You Really Had To Travel To Get The Answer

, , , , , , , , | Working | October 16, 2017

(I have signed up for health insurance through my job a few months ago, and my new cards are starting to come in the mail for the new year. I receive one set that is confusing, so I call the numbers on the back of the card and in other parts of the paperwork to clarify what it is for. The numbers only lead to an automated system, and there is no number for a direct help line, but I decide to try the trick of repeatedly hitting the “wrong” button. That is, the options are 1, 2, or 3, and I repeatedly only hit 8. It takes a while, but I am finally transferred to a human operator.)

Operator: “Thank you for calling Work Services. How can I help you?”

Me: “Yes, I’ve just gotten my health cards in the mail, but I’m not sure what this particular card covers. I’ve made some changes since last year’s coverage and I don’t recognize this one, and the paperwork that came with it doesn’t make any sense.”

Operator: “What does the paperwork say?”

Me: “The paperwork says ‘Travel Card,’ but the card itself has symbols for medical and prescriptions on it, and the paperwork has instructions about logging in bus tickets and stuff.”

Operator: “Yes, that’s your travel card.”

Me: “But what does that mean?”

Operator: “What is the card number on the front?”

Me: *gives him the number*

Operator: “Okay, I’ve activated your card. Anything else I can do for you?”

Me: “What is the card for?

Operator: “It’s a travel card, so you use it to pay for prescriptions. It’s for travel expenses.”

Me: “Travel card or prescription card?”

Operator: “It’s a travel card. So, you use it to pay for the bus and your work reimburses you for the cost of getting to work.”

Me: “But I don’t take the bus.”

Operator: “Well, subway, train, whatever. You’ve received the public transportation coverage.”

Me: “I have never even heard of that, and I don’t take public transportation to get to work. Anyway, the paperwork and the card itself don’t match up, because the card has a medical symbol and a prescription symbol on it.”

Operator: “It’s a card to pay for prescriptions.”

Me: “You just said that it was for paying for the bus.”

Operator: “Okay, I’ll cancel it.”

Me: “I don’t even know what you are cancelling; is this a card for prescriptions or a card for the bus?”

Operator: “You didn’t sign up for the travel card, so I’m cancelling it.”

Me: “I don’t want you to cancel it if it’s for prescriptions.”

Operator: “I’m just going to cancel it.”

Me:Do not cancel it. If it’s for prescriptions and medical, I need it.”

Operator: “You signed up for the travel card?”

Me: “No.”

Operator: “I’m cancelling it.”

Me:Do not cancel it!

Operator: “I can cancel it.”

Me: “I want to talk to a supervisor, please.”

Operator: “I can just cancel it.”

Me: “Please get me someone who can explain what this card is for. I want to talk to a manager or something.”

Operator: “Okay, I’m cancelling your card.”

Me:Get me your supervisor, please!

Operator: “I’m going to cancel—“

(By this point I’ve pretty much lost my mind running in circles with this guy, and I’ve got the phone out at arm’s length and I’m just screaming.)

Me:SU-PER-VI-SOR! SU-PER-VI-SOR! SUPERVISOR! DO NOT CANCEL IT!

Operator: “Ugh, fine. I’ll put you on hold.”

(After ten minutes on hold the line picks up again.)

Operator: “Are you still there?”

Me: “Yes.”

Operator: “Oh. Did you want a supervisor?”

Me:Yes, please!

(Five minutes of hold later I am speaking to a woman.)

Supervisor: “Thank you for calling Work Services. I am [Supervisor]. How can I help you?”

Me: “Hello, I’ve just gotten a card in the mail with medical and prescription symbols on it, but the paperwork that came with it says ‘Travel Card,’ and I’m really confused.”

Supervisor: “Can I have the card number please?”

(I give her the number.)

Supervisor: “And can you describe the card exactly, just in case?”

Me: “It’s blue with an orange swoosh on it, with three symbols: a bandaid, a medical cross, and that snake and staff thing that hospitals have.”

Supervisor: “Okay, that is in fact your prescription and medical card which can be used for medications and copays, which matches with the information in our system as part of your coverage plan. The travel card would have been orange and red with a picture of a bus on it. And the system shows that it is activated and ready for use beginning January 1st. And you said that the paperwork that came with it was the travel card paperwork? That’s a mistake. I’m going to send you a fresh copy of the correct paperwork for the medical card. I can’t imagine how that happened.”

Me: “Envelope stuffers.”

Supervisor: “Haha, yep, probably.”

Me: “So, I have received the correct card, but not the correct paperwork.”

Supervisor: “Exactly. Does that help you?”

Me: “Absolutely! I appreciate it. So… he kept saying he was cancelling my card; it won’t get cancelled will it?”

Supervisor: “Oh, no! I’ll take care of it right away to make sure that doesn’t happen to you. I’ve got this. I’ll get the paperwork in the mail tonight or tomorrow, too. I’m going to take care of it.”

Me: “Your calls are recorded?”

Supervisor: “Yes.”

Me: “Awesome.”

(True to her word, I got the correct paperwork in the mail just a few days later, and no more hiccups. I hope that someone eventually hears the recording of the s***-storm of the first half of the conversation.)

Wisdom Teeth Do Not Make You Wise

, , , , | Working | October 15, 2017

(I am getting my wisdom teeth taken out, but have elected to have it done with just Novocaine and nitrous oxide, laughing gas, so I am awake during the procedure. This takes place immediately after the oral surgeon has injected Novocaine into the base of one tooth and is about to pull it.)

Oral Surgeon: “Jesus f***, what is this?”

Assistant: “What’s wrong?”

Oral Surgeon: “There aren’t enough teeth!”

Assistant: “What?”

Oral Surgeon: “She’s missing teeth!”

(I was born with two less teeth than normal on my top jaw, which allowed those wisdom teeth to come in just fine.)

Me: “Yup.” *lifts up my hand and taps the area where the teeth would have been* “Missing these. Thought you knew.”

(I probably should have mentioned it at the consultation, but I would have thought that the guy who had my x-rays for a few weeks and looked in my mouth during the consultation would have noticed something that strange! On the plus side, I only had to get the bottom teeth removed!)

The Alarm Tag Wasn’t Designed For This Alarming Situation

, , , , , | Right | October 11, 2017

(I work in a big retail store. Our clothes have those annoying plastic tags on them that require a cashier to slide them into a magnetic setup at the registers to remove them. This happens one day as I am working the returns counter, and an elderly woman approaches me.)

Customer: “I bought pants here, and they didn’t remove that alarm tag. Can you do that?”

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry about that.”

(I see that she has no shopping bag, but I think perhaps they are in her car or purse.)

Me: “I can take care of that for you right here. It is store policy that I ask to see a receipt before removing any tags, though.”

(The woman places her purse on the counter and takes the receipt out. I can see there is, indeed, a pair of pants on her receipt.)

Me: “Okay, I can see the pants here on the receipt, so if you want to go ahead and bring them in I can certainly take care of that for you.”

Customer: “Perfect! Where should I stand? Should I sit up here?” *gestures to my counter*

Me: “Pardon?

(The woman then lifts up her leg a bit, and I can very clearly see the nub of the tag on the seam of her pants, near the hem.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I can’t remove the tag with them still on you. That’s quite impossible with our setup.”

Customer: “You mean I need to take them off?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry. I have no way to remove that tag while you are wearing them. You would have to come back with them not on so I can take off that tag.”

Customer: “Okay, then.”

(She steps back, and I assume she is going to leave and come back, when, I kid you not, this woman then proceeds to unzip her pants and starts to remove them.)

Me: “Ma’am? I’m sorry, what are you doing?”

Customer: “You said you can’t get it off while I’m wearing them. What does it look like I’m doing?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t have you do that, here, in the middle of the store.”

(I begin looking around now because there is a line behind her, and I am nervous that at any point my manager will come around, and that I will somehow be blamed for this woman trying to strip down.)

Customer: “Well, how the f*** are you going to get it off?”

Me: “You will have to come back on another day with them not on?”

Customer: “That’s a waste of my time! I came all the way here, just to find out you can’t take this tag off! You deserve to be fired for lying to the elderly!”

(She stormed off. I saw her again a week later, wearing the same pants, with the same alarm tag still on.)

Unfiltered Story #96683

, | Unfiltered | October 8, 2017

My older sister and I are identical twins, and we manage to create chaos without even trying. My sister went in for an appointment for the first time at the hospital. The receptionist gave her a clipboard and told her to make any necessary changes to her personal information. They grew concerned when they noticed that she was making a lot more changes than usual. It never crossed my sister’s mind to say anything about the many changes that needed to be made–until they put the ID bracelet around her wrist. It turned out that the appointment was made in my name! When the error was discovered, my sister had to reschedule her appointment so that she could be put into their system. When she returned, the receptionist said, “Oh, we know you!” They later told her that the entire department had to attend a seminar on paying attention to detail!

Your Account And Thermometer Are In The Red

, , , , , , , , | Working | October 6, 2017

I worked at a franchise location of a sandwich shop that was owned by a husband and wife who were notoriously cheap.

In early July, right after Independence Day, the air conditioning broke and they priced it out to be a $300-500 repair. They decided that because summer was “almost over” we should suck it up, and they would fix it in the autumn or winter when they could get a better rate.

The weather continued to get hotter and more humid. On several occasions, my coworkers had to leave shifts early because of heat sickness. It was regularly over 90 degrees, and with the bread ovens going, we were left working with sweat dripping down our faces, pools of sweat under our armpits, and our shirts sticking to our backs. We made a point of babysitting each other to watch for signs of dehydration and to remind each other to drink water.

Then, the freezer stopped working; we lost several hundreds of dollars of frozen stock because the freezer broke from running too hard. The icemaker in the soda fountain broke. Then, one of our service fridges. In order to serve customers, we had to walk back and forth from the prep room for sandwich meats. Then, the toaster oven overheated. One of my coworkers finally actually passed out on shift one afternoon, and my bosses were pissed that I was called in to cover her, because I ended up with overtime. Customers stopped coming into the building because of the oppressive heat.

By September, my bosses were out several thousand in repairs, stock replacement, and new equipment, all because they wanted to pinch a few pennies.

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