Karma By The Truckload

, , , , , | Legal | November 7, 2018

I work at a restaurant on a major thoroughfare. To get to work, I have to go through a six-lane intersection.

I’m sitting at the light, waiting for it to turn green. About two cars ahead and one row over is very large, jacked-up truck with every loud and obnoxious bell and whistle you could think of.

The millisecond that the light turns green, the truck lays on his horn. When the cars in front of him start moving, he revs his engine and releases a large cloud of dark exhaust before he guns it. The four or so cars around me, myself included, are encased in the cloud, and can’t see anything, causing us to have to sit for a moment until the cloud dissipates.

Then, the cop car behind me puts on his lights and siren, and chases the truck down.

And that, children, is called instant karma.

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Updates To IT Syllabus Required, As Teachers Frequently Have The Least Knowledge On Computers In The Class

, , , , , , | Learning | November 7, 2018

(It’s the early 2000s and my school has introduced a voluntary computer class. I am absolutely fascinated with computers, so naturally I sign up. I’m a bit confused why our domestic science teacher is teaching the class, but okay. Sadly, I soon come to understand that she probably got the job because she taught typewriting when that was still a thing. We immediately get off to a rough start. She asks the class what we need to build a functional computer. Eagerly, I put my hand up and start listing computer parts such as “motherboard,” “CPU,” “power supply unit,” etc., but the teacher shuts me down. She explains that, no, we need a mouse, a screen, a tower, and a keyboard. I protest that, strictly speaking, a tower alone would be a functional computer, and that there are also notebooks, but she won’t have any of it. She gives me a warning that she won’t tolerate goofing around and making up words. For the next lesson I plot the most evil revenge my geeky teenage brain can come up with, and flip the switch of the PSU on the teacher’s PC before class. Not being able to locate the problem, she has to end the lesson prematurely. As we do exclusively typewriting lessons, I drop the class a few lessons afterwards. Fast forward a few years. By now I’m an on-call IT support for a few schools to make some extra money. I’m called to my former school and, to my surprise, I meet my former teacher in the classroom that needs my attention. She explains that the computer didn’t start up after recess. I do my basic troubleshooting and, lo and behold, the switch of the PSU is flipped. Jokingly, I ask:)

Me: “Okay, who did this?”

(The students do give away the culprit by all turning their heads around to him simultaneously. The teacher is furious and sends him to the principal. I feel sorry for ratting him out and insist I accompany him and the teacher to the principal to give a factual account of what he did.)

Teacher: “He broke my PC! I want him formally reprimanded and a note sent to his parents.”

Me: “No, he simply pulled off the oldest and most benign computer prank in the books. He flipped the PSU switch.” *gesturing to it on the principal’s PC* “Really, if it helps to smooth things over, I will not bill you for this call. It really wasn’t a big deal. I’m pretty sure most people, and most certainly all of your students, could have fixed that if [Teacher] had asked them.”

Principal: “Okay. But, [Student], why did you even do this?”

Student: “I really just wanted to do a small prank. My dad told me a classmate of his did this and [Teacher] couldn’t fix it for half an hour before dismissing the class. I didn’t think she would fall for it again. I’m really sorry.”

Me: *having to stifle my laughter*

Principal: “Is everything all right?”

Me: “I’m sorry. I’m afraid this one is apparently partially my fault. I was that classmate. I was furious at [Teacher] because she ridiculed me in front of class, saying CPU is a made-up word.”

Teacher: *slowly realizing who I am* “Wait… You are… No! I never said CBU is a made up word!”

Student: “My dad actually told me this, too.”

Principal: *sighs* “Okay, I’m not going to send his parents a note or reprimand him. [Teacher], you’re free to give him an extra exercise as punishment. That should be enough.”

(I felt kind of bad for undermining her authority in front of the principal, but it was about time she realized that she was the person with the least knowledge about computers in the computer class she was teaching. From what I heard from students the next time I was there, it really did help. She now asks students what they want to learn, and lets students do presentations in between typewriting lessons. I hope she also learns a thing or two.)

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My Dad Is All That

, , , , , | Working | November 6, 2018

(I am about four years old. My father is an auto mechanic and woodworker and owns many tools. We walk around this particular hardware store every Sunday. We are currently in the tool section.)

Me: “You have that, and that, and that, and that, and that…”

Employee: *to my father* “Would be nice if you really did have all of that, wouldn’t it?”

Dad: “I do.”

(The employee walked away red-faced, with an awed expression.)

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Karma Is Sweet Wine

, , , | Right | November 5, 2018

(It’s a busy night at the club where I work as a food runner. We’re booked to full capacity, and everyone is demanding tons of drinks and food. I’m in the kitchen waiting for an order to finish when one of the floor servers comes in.)

Server: “Hey, Table #12 says they haven’t gotten their food.”

Me: “Table #12? Four women? Yeah, I brought them their food an hour ago.”

Server: “Well, they claim they haven’t gotten any of it.”

Me: “You serious?! I cleared it off ten minutes ago when I brought them another round! They had five different dishes!”

Server: “Well, [Boss] says to cook their food again; they’re complaining like crazy and getting loud.”

Me: “Okay, okay, fine.”

(Now, because we have to add their food into the queue, that means the dishes come out one at a time, instead of all together when they are usually ordered. So, in between serving other customers, I have to bring Table #12’s dishes out as they’re ready. The ladies at the table — one in particular — are very vocal about how long they have to wait and are extremely rude when I bring it. Finally, I get the last dish out.)

Me: “Here you are, ma’am. Is there anything else I can get you?”

Rude Customer: *ignores me, inspecting her food by the light of her phone*

Me: *forced sincerity* “Have a good evening, ladies.”

(Table #12 is close to a server’s station, where the server who told me to redo the food is standing. She has several dirty dishes on the counter from bussing tables. I go over to lend a hand.)

Me: “Everything going good?”

Server: “Yeah, just trying to get these checks paid out. Can you take those dishes, please?”

Me: “Sure.”

(I pick them up and turn around. What she didn’t tell me is that one of the trays has a full glass of wine on it. In the two steps it takes for me to walk past Table #12, I see the glass wobble. Before I can catch it, it tips over, spilling directly onto the rude customer at Table #12.)

Me: “Oh, s***!”

Rude Customer: “What the f***?!”

Rude Customer’s Friends: “Holy h***!”

Server: “Oh, God!”

(The customer shoots me a look of pure murder. The server grabs napkins and starts dabbing off the customer. I quickly retreat to the back where our bar area is. Walking past the bartender, I grab a glass of vodka, pour a shot, and down it.)

Bartender: “What happened?”

Me: “So, there I was in the kitchen…”

(In the end, Table #12 got their food and drinks for free, getting away with more than just their double-food scam, but the customer had to deal with being soaked in wine. I never planned to spill that wine on the customer, but I must say, karma is sweet.)

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A Lawyer Too Mature To Defend Himself

, , , , , , , | Friendly | November 2, 2018

(I’m a producer for a video game publishing company. I’m flying back from a business trip and making small talk with the guy seated next to me. He looks to be quite a bit older than me, maybe in his early 50s. He says, very smugly, that he works “in law.” When he asks what I do and I tell him, he scoffs.)

Guy: “Video games?”

Me: “Yes.”

Guy: *rolling his eyes and smirking* “Okay. That’s cute when you’re young, I guess. Well, you’ll grow out of it one day.”

Me: “I’m 34.”

Guy: “I’m just saying it’s a fun hobby, honey, not a career.”

Me: “I’ve been doing it for twelve years.”

Guy: “I’m just saying.”

(The woman seated on my other side, who is also quite a bit older than I am and hasn’t said ANYTHING up to this point, finally speaks up without raising her eyes from her book.)

Woman: “Yeah. Maybe she should just age into being a boring, condescending, judgemental jerk with a poor concept of personal hygiene who doesn’t know not to take his shoes off on a plane.”

(I think I gave myself a cramp trying not to burst out into shocked laughter. All I managed was to sort of double over snorting. He turned red, then sneered at her and said he “didn’t have time for immaturity,” and pulled out his laptop for the rest of the flight. I hadn’t actually been offended because by now I have heard it all when it comes to assumptions about my job, both good and bad, and I love what I do, but I have never had one stranger put another in their place on my behalf so sharply and effortlessly, before or since. It’s nice to have someone stand up for you. I hope as I grow older I can both have her confidence to do the same for someone else, and be assured that no matter who I talk to or what they do, I will never ever be like THAT guy.)

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