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Spy Games

, , , | Related | November 20, 2019

(Our granddaughter is now at camp. Because it’s November, it’s not taking place in the woods, but in a nice old mansion in the suburbs. My wife and I are taking an evening stroll and just happen to be in the vicinity. My wife pulls herself up to the fence.)

Wife: “I see them all! [Supervisor] is there, [Granddaughter’s Friend] is there, and look! There is [Granddaughter]! They seem to be playing some board games. Everything looks fine!”

Me: “Honey, you do realize it is perfectly legal just go inside and ask questions?”

Wife: “Are you crazy? I would be awkward to keep checking on her!”

Me: “And what exactly are you doing now?”

Wife: *beaming* ” I am spying! Totally different!”

They Should Have Czeched Before They Traveled

, , , , | Right | October 21, 2019

(I have a summer job at the reception of a hotel in Prague’s city centre, and our guests are mainly tourists. It is July 3rd. We have two national public holidays coming up, one on July 5th and second on July 6th. Neither is really celebrated unless it’s an anniversary year. The guests are clearly Americans; one of them has an American flag around his suitcase. There are four guys in total, somewhere from thirty to forty years old. They are generally pleasant and cooperate during the check-in.)

Me: “All right, you are all set. Can I help you with anything else? Any places you would like to visit and need directions for?”

Guest: *with the American flag on his suitcase* “Where are the celebrations? What is a good spot to watch the fireworks?”

Me: “Oh, the holidays are on July 5th and July 6th. Unfortunately, there won’t be any festivities. Only some places might be closed, and others might have different opening hours. But definitely nothing major.”

Guest: “What?!”

(He has been really nice up to this moment; however, he starts to raise his voice.)

Another Guest: “The fourth of July.”

Me: “Oh, you mean the American Independence Day?”

Guest: “YES!”

Me: “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid that here in the Czech Republic we do not celebrate the American holiday.”

Guest: “But we came here to celebrate it!”

(After that, the manager came down to the reception and dealt with them. All four guys seemed to be genuinely perplexed that there wouldn’t be any festivities to mark American Independence day in the middle of Europe. However, my manager was quick on his feet and suggested that they look for some Facebook group for expats living in Prague to find some Americans living in Prague that might be celebrating. When I asked my manager about the idea, it turned out they were not the first ones to ask about it.)


This story is part of our July 4th roundup!

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Surveying The Fast Food Landscape

, , | Right | July 30, 2019

(At my restaurant, we get surveys we have to hand out to customers; they go on our website and give us feedback. We often get some strange ones, like:)

Answer: “The food was great, the cashier was smiling, tables and floor were clean, all around nice, but since you are fast food you can’t be a good restaurant.”

Apparently, He’s Fine With Women Drivers, Though

, , , | Working | June 18, 2019

(On my first day working in this office, a six-foot-five male coworker asks me if I can drive him into work every day. He does pay me the regular fee everyone else does for driving them, so I agree. However, every time I’m left alone with him in the car, he starts saying sexist stuff about me being a fertile woman, uneducated in the field, and too young anyway. I’m 23 at the time, a history art graduate doing well, with a good office job in this IT company. The next time the guy tries to invite himself into my car again over email, I’m not reacting. He comes over, looking at his phone as he speaks to me.)

Guy: “At four, as usual?”

Me: “Me? Yes.”

Guy: *simply stating* “Okay. I know I said I’ll pay the debt today, but I’ll pay tomorrow, with today’s fee.”

Me: “Sure thing. It’s [fee, leaving today’s fee for a ride out].”

(He finally looks up from his phone, does the quick math, and frowns a little.)

Guy: “Plus [today’s fee for the ride].”

Me: “No.”

Guy: “What do you mean, no?”

Me: “Because I’m not driving you anymore.”

(He frowns, actually confused.)

Guy: “Why?”

Me: “Because I don’t want to.”

(There’s a short pause; he’s even more confused.)

Guy: “Why?”

Me: “Because you keep presenting your sexist opinions on women, even though I asked you not to a few times already and said I’d like not to talk about such things with you.”

(Not gonna lie, the adrenalin rush is a thing. The guy is staring at me, silent and confused.)

Me: “It’s [fee, leaving today’s fee for a ride out].”

(He pulls out the money and leaves it on my table before leaving without another word.)

Other Coworker: “I think I’m scared of you a little now. I wouldn’t have the balls to tell him the truth. Wow.”

(This was not my first time dealing with the sexist idiot. A moment later a boss from the office next door came and asked who talked to The Guy. Our boss pointed at me, a nearly five-foot-tall, petite girl, and the boss from next door started laughing really hard and said The Guy was sulking at his table. Turns out nobody is happy with him or his work and he refuses to take orders from the boss, who is a woman, and acts as if he does not hear her. Later on, he missed the bus and called me desperately, begging me to drive him for the last time. I refused, of course, because I’d be scared to do so, anyway, after all this. Later, he was seen CRYING near the office building back exit. He got kicked out the following week after making some remark about another lady boss in a whole different district office.)

Arrear Window

, , , , | Working | June 5, 2019

(Jobs are scarce, so I take a job at a place where the boss/owner is seven shades of crazy. There’s almost no heating during winter, lousy pay, commission money constantly in arrears, and “bonus” is considered a taboo word, but he is quick to cut our pay or fine us for any infraction. But then, I find him to be legitimately creepy. One evening I have my little granddaughter over, and we play “marching band,” me with an imaginary baton marching up and down the kitchen, and my little granddaughter following me with an imaginary tuba.)

Boss: “Hey, I was outside your window yesterday evening, and you behaved like a crazy person! Are you taking drugs or something?”

(Here I am, standing in the shop, trying to process what he just said. There is just so much wrong with it I don’t know where to start, so finally I say something that makes everybody laugh:)

Me: “And what would I be buying the drugs with? The pittance you are paying me?!”

(Call us petty and cruel, but we waited until the Christmas office party, and then we told him that we quit en masse on the 31st. He cannot figure out why there are no new workers flocking to his shop.)