Has (Other) Room For Improvement

, , , , , , | Learning | November 27, 2017

(When I was growing up, a lot of teachers in my elementary school thought I had a learning disability. They based this on the fact that I couldn’t get into classroom routines and that I wouldn’t do math work. In actuality, I just didn’t understand the transitioning between subjects while still remaining in the same room, so I chose to continue doing subjects I liked, instead. They fought with my parents a lot over this, but my parents were adamant I had the necessary skills because I would read a book every night and could show them the math skills at home. They suggested that I just needed more time than the other kids. Apparently, the school decided to take matters into their own hands one day. Keep in mind, this was quite a long time ago, so inclusivity in classrooms wasn’t what it was today. There was a big show if you were taken from the class to work with the special needs educators. This happens after morning routine in grade three, when they come to collect the students that will be in the “special education room.” I am waiting for the dinosaur work we are going to do, when…)

Teacher: “[My Name], you’re going with these workers, too.”

Me: *confused* “What? Why?”

Teacher: “Because they will help you, [My Name].”

Me: “B-but I wanted to play with the dinosaurs.”

Teacher: “I am not going to argue with you! Go with them now!”

(Scared because she raised her voice, I get up and follow, embarrassed that everyone is watching me. I head with the group until we get to a small room. They keep other students out of this area, so I don’t understand why I am there. I am even more confused when they sit everyone around the table, and have us just identify numbers on the number line to start. I can do it easily and can’t understand why I’m not learning the multiplication work from my classroom. Then, they read out loud from a simple picture book, and I can’t understand why I can’t go back to my class and listen to the chapter book the teacher has been reading and that I really enjoy. I keep asking if I can read a book by myself, but they won’t let me. I am hoping I will go back to class eventually, but they keep me in there the whole day. I even have to eat lunch there. After school, before I meet my mom, I go back to my teacher.)

Me: “Ms. [Teacher], can I come back to class tomorrow? I don’t want to miss [Chapter Book].”

Teacher: “Oh, I’m sorry, [My Name]; you have to go back tomorrow.”

Me: *tearing up* “But I want to finish the book.”

Teacher: “We finished it today, so I can give it to your new teachers to read for you tomorrow.”

(This is when I start bawling, so my teacher tries to comfort me while she walks me to my mom. She then explains to my mom that I am upset because I missed the last chapter of a book.)

Mom: “I don’t understand. How did she miss it? Did she go to the bathroom?”

Me: *through tears* “I missed it because they took me to the other room, Mommy.”

Mom: “What other room?”

Teacher: “The special education classroom. It was [My Name]’s first time there, so she might need some adjusting, but I’m sure after a week or so, she’ll get use to the routine.”

(At this my mom’s eyes grow wide and she turns a shade of red I have never seen before.)

Mom: “My daughter was where?

(Apparently, somebody decided it would just be easiest if I went to the special education room so I wouldn’t be a bother. To make matters even easier, they were going to give me the exact same work and not adjust the workload to my needs. My mom was very angry that they did this behind her back. She yelled at the principal until it was sorted out and I was put back in my original class. I would like to note that I didn’t mind being with the other students; I actually enjoyed being with them. I was upset that they made a big show of taking me to the room so I didn’t feel included with the rest of the school. I was upset that the work wasn’t at my level, and that it wasn’t explained to me why I was there. Now that I’m older, it upsets me that the kids in that room were referred to as a “bother.” It also upsets me to realize that I could communicate my frustrations and something was done because of that, but there were students in there who couldn’t. As a result, I went on to become a teacher and receive my Masters of Education. With my own classroom, inclusivity is an important aspect, and I am proud of how far education has come today compared to when I was a scared grade three.)

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Trying To Get A Cheap Room Is A Team Effort

, , , , , , | Right | November 27, 2017

(A man calls the hotel. He is obviously inebriated.)

Caller: “Yeah, what is the cheapest room you guys have?”

Me: “That would be our standard room with one bed, and that is currently going for $106 per night.”

Caller: “What?! Why the h*** is it so expensive?! I just had a room with you guys and I only paid $62, and that was for a larger room for two nights? What the h***?”

Me: “$62? That doesn’t sound like anything we offer here, and we haven’t changed our prices in nearly three years. When did you stay last?”

(He gives me the date and his full name. I pull up the reservations and verify the price.)

Me: “So, you stayed here on [dates] in a room with two queen-sized beds, for four people; is that correct?”

Caller: “Yes, that’s me.”

Me: “And you paid cash and debit?”

Caller: “Yes. No, I only paid cash, no debit, and it was $62 all together.”

Me: “Well, let’s see, your address is [address]?”

Caller: “Yeah! That’s me! It was $62 for the two nights, right?”

Me: “Actually, sir, it says here you paid $109 plus tax, and you paid a combination of cash and debit for a total of just under $250.”

Caller: “Okay, yeah, but you guys gave me a discount because there were teams there and they were making noise.”

Me: “I’m looking at your bill, sir, and there was no discount applied anywhere. Even if there were, I still couldn’t give you a room at that price. The discount wouldn’t apply.”

Caller: “Well, are there any teams coming in this week? If there’s a team I can get it for $62, right?”

Me: “Sir, we don’t offer discounts just because we have teams staying here; that’s not how we do business.”

Caller: “Well, what the f***?! You guys don’t believe in courtesy and comfort? How the h*** can people sleep when there are teams there, playing in the halls and making noise? I can’t sleep when you have teams in, so I should get a discount. That’s f***ed up!”

Me: “First of all, if we had people playing in the halls and making noise we would kick them out; we would not allow them to disrupt our guests and then just offer a discount for the inconvenience of not being able to sleep. That would be ridiculous. Second, we’ve never, in seven years that I’ve worked here, had a hockey team behave in that way. In fact, we pride ourselves in the fact that we work so closely with these teams, and they are nothing but kind and courteous. Third, if you know, as you claim, that you can’t get any sleep here when we have teams, why would you specifically ask for a room on a night when we have a team in? That makes no sense. In any event, the room is $106 plus tax per night, breakfast included. If you want a room, I will happily rent to you at this price, but I have to ask that you sober up a little before you come to check in; we have many guests in tonight and I wouldn’t want to disturb anybody.”

Caller: “You’re f****** crazy, b****! This is a s*** town for losers to live in. I can get a suite in [Big City four hours away] for $30, tax included!”

Me: “Really? Because I was there a couple months ago, and the cheapest rooms were the dingy road-side motels that were going for $89.”

Caller: “Okay, yeah, I lied. Just give me a f****** room; it’s my girlfriend’s birthday.”

Me: “Sir, based on your behavior during this call, I will not be renting to you this evening. I suggest you try the truck stop motel across the bridge; they are the only other place in the area that charges less than us, and they have a bar and restaurant on site with security. You might be more comfortable there. Have a good night.”

(I hang up, message my boss to tell her about it and she tells me I did the right thing. An hour later, a well-dressed woman in an expensive luxury car pulls up. As I’m getting her information, I realize that the address is really familiar.)

Me: “Um, I’m sorry, but are you in any way related to [Caller]?”

Customer: “Yes! He’s my boyfriend. I think he spoke to you earlier, correct?”

Me: “Um, yes, he did, and honestly, after that, my boss and I are not comfortable renting to him.”

Customer: “You see, this is how it is. My boyfriend is full of s***. Last time we were here, I paid for the room myself on my debit and covered the rest in cash. We were here with another couple, and at the end I split the final bill between the four of us, and he paid me back his share, which was $62. He got it in his drunken little head that the room only cost $62 for the two nights. When he finally got off the phone, I told him he was an idiot; that’s why he’s sitting in the car waiting for me instead of standing here beside me.”

Me: “Oh… well, okay, then. I guess I can rent to you, but I do need a cash deposit, and I need your word that there won’t be any problems tonight. If there are, my boss will have my head tomorrow.”

Customer: “I promise that there will be no issues. We have three kids, and it’s impossible to get any time alone for whoopee, you know? This is like a treat for us. I’ll keep him busy for you; no worries there, hun.” *winks*

(I ended up renting them the room for two nights, and there were no issues, but the man refused to make eye contact with me for the duration of their stay.)

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Little Sister, Big Problem

, , , , | Related | November 27, 2017

(My sister is born a month before my second birthday. My parents have done everything to prepare me for having a sister, and I even seem happy about having a sibling. That all changes drastically when my parents come back home with my sister, and I am immediately unhappy.)

Mom: “[My Name], this is your sister. Do you want to meet her?”

(I walk up to my sister, pouting and not liking the attention she is getting.)

Dad: “Do you like her, [My Name]?”

Me: “Yeah. Back to hospital?”

Mom: *laughing* “No, [My Name], she’s staying.”

(My sister is in her carrier, so I pick it up and take it over to our family friends. They are the ones who looked after me while my parents were in the hospital, and they are expecting a child of their own.)

Me: *points to family friend* “You take baby.”

Friend: “Oh, that’s okay, [My Name]; I already have a baby of my own.” *rubs belly*

Me: “That’s okay; you take baby home!”

(Obviously, my sister stayed with us and, after 26 years of her being my best friend, I am glad they didn’t take her back to the hospital.)

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Unfiltered Story #100620

, | Unfiltered | November 26, 2017

I was at home, getting ready for the day. At this point our fridge had broken down, so we had a repairman in fixing it, and my step-father was doing some cleaning on the lower floor. I was going down the stairs but halfway down remembered I needed to grab something, so I turned around. Instantly I felt a pain jolt through my leg, and realising what had just happened I slowly lowered myself to sit on the step. Looking I realised I had badly dislocated my knee, to the point it was actually on the side of my leg.

At that point, a bit of shock had kicked in, and in a mild fit of hysteria and realising how silly the cause of my injury was, I broke down laughing, while calling for my stepfather to come help. At first he was confused due to my speaking between massive fits of laughter, but he came upstairs and looked at the injury, called for an ambulance to come help and let my work know I wouldn’t be making it in that day, and then came to make sure I was fairing alright.

At this point my vision had gone to the point almost everything had looked white, and I couldn’t see my door that was about 3 feet away. My stepfather asked how I managed to injure myself, and when I explained “I turned around the stairs”, he started laughing as well about how “Only I could dislocate my knee turning around.”

The repairman heard all the commotion and tried to figure out why we were laughing our heads off, and had to take a moment when we explained the situation.

The best part? I found out a few days later once it had healed up that a coworker had a similar injury (though not as bad) at work around the exact same time.

Don’t Discount The Power Of Charity, Part 2

, , , , , , | Right | November 24, 2017

Me: “Would you like to add a donation to [Charity] on to your purchase today?”

Customer: “Sure, why the heck not?”

Me: “How much would you like to donate today?”

Customer: “Let’s do five dollars.”

Me: “Oh, that’s wonderful! On behalf of [Retailer] and [Charity], I would like to thank you for your generous contribution today, sir!”

Customer: “What the h*** was that?”

Me: “I don’t follow, sir.”

Customer: “Can the sarcasm, buddy. I know five dollars isn’t much, but you didn’t have to make a scene over it!”

Me: *cluing in* “Oh, no, sir, that’s not what I was trying to do. No lie, I am genuinely grateful for your contribution. I may have overdone it a little because your donation is technically the biggest I’ve seen.”

Customer: *visibly calmer* “Oh… How much do other shoppers usually donate?”

Me: “They usually don’t donate at all, or at most one dollar with a lot of reluctance.”

Customer: “Is that so? All right, put me down for five more dollars.”

Me: “Yes, sir!”



Don’t Discount The Power Of Charity

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