There Is Mushroom For Improvement

, , , , | Working | August 15, 2017

(This story takes place in a diner late at night. I have just gotten off work and meet my parents and brother for a later dinner. We get seated and can already tell this is gonna be a rough meal: the waitress takes 10 minutes to come ask for our drink order, and another 20 before asking for our entree order. My mother orders a senior omelette, due to a food allergy in the regular omelette, and fruit, and I order a regular hamburger. This occurs once the waitress brings over our food.)

Mom: “I can’t eat this. This is the regular omelette.”

Waitress: “Oh, well, it’s bigger than the senior omelette, so really, you’re getting a deal here.”

Mom: “No, I specifically ordered the senior omelette due to my mushroom allergy. This will kill me if I eat it.”

Waitress: “Well, I guess I’ll take it back, then, but it will take a little bit of time to whip up a new one.”

(The waitress takes away my mom’s food, and she begins to eat my dad’s fruit to hold her. I go to take a bite of my hamburger, and realize it’s drenched in some type of barbecue sauce. Not wanting to make a huge issue, I eat a few bites, but can’t stand any more than that. 30 minutes later my mom’s food comes out; the manager bringing it out this time.)

Manager: “We’re really sorry about the mix up; we upgraded the omelette so that you got the size of the regular omelette, with the ingredients of the senior.”

Mom:“Well, thank you for that, but I ordered fruit, not hash browns, due to a diet restriction. But no point in waiting another hour to get fruit. My daughter will just eat them.”

Manager: *laughing slightly uncomfortably, she turns to me* “Well, I hope you’re hungry!”

Me: “I am. This hamburger was disgusting, and not what I ordered, I just didn’t want to sit here for another hour waiting for you to cook it, since we’ve been here almost two hours and my mom just got her meal. This was horrible service, and I would suggest you review your wait staff on proper customer service.”

(The manager assures me she will take care note of my suggestions, and leaves. We go up to pay.)

Waitress: “Your total is [total].”

Me: “No.”

Waitress: “What do you mean, sweetie?”

Me: “You expect my parents to pay full price for a horrible meal that took almost three hours to complete? Absolutely not!”

(My mother quickly ushers me out while my dad begins to pay. When he gets in the car, he turns to my mother.)

Dad: “We should take her out to dinner more often.”

Mom: “Why’s that?”

Dad: “She just got our waitress to give us our meal for free.”

Absolutely Megnificent

, , , , | Right | August 10, 2017

(I’m working a few hours into my shift when a man comes up and notices my name.)

Customer: “Meghan? That’s an Irish name. Was it always your name?”

Me: “No, sir, my name was originally Megatron.”

Customer: *completely serious* “Really? That must have been hard growing up, with your siblings and friends teasing you.”

(My brother, who works as a bagger in the store, walks by.)

Me: “I don’t know. Hey, [Brother]! This man wants to know if it was hard for me growing up with you teasing me because of my name being Megatron.

Brother: “We teased her all the time.”

Customer: “Huh, I feel kind of bad for you.”

Me: “Sir, my name has always been Meghan. I was kidding. The Megatron thing was a joke from Family Guy.”

Customer: “Oh. Well I heard something about the Irish calling their daughters ‘Meeghan’ from birth to age 16. Then they are called Meghan as a coming of age thing.”

Me: “Well, sir, I wouldn’t know. I’m mostly French-Canadian and I don’t think my family ever had that in mind. Have a good day.”

(He walked out, still looking very confused.)

This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 68

, , , , , , | Right | August 9, 2017

(I work for a bank where the majority of our accounts are with college-age students. Many of them have never before had a bank account or had any financial education. A lot of our calls deal with upset account holders with negative or overdrawn accounts, and they can’t understand how it got that way. This call lasts about an hour total, an hour that I will never get back.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Bank]. I am [My Name]. May I please have your account number?”

Customer: *provides account number and verifies herself*

Me: “Thank you for that information; how can I help you today?”

Customer: “Yeah, um, I should have more money in my account. Why don’t I have any more money?”

Me: *pulls up statements and reviews them quickly* “I’m sorry, ma’am, it looks like you spent your funds in the last week or so. I’m seeing a lot of transactions on your statements. Have you looked at them yourself?”

Customer: “Yeah, I looked at them, and I know I bought all that stuff, but I should have more money. Where’s the rest of it?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. It appears you’ve spent all the money currently in your account. The balance you see displayed is how much you have left.”

Customer: “NO! I know I should have more money. I did NOT spend that much. WHERE IS THE REST OF MY MONEY?!”

(As a way to calm the customer, I offer to go over their transactions with them one by one and explain how the money got spent. I proceed to spend the next half hour going line by line in their statement, explaining the debits of each purchase and the remaining balance after the purchase starting from when they received their deposit earlier in the week.)

Me: “So you see, ma’am, this is why your account is at this balance. The purchases we just went over brought your total to what you see now. Do you think any of the items should be disputed as an unauthorized transaction?”

Customer: “Hmm, uh-huh, yes, I do recall all of those purchases. I just don’t understand where all my money went.”

Me: “Ma’am, as we discussed, you spent the money. There is nothing left from your deposit. What you see is what you have.”

Customer: “So then why don’t I see the rest of my money? Did your company take it? Are you stealing from me?”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not sure what money you are referring you. You received a deposit of [amount] on [Date] and since then you’ve spent all but the $5.14 you see now on your balance page. We just went over each transaction you made since the deposit and you confirmed them with me. You have spent all your funds; there is no more money left.”

Customer: “What do you mean? I KNOW I have more money. You took it! I know you did! Your company is a sham! I’m telling everyone to stay away from you.”

(This tirade goes on for over five minutes, with her screaming obscenities, calling me a liar, demanding I put the money back into her account, etc.)

Customer: You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!” *slams phone*

Me: *stunned silence*

A Land-Line To Middle-Earth

, , , | Romantic | July 5, 2017

(My boyfriend is from Oklahoma. I’m originally from Connecticut, but moved to OK with him. If you aren’t familiar with either area, they are quite different. OK is fairly flat and mostly plains, while CT is very hilly and densely wooded, even in populated areas. When we visit my parents, the boyfriend has some problems adjusting…)

Boyfriend: “Hey, can I use your cell phone? Mine can’t connect and I need to make a call.”

Me: “You waited for me to get home? Why didn’t you just use the landline?”

Boyfriend: “Er… I forgot.”

Me: “I told you to use it if you needed!”

Boyfriend: “Well, people aren’t supposed to have landlines anymore!”

Me: “We have to! Cell reception here is terrible!”

Boyfriend: “WELL, THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR LIVING IN F***ING MIDDLE-EARTH!”

(Also worth noting, almost no one in my family is over 5’4″, while the boyfriend is over 6′. When we visit now, he refers to it as ‘meeting the Hobbits in Rivendell.’)

Ebola Sounds Better Than The Cubicle Farm

, , , , | Working | June 29, 2017

I used to work for a payment collection call center. It was a real revolving-door sort of place, people always quitting, new people always coming in, less-than-stellar corporate policies, all packed into a big cubicle farm.

One day I’m at my desk, trying my best to handle some customers, when I notice a lot of the supervisors and higher-level personnel seem to be gathering and chatting fervently. I assume it’s nothing important and that they’re probably all just getting together to go to the supervisor office to eat candy and laugh at all the normal employees. Yes, they really did that. I return my focus to work.

A few minutes later, I hear loud footsteps. I peer down the room again, and now in addition to the supervisors, there are several firemen. And I can tell they are firemen because they are dressed for the part: yellow jackets, red helmets, and masks. I think one of them even has an axe. I am a little worried about this, but since nobody is saying anything, I just figure it is a burst pipe or something and go back to work.

Later still, the footsteps have gotten louder, and the supervisors and firemen have been joined by police officers. I am now officially worried. Sure enough, we finally get the word that we need to vacate the building. We power down our computers and are herded down the incredibly narrow fire escape into the parking lot.

Here’s what happened, according to one of my coworkers who spoke to an officer. In the office that shares a building with ours, a random guy went up to the front desk and placed a single glass test tube. On that test tube was a piece of sticky tape with one word scribbled onto it: “EBOLA.” Naturally, the police were called, and when the man who brought the tube was questioned, he said it was “the cure for Ebola.” The test tube was obviously empty, but to play it safe, the building had to be vacated for about two days.

Here’s where those corporate policies I mentioned come in. You would think, in a situation like this, we would simply be told to go home. Once we’re all herded into the parking lot, the supervisors explain that we all have to get in our cars and drive to the company’s sister office, an entirely separate cubicle farm, at which we’ll spend the next two days.

There are two problems with this:

  1. The second office is already grossly overcrowded, unable to accommodate the people who are actually supposed to be there. It is statistically unlikely that any of us will be able to even get a computer, much less get any work done.
  2. Nobody knows the second office’s address. The supervisors just parrot “follow us, follow us” over and over, but even if we ask for the address just in case, they refuse to give it up for some unknown reason.

I try my best to follow the enormous line of cars, but the car I’m behind suddenly pulls into a commuter parking lot. I follow them and ask why they stopped. Apparently, she is equally clueless as to where we are going, as is the person she was following. We just sit there for a few minutes, heavily considering just ditching work, but the other driver manages to wrestle the second office’s address from her temp agency after calling them, and we manage to make our way there.

And to top it all off, when we finally arrived, the supervisors didn’t even know we had been gone, greeting us with an emotionless “get back to work.”

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