It Literally Doesn’t Pay To Bully

, , , , | Learning | April 5, 2018

My older brother set up his own software design company with a friend back in college while I was in high school. He and I were pretty close, so I ended up learning web design from him. The business took off pretty well, and when my older brother started handling more of management, he could afford to “hire” me as a remote intern, since he was operating states away and most of his contacts were nearer to me.

This was before all the “STEM for girls” took off, so computer work was not exactly a hot thing with the girls in my class. Coupled with the fact that I was a nerdy introvert, I was never one of the most popular girls in class, more so when they caught me doing “geek work.” Before I learned about storing things in the cloud, I had “missing” thumb-drives, CDs, and even laptop mice.

Once I graduated, I got into the same college as my older brother, so we ended up working together pretty closely with his friend. His friend took a liking to me, and we ended up dating, He really helped me boost my confidence and, with a fashion blogger sister, I also learned how to be more feminine. Summer rolled around and,. at the request of our college, my brother actually welcomed a group of computer science students to come in to our swanky new office and take a look at how the “unique and multi-disciplinary education at [College] can help you in your future career.” Lo and behold, my bullies were in the list of students, and my brother was only too happy to let me lead the introduction speech and presentation.

My boyfriend was the less active cofounder of the company, so he was the one who brought the group in. Considering he was smartly dressed and had a killer smile — I was a happy victim of them — he easily caught the hearts of most of the female students, especially my bullies. Then came me, practically grinning at the podium, as he introduced me as one of the first employees and his girlfriend. The bullies easily recognised my name, and even more so when I posted my high school photo as part of my introduction.

Unsurprisingly, they stood back and stayed quiet during my entire presentation. When the internship portal at the college opened, it just so happened that my bullies sent in their resumes very last-minute. And I just happened to be the unofficial but main in-charge of training new interns, especially if they have no technical knowledge but have the passion to learn. That means that I also had a hand in picking the lucky interns to the company that pays one of the highest stipends in the portal. (I checked.) My bullies had very basic technical knowledge and barely-passing grades in the courses the company was looking for.

Looks like a certain group of girls will have to settle for another company, if any are willing to take them in.

That Snow Way To Behave

, , , , , , , | Friendly | March 29, 2018

When enough snow accumulates on the ground, there’s an unspoken rule for parking: don’t steal a shoveled space. Someone else did the hard work, and even went to the trouble of digging out a lawn chair, cone, or trash barrel to tell the world it’s saved. While some people are kind about giving up their spaces, this is only acceptable if you ask first.

After one particular snow storm when I was 16, my parents, my uncle, and I got out and shoveled. After spending roughly two hours digging out the cars and clearing the sidewalk and walkway, my uncle — who lived with us — and my mother were free to head to work. While my mother’s car was parked on a paved portion of our property, my uncle’s was parked on the street, because we only had two parking spaces and my dad had his own car. So, to protect the spot, I dug out our trash barrels and placed one into the spot as soon as my uncle pulled out.

With school cancelled and my dad retired, he and I went back inside to rest up before we had to go back out and tackle more snow. We only rested about an hour, but the snow was coming down pretty hard that day. When we got outside to check for ice, I saw our barrel perched atop a mountain of snow in our front yard. Already having a sneaking suspicion, I circled around the pile to confirm it: someone tossed our barrel out of the way and swiped the spot.

I know plenty of people who would slash tires, smash windshields, and find other ways to vandalize the car, and a few others who would be waiting around the car with a few friends. I took a more civilized approach. After tossing the barrel into my backyard, I began deconstructing the mountain in my front yard and used it to bury the spot again, car and all. I didn’t stop until the snow was as high as it was when the four of us found it that morning.

If this person wanted this spot so badly, then they could do the work for it.

There’s No Business Like None Of Your Business

, , , , , | Right | March 29, 2018

(I work as a barista for a coffee chain, and like many others, we always ask customers for their names so that we can call out their orders. On this day, there are three of us working, and we all both make coffee AND man the registers. A guy in his mid-thirties wearing a suit walks in, yapping away on his phone. He cuts straight to the front of the line, ignoring the ten or so customers waiting patiently.)

Customer: *on phone* “Yeah, hold on.” *to me* “I’ll have—”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but there is a line. Please wait your turn.”

(He shoots me a dirty look, but goes to the back of the line, still on his phone. I continue taking orders as normal, and soon, [Customer] is back at the front of the line. Lo and behold, he’s still on his phone, and is looking down on me like I’m a piece of dirt. He can’t be more than 5’5”, though, and I’m almost 5’7”.)

Customer: *snootily* “Yeah, I want an iced latte. Make it quick. I have somewhere I need to be.”

(I have a reputation for being extremely sassy and sarcastic, so I manage to keep my calm and speak increasingly politely throughout the whole conversation.)

Me: “All right, sir. What size would you like that?”

Customer: *sighs, as if I should know this already* “TALL! And hurry up!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but is that for here or to go?”

Customer: *is silent*

Me: *waits* “Sir?”

Customer: *irate for no reason* “TO GO! GOD!”

Me: “A tall iced latte to go. That’ll be $2.95, sir. May I have a name for the order?”

Customer: *rifles through wallet, continues talking on phone*

Me: *assuming he didn’t hear me* “Sir? I need a name for your order.”

Customer: *sighs EXTREMELY loudly, rolls eyes and ignores me*

Me: *losing patience, because the line is growing, but still keeping a calm face* “Sir! I need a name for this order.”

Customer: *suddenly exploding* “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, A**HOLE!”

(I plaster on a fake smile as he slaps a five-dollar bill down on the counter.)

Me: *handing him his change, in an overly sugary voice* “Here’s your change, sir. If you’ll just wait, your coffee should be ready in a couple of minutes.”

Customer: *huffs, goes and stands in a corner*

(I whip up his drink myself, since I don’t want my coworkers to have to deal with this guy. I notice he’s FINALLY finished his phone call, so I yell out his drink:)


(The whole store went quiet. The people in line burst out laughing and the customer went red. He stormed up to the counter, grabbed his drink, and flounced out of the store. I’ve never seen him since.)

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Some People Don’t Come To Work To Work

, , , , , , | Working | March 23, 2018

I have four managers in my store. One manager, [Manager #1], is really lazy and assigns herself the job of operations. Operations’ main job is to assign breaks and keep associates busy, but she somehow makes that into an eight-hour job. My other managers — with whom I’m friends, since I’ve been working there for a while — dislike her. They decide to enact a little revenge.

One of the managers I’m friends with, [Manager #2], buys some candy and goes into the back room for some simple sorting that shouldn’t take any longer than five minutes. I’m already back there sorting, as well, and [Manager #2] and I start talking and stop doing work. Another manager, [Manager #3], comes in later and joins us. It is a slow day, so we aren’t too worried.

[Manager #4] has been assigned to a different location for the day, which leaves [Manager #1] to actually work. She gets all huffy, since she has to manage all of three associates on a slow, rainy day, but the candy is great! When we come out of the back room, a customer comes up and complains about [Manager #1], and we gladly give her the customer service number.

It Can Be Fun To Close A Window

, , , , | Working | March 16, 2018

(I work at the front desk of an assisted living home. One of my main jobs is to answer the phone. I live for callers like these.)

Me: “[Business], [My Name]. How may I help you today?”

Caller: “This is Windows Technical Support, ma’am. I am showing a virus on your computer.”

Me: “Oh, really?”

Caller: “Yes, ma’am. I’m going to need some information from you so that I can remove it.”

Me: “Oh, I don’t think so.”

Caller: “Ma’am, this is a very serious matter. I need your cooperation.”

Me: “No, you really don’t.”

Caller: “Ma’am, please. I am from Windows—”

Me: “No, you’re not.”

Caller: “Yes, ma’am. I am from Windows Technical Support and–”

Me: “Seriously? Still? Does anyone fall for this anymore?”

Caller: “You don’t understand, ma’am. I need your help to remove–“

Me: “Oh, come on. You know I know what’s up. I know this is a scam.”

Caller: “This is no scam. Listen to me. I need you to listen–“

Me: “This is a scam. Come on. Can’t you guys come up with something new?”

Caller: *getting pretty angry at this point, which I’m thrilled with, as I usually don’t get to mess with them this long* “Ma’am! Stop cutting me off! I need your cooperation, now! This is a very serious matter!”

Me: “Yes, I agree. Scams are a very serious matter. I’ll be forwarding your number on to the appropriate people.”

Caller: “No! You don’t listen! Your Windows computer—”

Me: “My Windows computer? I’m running a Mac.”

Caller: “Well, does anyone else in your household have a Windows computer?”

(She sounds completely frustrated right now, and I’m trying not to laugh.)

Me: “Well, yes, my mother has a PC. But I’m at work right now. Why are you calling me at work?”

Caller: *sounds of total exasperation* “This is a business?!”

Me: “Yes. It’s the business I answered with in the beginning.” *rolls eyes*

Caller: “Well, why didn’t you tell me?! You are wasting my time!”

Me: *puts on super cheery voice* “I sure am! Wasting scammers’ time is the best part of my day!”

Caller: *more sounds of exasperation followed by a dial tone*

(For the record, I’m not really on a Mac. I can’t believe this call went on for so long. Kind of made my day.)

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