my address in [Town #1], and I had it waiting on my doorstep in a few days. I also did an Internet search using my address in [Town #2], and guess what I found? It doesn’t exist!

Do They Not WANT Customers?

, , , , , | Working | December 17, 2021

My family and I are moving to another state soon, and we want to get one more takeout meal from a local restaurant that’s been special to us for a long time. My wife and I went there for our first date in 1998, for instance.

I get there at 6:15 pm on Saturday and find the parking lot empty. Thinking, “Uh-oh,” I get out of my car and walk over to find a hand-lettered sign in the window saying, “We closed at 6:00 pm.” Darn. I go looking for a sign with their regular business hours, figuring I can come back the next day… and I can’t find one.

Great. Well, no hope for it. I tap on the window, knowing they’re going to think I can’t read the sign but with no other way to ask when they’ll be open on Sunday. I don’t have a cell phone, so I can’t just call them from the parking lot. I finally get the attention of someone inside, but sure enough, they just point at the sign. I nod — yes, I saw — and then try to hand-signal them that I want to ask about tomorrow’s hours. A second person sees me, points at the sign, and ignores my nods and gesticulations.

Finally, a third person spots me and does the same but comes over when I keep gesturing.

Employee: “READ THE SIGN!”

Me: “Yes, I read the sign. I understand you’re closed. But when are you open tomorrow?”

Employee: “Eight.”

Me: “Eight am? Eight pm? Is that opening or closing?”

Employee: “Eight pm.” *Walks off*

I gave up, figuring it was the best I’d get. I figured I’d come back the next day and get lunch for the fam. I ended up forgetting until mid-afternoon and going there for dinner instead. It was just as well I didn’t try for lunch, because the handwritten sign in the window then said, “We open at 1:00 pm.”

Not to nitpick, but how hard is it to: A) post your hours of operation more than a few hours in advance, and B) spend ten more seconds to clarify things for someone who’s been coming to your place for twenty-plus years?

Messing With The Ice Cream Truck Was The Final Straw

, , , , , | Friendly | December 10, 2021

I lived across the street from a family who were… trashy. I mean trashy in a rather literal sense. The parents decided that their “street corner medications” were more important than, say, paying the garbage bill. The trash and filth (including dirty baby diapers) accumulated in their home and side yard and backyard until the garbage bags were taller than the father, who was six-foot-something). 

Complaints about the smell, mice, and cockroaches that infested the neighborhood were prolific but had no impact. It wasn’t until child services were called that they were forced to clean up, screaming swear words at the tops of their lungs as fermented diapers exploded at the slightest touch and weather-worn garbage bags disintegrated, spewing their foul contents in all directions.

Now that you’ve had a peek at the parents, I submit for your disapproval the oldest of five children: the eight-year-old. 

Like most neighborhoods, ice cream trucks tinkled and blared their time-worn jingles as they trundled through the neighborhoods during the summer. Well, the children wanted their popsicles every time the truck came through. Their parents had no money left over to give them, so they would flag down the truck and order their ice cream and then be unable to pay.

The driver wised up after the first time and asked for the money at the time of ordering. When the kids had no money, no ice cream would be produced.


Truck Driver: “There’s no need for that kind of language. You can have the popsicles when you have the money.”


Truck Driver: “No money, no popsicles.”

The child screamed swear words, punched the truck, and seized rocks from their front yard and started throwing them at the truck. The rest of the children followed suit.

Unfortunately, the rest of the neighborhood kids and parents were subjected to this horrific example of inhumanity, and the parents of the good kids were forced to hustle their children out of the way of flying projectiles.

I could hear the distinct CRACK of the windshield taking a rock just the right size to spiderweb it.

Then, the child grabbed a large rock and tried to climb through the open portal to get inside the truck, screaming about stabbing a motherf***** if he didn’t motherf****** get his motherf****** popsicles.

Recall that this was an eight-year-old boy doing this.

The poor truck driver had to catch the little devil by the throat and forcefully shove him backward out of the truck while he was too stunned by the loss of air. The truck then gunned off down the street faster than the speed limit. 

The whole pack of kids chased the truck, screaming, “STOP! STOP NOW!”

The police got involved, and the father had to be forcefully subdued and arrested for attacking the cops. Apparently, meth was found in the home, and the house stood empty for months afterward while the place was made livable again.

It took five years for the ice cream truck to resume making its rounds along our street again

You Can’t Check In When Mentally Checked Out

, , , , , , | Romantic | December 9, 2021

My boyfriend and I are flying out to a wedding. Due to circumstances, we are on separate bookings though we are on the same flight. We have booked through a popular travel site for a flight on [Airline #1] that is a codeshare with [Airline #2].

This causes some trouble when it comes time to check in the day before. The code that the travel site has given is not working on [Airline #1]’s site, which says to check in on [Airline #2], which is also not accepting it. A call to [Airline #2] says they are quite busy and offers to do a virtual hold with a call back in three hours.

I decide to try calling [Airline #1] and get through within ten minutes. They immediately understand the code problem, give me an appropriate code for [Airline #2], and stay with me to make sure I can use it on [Airline #2]’s website, which I can.

I then text the boyfriend to remind him to check in.

Me: “Did you get [Airline #2]’s confirmation number? And when checking in on [Airline #2]’s website, you may want to put in [FirstName MiddleName] for the first name.”

Boyfriend: “I’m having issues checking in. I called [Airline #2]. They’ll call me back in three hours.”

Me: “It’s probably that the confirmation number you have is a [Travel Site] number, not [Airline #2]. Call [Airline #1]. They are faster and can give you the [Airline #2] number.”

Boyfriend: “I tried to check in with [Airline #1]. It says please verify your itinerary and check in with [Airline #2]. WTF?!”

I call him directly.

Me: “Is there a reason why you aren’t listening? Call [Airline #1].”

Boyfriend: “But [Airline #1] is telling me to check in with [Airline #2].”

Me: “Yes, I know. It’s a codeshare. Call [Airline #1].”

Boyfriend: “But [Airline #2] is going to call me back in three hours.”

Me: “I know. It was the same with me. Call [Airline #1].”

Boyfriend: “But—”

Me: “CALL [AIRLINE #1]. We bought tickets with one company for an airline that is codesharing with another airline. They should be talking to each other, but for whatever reason, they aren’t. CALL [AIRLINE #1]. You’ll get through in a few minutes, they’ll give you [Airline 2]’s confirmation code, and they’ll even stay on the line with you to make sure it’s working. You may want to use [FirstName MiddleName] for the first name when entering your information.”

He finally managed to get checked in.