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Oh, You Poor, Naïve Woman

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: GayADHDLurker | January 26, 2022

I work for a hotel in pre-arrival/prior reservations. I’m not at the hotel itself; I’m in a call center a few miles away.

Caller: “I’m concerned about credit card fraud; I just got an email about a stay at your hotel, but I don’t have anything planned.”

For security purposes, I can’t just reveal details about the order, but I ask her to confirm the details she has. Her husband has a relatively common name, so she thinks maybe it is just that someone selected the wrong profile, but she says they have had a credit card fraud incident in the past.

Me: “Can you please confirm the email, phone, and billing address in the email?”

She does, and she also tells me the address of the person who stole their card before. All the information is her husband’s work address except for the email, which is hers. The last four digits of the card are not any that she knows offhand, but she does say she doesn’t know her husband’s work cards.

The more we talk, the more it looks like her husband booked everything under his work information except for the email, and then, when he checked in with a second adult and upgraded the room to a king suite, the system pulled her email because they’d stayed there together in the past.

My support team advises me to just tell her it isn’t any of the last four digits she gave us and it’s a case of the wrong profile. I do so.

Caller: “Okay, thanks for checking. My husband is out of town on business until the nineteenth, so I know it’s not him.”

The room was set to be checked out on the nineteenth. I really wanted to tell her, “Call your husband to make sure he doesn’t see suspicious activity on his company cards and let him know why you’re asking. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Out Of The Frying Pan And Into The Fire

, , , , , , , | Related | January 13, 2022

This took place in the mid-1990s when I was fifteen years old. It was around 11:00 at night when I heard someone tap on my window. I looked out to see two of my best buddies waving at me and gesturing for me to come out. I opened my window.

Me: *Whispering* “Dude! What the h*** are you doing here? You’re gonna get me in trouble!”

Friend: “Dog, you gotta come with us! There’s this smashing party going on at [Boy]’s place! His dad is out for the weekend and he’s got the place to himself! Girls all over the place! You gotta check it out!”

I’d never snuck out of the house before.

Me: “Uhhh… I dunno about that.”

Friend: “[Crush] is there.”

Me: “You serious?”

Friend: “Dead serious. Come on, I told them we were gonna come get you. You’re gonna let everyone down!”

That particular girl being there was all the reason I needed to risk my neck. I quietly got dressed and tiptoed out the back door since the screen in my bedroom window was too difficult to remove and replace.

After spending a good five hours or so frolicking around with everyone and acting like the bunch of high school morons we were, we decided around 4:00 am that we’d all better split and get back home before our luck ran out and someone came looking for us.

I managed to slip back in through the back door and was tiptoeing back to my room when I heard a toilet flush and my mom emerged from the bathroom with a groggy look on her face. And there I was, standing in the middle of the hallway, fully dressed and reeking of cigarettes and beer (neither of which my parents had).

Mom: “What are you doing?”

Me: “I heard a weird noise in the shed so I just went to check it out.”

Mom: “You got dressed up like that to—” *sniffing* “OH, H*** NO! [Dad], get out here now!”

My parents were having some serious marital issues at the time, to the point where they were sleeping in separate bedrooms.

Mom: *Banging on my dad’s door* “GET OUT HERE, [DAD]!”

No answer.

In a rage, my mom threw the door open and ripped the blanket off my dad’s bed to reveal an empty bed. Puzzled, my mom looked outside to see his car missing from the driveway, and then, she picked up the phone.

Mom: “Hello, is [Dad] there?” *Pause* “This is [Mom]; I am [Dad]’s wife. Did he have a graveyard shift tonight?” *Pause* “He hasn’t had one all this year?!” *Pause* “Really now?!” *Pause* “Thank you!” *Slamming the phone down* “If this is some kind of prank, somebody better say something now because I’m about to go homicidal! Get back in bed! Don’t think you’re off the hook!”

I got back in bed with an “I’m-so-dead” feeling of impending doom hovering over me.

Around six am, I woke up to hear:

Mom: “WHERE IN THE H*** HAVE YOU BEEN?!”

Dad: “I got called in for a graveyard shift; someone called in sick.”

Mom: “BULLS***! I CALLED YOUR WORK! YOU HAVEN’T HAD A GRAVEYARD SHIFT ALL YEAR!”

Cue a mayhem-filled screaming match where my dad finally fessed up about “the other girl” — who happened to be one of her good friends. The screaming match grew into a screaming marathon that continued almost until noon, and my dad ended up moving out about two weeks later.

As for me, my mom was so pissed that she never punished me for sneaking out of the house to smoke and drink, although, for a while, she started making me put my shoes and jacket in her bedroom at night. That lasted up until I was sixteen.

My dad still jokes with me to this day that I inadvertently got him busted doing essentially the same thing the same night.

Tell Me How To Say No To This

, , , , , , | Romantic | November 9, 2021

I used to have a male coworker who was a bit… off. One day, he came into work looking very worried.

Coworker: “I’ve got a serious problem. There’s this gorgeous young woman who takes the same morning bus that I do. We’ve gotten to talking, and she’s really nice.”

Me: “What’s the problem?”

Coworker: “I’m married.”

Me: “Dude, are you saying that she’s hit on you?”

Coworker: “Well, no.”

Me: “What do you talk about?”

Coworker: “The weather, stuff like that.”

Me: “That just sounds like polite small talk to me. Why are you so concerned?”

Coworker: “What if she does hit on me? I don’t think I’ll be strong enough to resist because she’s super hot.”

Me: “From what you’ve told me, it sounds like she’s just being friendly. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Coworker: “No, she wants me. I’m sure of it. Oh, God, my marriage will end!”

Me: *Losing my patience* “Here’s a crazy idea. If she does proposition you, say, ‘I’m flattered, but I’m happily married.’”

Coworker: “No, that’s no good. She’s going to come on to me and I won’t be able to say no.” *Sighs heavily* “The only thing I can do is start taking an earlier bus.”

Me: *Giving up* “Good for you, I guess.”

Liar Is As Liar Does

, , , , , | Working | October 6, 2021

I have been with this company for years and have a great track record, but to progress any further, I need to show some leadership and management ability. They offer me a promotion and a small team to manage. I accept and things start pretty well.

A week or so into the job, one of the guys pulls me to one side.

Employee: “Hey, listen. My wife has been called into surgery tomorrow. I need the day off to take her.”

Me: “Tomorrow? Wow, that’s short notice. Err, yes, of course. Take it off. I can sort something out here.”

Employee: “Great, thanks. She has been on the waiting list for ages and they had a spot.”

The next day is a rush. We already have a guy off sick and no cover. I end up getting there early and stay way after hours to cover. I’m just about finished, and I get back to my desk and slump in my chair.

One of the other managers spots me and comes over.

Manager: “You look beat.”

Me: “Yeah, one guy is off sick and the other had a family emergency.”

Manager: “Was it [Employee] with the emergency?”

Me: “Yeah, he needed some time off for his wife.”

Manager: “Surgery?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Manager: “Just to let you know, [Employee]’s wife has had multiple ‘surgeries,’ but he can never show any proof. A couple of times he’s been caught down the pub, instead.”

Me: “What? How has he gotten away with it?”

Manager: “[Owner] wants to give people the benefit of the doubt, especially when family is sick. Although, if I were you, I might give the sickness policy a read-over.”

He leaves. I take the policy home with me to read overnight and book [Employee] in for a back-to-work meeting the next day.

Me: “Hi, [Employee]. How are you? How is the wife?”

Employee: “Okay, thanks. I might need a couple more days off, you know, for follow-up appointments.”

Me: “Sure, sure. So, we have these meetings to make sure you are okay to return to work and clear payment for time off. On that note, could you please share with me any sort of doctor’s note for yesterday?”

Employee: “What? No, [policy] [section] says that we don’t have to when it comes to surgeries.”

Me: “Oh, didn’t you read the update a few months ago?! It was sent to everyone and put on notice boards. The policy was changed in that regard.”

Employee: “Well, I don’t have anything!”

Me: “You must have had a letter, text message, or something from the hospital.”

Employee: “No, they didn’t send me anything.”

Me: “Well, I’m sorry, but you can request one normally free of charge. If not, I will have to mark you as absent and you won’t get paid.”

Employee: “What?! No, I need that money. This is unfair. I will go to HR.”

Me: “As you wish, but I don’t make the policy.”

He made a complaint; it went nowhere. He made all sorts of threats but nothing came of it. What was interesting was what happened way later: they called his home phone and his wife answered, confused as she thought he was at work. After much panicked searching for him, she found him at his girlfriend’s place. That’s why he was so keen to get out of work so often. The panic over pay was so that his wife didn’t notice the missing days’ wages.

He quit before I found out what happened to him.

You Can’t Cheat Science!

, , , , , , , , , | Learning | August 24, 2021

When I was in grad school, one of my colleagues in my lab worked as a teaching assistant for a certain undergraduate class. Students in this class were notorious for cheating, and one of the ways they cheated was to collect their graded exams, change one of the answers, and submit it for a re-grade, claiming that that the teaching assistant had neglected to give them full credit for the answer.

My colleague was lamenting to some of us at lunch about how her student submitted a question for a re-grade, but she knew there was no way she had misgraded his answer to begin with.

Colleague: “I know he erased his answer and changed it. I mean, I graded fifty exams, so I don’t remember for sure, but there’s no way I wouldn’t have given that answer full credit. He has to be cheating!”

Me: “But you can’t prove it.”

Colleague: “No, and that’s what’s so frustrating.”

Me: “Can I see the paper?”

She showed me the paper. Right away, I noticed that there was a spot where the student’s pencil mark intersected with the teaching assistant’s red grading pen.

Colleague: “See? I can’t prove whether he wrote his answer before or after I graded the paper.”

Me: “We have microscopes.”

My colleague’s face lit up. She took the paper to one of our fancy lab microscopes, and even at ten times magnification, she could see the student’s pencil mark clearly ON TOP of her red pen. She took a picture using the microscope and submitted it to the professor, and the student eventually admitted to cheating. Science for the win.


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