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Spreading The Love, One Pyramid Scheme At A Time

, , , , | Friendly Working | May 16, 2022

A girl from my former church has managed to recruit a whole bunch of people from there to a popular multi-level marketing scheme. As a result, I keep getting pitched on social media by people that she has recruited. I am polite when telling them no.

However, after a long day at work, I arrive home to find yet ANOTHER social media invite to a “networking” event in my inbox. I leave a comment on the post asking them to take me off whatever list I’ve ended up on, because I’m not interested in MLMs, please and thank you. I don’t name anyone and I try to be polite, but firm. A few minutes later, I get a private message from the original “upline,” the girl from my former church.

Girl: “I saw your post. Who invited you?”

Me: “[Girl #2].”

Girl: “Sorry if you were offended by the invite, but you could’ve been nicer. [Girl #2] is new. You didn’t have to embarrass her.”

Me: “I didn’t name anyone until you asked me. I just want all of you to stop contacting me.”

Girl: “You go to [My Old Church], right? How about you be a good rep and show some love instead of being a discourager?”

Me: “I switched churches over a year ago. Please leave me alone.”

Girl: “Well, that’s not surprising!”

Me: “You want to talk about being a good rep of [Old Church]? You’re not great at it, either. Bye.”

She was still typing when I blocked her.

This Office Has A Rat

, , , , , , | Working | May 16, 2022

I work for the IT department of a rather big company as a first-level tech. My job is to answer the internal IT-Desk helpline, open a ticket, make a first assessment of the caller’s problem, if possible, solve it if it is minor, and forward it to the right expert if it isn’t.

I answer a call with my usual greeting, which clearly states that the caller has reached the IT help desk, but I am interrupted before I even get to it.

Caller: *Loud and upset* “You need to come here right now! There’s a rat in my drawer!”

Me: “Pardon me? There’s what?”

Caller: “A rat! There’s a rat in my drawer!”

Me: “I think you’ve got the wrong number; this is the IT helpdesk! You want maintenance. Let me get you—”

Caller: *Interrupting again* “No! I need help! This is the helpdesk! There is a rat in my drawer! Now come and help me, you lazy f***!”

Me: “And what am I supposed to do with your rat? Does it need software updates? You want a new casing for it or maybe a mousepad to make it cosy in your drawer? I can’t help you, madam! Call maintenance!”

The caller falls into expletives, yelling ugly derogatives at me before I can even try to give her the number for maintenance.

I don’t have to stay on the phone with abusive idiots who don’t understand that IT doesn’t have to play nice here, so I just disconnect the call and block her number for thirty minutes so she can’t immediately hassle a colleague. I am now lost as to what to put into the ticket I have to write for every call for documentation. Finally, I just put, “Caller tried to report a rat in her drawer. Directed her to maintenance.”

Every employee has a personalized caller ID that automatically attaches their tickets to their individual call in the system, auto-filling their names and positions as well. I don’t write in about the swear words and derogatives in detail as I think she was just scared of the rat, but I flag her as getting abusive anyway and hit the button to save the recording of the call which would otherwise be deleted as soon as I closed the call.

The next day, I get called into my boss’s office. Inside is a smug-looking woman leering at me, one of the department heads, and my boss.

Boss: “Well, we’re here to clear up an accusation against you. Mrs. [Caller] here insists you’ve cursed at her, belittled her, and refused to help her with a simple issue. Can you clear that up for us? I would have looked up your logs, but [Department Head] insisted on talking through that issue.”

Me: “Well, I insist on listening to that call right now; I saved it to the ticket just in case. Before that, we’re not talking about anything.”

I see Mrs. [Caller]’s face go pale, and she opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, my boss, who must have pulled the ticket with her name already, hits play, and the call recording blasts from his speakers.

After the whole fiasco plays, everyone is silent until my boss turns to the woman and says sweetly:

Boss: “So, what was it you wanted from us for your rat? The hardware or the software update?”

The department head is red as a tomato. Between clenched teeth, my boss apologises and shoos the woman out of the room. My boss is grinning from ear to ear.

Boss: “Sorry for that scene. I would not have allowed this to happen to anyone else, but I know you can take it. That moron, [Department Head], is just newly promoted and already trying to push his weight in a really inappropriate way. His whole department nowadays behaves as if they’re everyone’s bosses, and they need a little pushback. And I needed a witness.”

I assured him it was all okay and agreed to go on and put in a complaint against both with Human Resources along with my boss. The next time I got that woman on the line — this time for an actual IT issue — she was very meek and subdued.

HR listened to the call, and I know she got a warning not to treat colleagues that way.

During the next meeting with my boss, he dropped that the department head was demoted again. He hadn’t even lasted a month.


Gay People Exist. Surprise?

, , , | Working | CREDIT: DrMDQ | May 13, 2022

I am traveling to rural [Southern State] for work, and I’m staying in a hotel. My husband needs to bring me some paperwork that I forgot halfway across the state. We are both men.

I go down to talk to the employee at the front desk.

Me: “Hi, I am leaving for work now. My husband is bringing me some paperwork, but I will not be here because I’ll be working. He will be here in about four hours. Can you please let him into room [number]? His name is [Husband] and he looks like [description].”

Employee: “Huh?”

I repeat my previous statement.

Employee: “Oh. So, your boss is coming with paperwork?”

Me: “No, my husband.”

Employee: “Oh, okay, did you mean your coworker?”

Me: “No, it’s my husband. The man I am married to. We are gay.”

Employee: “Okay, I’ll let your friend in when he gets here.”

I mean, I know it’s rural [Southern State], but have they never had a gay hotel guest? Am I crazy? Anyway, the rest of the hotel staff have been very lovely. I just found this both confusing and amusing.

The Trolley Cops Want You To Have Late Fees!

, , , , , | Working | May 13, 2022

I borrowed a large number of craft books, all pretty big and bulky and HEAVY, from our local library. The library is right next to the supermarket, so patrons park in the supermarket car park. The library book drop is literally right next to the trolley bay; in fact, if the line of trolleys is too long, they block the book drop. Yes, it’s a bad design.

I was doing my weekly grocery shop, so I piled the books into the car, parked at the supermarket, did my shopping, and took the full trolley back to my car. That’s where the fun began.

An employee was in the car park collecting trolleys, and he spotted me unloading my trolley. He headed my way with his long line of trolleys.

Employee: “Hi! I’ll take that for you when you’re done.”

Me: “It’s okay. I’ll take it back to the trolley bay.”

Employee: “No, it’s fine. I’ll wait.”

Me: “I’m going to use it to carry my books. I’ll leave it in the bay when I’m done.”

Employee: “You can’t take it away from [Supermarket]. I’ll just take it now.”

Me: “I’m not taking it anywhere! I’m just going to take my books to the book drop.”

By then, I’d finished putting my bags into the car, and he tried to grab the empty trolley. I quickly grabbed a book bag and put it in the trolley.

Employee: “This is for [Supermarket]! You can’t take it anywhere else.”

Me: “I’m literally taking it back to the trolley bay. Honestly, it’s not going anywhere else.”

As I turned my back to get the second bag, he obviously saw his chance. He put the first bag on the ground, added my trolley to his line, and started pushing them back to the store.

I picked up both very heavy bags and walked to the library. I literally walked right next to him all across the car park, across the forecourt, and right up to the trolley bay. And then I darted in front of him and stood feeding my books into the book drop. He had to wait because I was blocking him from putting his line of trolleys away. Petty? Yes. But satisfying.

Thanks For Making College Life Even Harder

, , , , , , | Learning | May 13, 2022

I’m employed by the housing service of a prestigious university, directing inbound students to the best options for their needs. One such student is a boy, who, due to not feeling confident in living entirely alone just yet, has decided to not live in a flat and instead to get a bed in the all-male dorms. I give him all the information needed to start the enrolment process and think nothing of it.

A few days later, I get a call.

Me: “Hallo, [University]’s Student Housing Services. How may I be of help?”

Boy: “Hello, it’s me, [Boy]. I called two weeks ago about getting a place in the dorm, but I’ve had a bit of a problem.”

Me: “What kind of problem? Anything serious?”

Boy: “Uh, yeah, the headmaster, or whatever he’s supposed to be, sat me down after the dorm tour and told me I wasn’t a very good fit for the dorm and that I should go look for a flat.”

Me: “That’s weird. Did he elaborate?”

Boy: “No, he didn’t say much else.”

Me: “Okay, then. Do you mind if I inform myself and then get in touch with you by the end of this week?”

Boy: “Sure.”

And so the call ends. I immediately call the dorm manager’s office, figuring that something REALLY major had come up to tell him he couldn’t get into the dorm. After getting transferred from the secretary, in a few minutes, I’m on the phone with him.

Dorm Manager: “Hallo, [Dorm]’s office, [Dorm Manager] speaking.”

Me: “Hallo, Mr. [Dorm Manager], I have been called by a student called [Boy] [Surname]. He says that, after touring the dorm’s facilities, he was told that he wasn’t allowed to take a room. He told me he has not been told the reason behind it. Is that true?”

Dorm Manager: “[Boy]? If she is what I think she is, that’s not her name.”

There’s a long beat, as I’m confused.

Me: “Come again?”

Dorm Manager: “She was not a boy but a girl. I don’t understand what she was trying to accomplish in trying to hide her breasts and pass herself as a boy to enter my dorm, but, regardless, she isn’t supposed to be here. She should go contact the girl student dorm.”

Me: “Huh? His voice sounded quite masculine to me.”

Dorm Manager: “The voice did, but I guarantee you she didn’t look like a boy in the slightest, neither in face nor in body. I am not going to let some kid’s girlfriend sneak in to live with them.”

Me: “I think I’m going to research this matter a little deeper. Something is not quite adding up here.”

And I hang up. While I’m not allowed to access any files that could be considered sensitive, I do notice that [Boy] sustained the admission exam to university under the name he gave me; if this was just somebody’s girl trying to get a free room with her boyfriend, she would have to be extremely committed.

A couple of days later, I decide to send an email to my boss about it and then call the boy back.

Me: “Hallo, [Boy], [University]’s Student Housing Services.”

Boy: “Hallo, any news?”

Me: “Yeah, I’ve called the dorm manager. He has told me you looked like a girl and rejected you on those grounds.”

Boy: “Uhhh… what? Can he even do that? Can’t I appeal that?”

Me: “I think you should give a call to my boss. I’m afraid I cannot help you with this directly.”

And I give him the number. A few hours later…

Boss: “Hallo, [My Name], do you remember [Boy]? [Surname], the one.”

Me: “Yes, I do. I gave him your office’s number.”

Boss: “I have seen his file and talked about it with him. He’s definitely a guy, no two ways about it. Strike out a spot from the dorm. I will deal with it myself.”

Me: “Okay, if you say so.”

And he hangs up. I receive no information about it for a long time until midway through the first semester of university when I receive a call from [Boy].

Boy: “Hello, it’s me, [Boy]. I’m sorry, and I know it’s quite a lot to ask, but would it be possible to find an apartment now?”

Me: “Hello, [Boy]. May I ask why you want to leave the dorm?”

Boy: “I… I don’t feel comfortable in there. The place is nice and all, but the dorm manager keeps calling me to his office and telling me I shouldn’t be here or that I don’t look like a guy or…”

At this point, silence falls.

Me: “Hello? Are you there?”

There’s a long beat, and then I hear some sniffling.

Boy: “Uh… yeah, I’m here. It just hurts to talk about. Can I get a place in another dorm or an apartment with other people, pretty please? I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Me: “I will see what I can do.”

I decide to get the other side of the story just in case.

Dorm Manager: “Hallo, [Dorm]’s office, [Dorm Manager] speaking.”

Me: “Hallo, Mr. [Dorm Manager]. A student has been complaining about your behaviour toward him. His name is [Boy] [Surname]. May I know what is going on exactly?”

Dorm Manager: “What is going on? She isn’t [Boy]. She literally is just some girl who decided to change her name and gender because she liked football. I don’t care how much she likes [Football Team] or how much she wants to lop off her breasts. She is not a man, and she will never be, and I am not going to keep a woman around my dorm just to please some dumb idiot who thinks he knows better than I do. She either gets out of my dorm on her own, or I will make her wish she had never bothered.”

It all finally clicks.

Me: “Oh, okay, I do finally understand. I will be sure to pass this around.”

Dorm Manager: “You’d better. Goodbye.”

Little does he know, I am not going to communicate that to the poor guy.

Me: “Hello, [Boss]. [Dorm Manager] is apparently harassing [Boy] [Surname].”

A deep sigh comes from the other side of the phone.

Boss: “Jesus Christ, [Dorm Manager] really is the dumb motherf***** I thought he was. You’d think he loves long talks with the rector. Fine, I’ll get to work once again.”

To make a long story short: my boss emailed the university’s rector, who in turn demanded that the dorm manager visit him, and apparently, he had quite the choice of words for him. They started arguing, and then the rector gave the dorm manager his walking papers, replacing him with his direct underling, who was much more diplomatic. The trans boy ultimately decided to stay in the dorm and has thanked me, though, really, he had to thank both the rector and my boss.