This is a story that happened to my coworker and flatmate.

My coworker worked as an assistant for out-of-country sales. She was able to land the spot despite not really speaking English thanks to a great temp assignment in accounting at the company.

One Sunday, the C-level head of foreign sales, an Italian living and working in Paris, went running. During that time, his wallet was stolen, along with his passport and VISA for a trip to Russia the next Tuesday.

This being a NAR story, you are probably waiting for this C-level boss to throw a tantrum about how it was unacceptable that he wouldn’t be able to make his flight.

You cannot be more wrong. He made his flight.

Thanks to my flatmate having the right contact in all organisations, and the heavy usage of fast-response delivery courier, my flatmate was not only able to get a temporary passport for her boss but also to regenerate his VISA and update travel information. All in a work day.

She told me it felt like being in a movie.

Unfortunately, this is still a NAR story…

Not only did my flatmate’s direct manager try to take all the credit for it (unfortunately, with partial success among C-level executives), but a few months later, she dared to write up my flatmate for globally not being efficient enough.

Let’s just say she left the company not long after.

Several years ago, I was volunteering at a charity shop from a national cancer charity. When I started volunteering, it was late spring, around the end of April or May. I volunteered in the shop two days a week throughout the summer.

One beautiful July morning, I arrived at the shop just as the manager came in from the back room, carrying some sort of stand, which he started setting up in the area directly in front of the cash register. I watched, intrigued.

Me: “What’s that you’ve got there, [Manager]?”

Manager: “This… is the stand for the official [Cancer Charity] Christmas cards. They go on sale today.”

Me: “Christmas cards?”

Manager: “That’s right. Christmas cards. The head office has instructed us to put them on sale today.”

Me: “But… it’s July!”

[Manager] smiled and sighed. I could tell that he was really not happy about having to put Christmas cards on sale in July, but he clearly had no say in the matter.

Manager: “Yes, [My Name]. It is July. But the head office has decided that they should go on sale today, so they go on sale today.”

Clearly unhappy, he set about unboxing the Christmas cards and putting them into the display. He had even been sent a PHOTOGRAPH from the head office, showing which cards went where in the display. I decided to make myself useful and help him put everything out.

Over the next few weeks, the display of Christmas cards sat there untouched. Nobody even looked at them. All our customers were either looking for lightweight summer clothing (July had been particularly warm for Belfast this year), DVDs (which always sold like hotcakes), or books (which also tended to sell pretty quickly).

In September of that year, I left the shop because I’d been accepted onto a new full-time college course, and by the time my last day came around, we hadn’t sold a single card.

In October, I had a few days off for half-term, so I popped into the shop to see everyone and say hi. After chatting with the woman at the cash register for a few minutes, I went into the back room, where I found [Manager] helping a couple of women steam some clothes ready for putting out onto racks.

Me: “Hi, [Manager]!”

He looked over his shoulder.

Manager: “Oh, hi, [My Name]! Great to see you!”

We spent a couple of minutes chatting, and he introduced me to one of the two women, who had only just started volunteering. I asked how things were going in the shop, and then I dropped this line.

Me: “I see those Christmas cards are selling well!”

[Manager] rolled his eyes and laughed.

Manager: “Oh, stop it. We haven’t sold even one of those bloody things. And we won’t. At least not until after Halloween!”

I’ve often wondered about who exactly in the head office made the decision that Christmas cards “had” to go on sale in mid-July, and I’ve had to conclude that it was someone who’d never actually WORKED in a retail environment — or they had, but it was so many years ago that they’d forgotten what it was like.

I lived across the street from a mid-sized manufacturing plant. This worked out well because everyone was gone by 3:00 pm and there was no traffic.  

There was a very large concrete water tank literally across the street from my house. It probably was the size of my house. Not a problem. It had landscaping around it.

Then, they decided to demolish it over Memorial Day weekend, presumably because their employees would be gone. My friend worked for the company and told me they had gotten a reasonable bid from a professional demolition company but decided to rent equipment and have their maintenance workers do the work.

We spent the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend listening to some kind of pile driver booming every fifteen seconds or so. All freaking day. I lived 100 feet from this. Literally across the street. It stopped late in the day.

By Sunday, I had had enough. This was before the Internet, so I just called the company’s main number, and if nobody answered, I’d call the next number in the sequence. I don’t know what I was hoping to accomplish, but I was a mom on a mission. It was a freakin’ holiday. My next-door neighbor had a rare day off from her hospital residency.

Finally, someone answered, and he was from (you got it) the maintenance department. He told me to call So and So on Tuesday and get this taken care of.

Challenge accepted!

I didn’t wait to call on Tuesday. I called the police department and asked about the noise ordinance. They said it was legal for the company to make noise, but like I said, I was a mom on a mission. So, I asked the question of a lifetime.

“How many decibels?”

They agreed to come out, and a half-hour later, an officer showed up in a fancy black van, presumably filled with electronics. He asked me what my zoning was, and heck, I didn’t know. He said he would have to assume it was residential. (It was,) So, he stood on my lawn and held up whatever device he had, and then he went over to talk to the workers.

Work immediately ceased, and we got our peace and quiet back. My friend who worked there said the company had to pay a big fine.

Later in the summer, a demolition company came and finished in no time with very little noise.

And we all lived happily ever after.

I suppose.

I received a letter from my mother’s bank, where I had a joint account with her. She passed away two years ago, and I thought the account was closed. But it seems it wasn’t; they asked if I would please call to close it.

I spent over thirty minutes on the phone with an employee, who wanted my credit card information, home address, social security, etc. I guess they were trying to confirm my identity.

After all that, I asked how much was remaining…

Fifteen cents!

I stop at a gas station with a convenience store just ten minutes from my house. In the convenience store is a little made-to-order food area. I order a sampler: boneless wings, mozzarella sticks, and jalapeño poppers. The employee calling out the orders is new.

Employee: “[Order number]!”

Woman: “Oh, that’s mine!”

Me: “Actually, it’s mine.”

I reach for the bag, but the woman snatches it from the employee and nearly runs from the store.

Me: “Um… that was mine.”

Employee: “She took it.”

Me: “Yes.”

Employee: “Okay?”

Me: “So… she took my food. I need it remade.”

Employee: “We already made it.”

Me: “And that woman took it instead of her order.”

Employee: “So… you want hers?”

Me: “No… I want my food remade.”

The employee rolls his eyes. I’m about to ask someone else for a manager when the woman returns.

Woman: “This is not my sandwich!”

She dumps the bag on the floor, and my food goes everywhere.

Woman: “What is wrong with you people?!”

Employee: “Did you order [sandwich]? [Order number not remotely close to mine]?”

Woman: “Yes!”

She holds up the order slip that shows what she ordered and her order number.

Employee: “It just got done! Have a nice day!” *To me* “Yes?”

Me: “I want your manager!”

He walks away, going on with the waiting orders. After three orders without a word to me, [Employee] rolls his eyes and goes to speak with someone else.

Manager: “Hi, I’m [Manager]. I’m the manager on duty today. I hear there was an issue with your food.”

Me: “Yes. Another woman took it, left the store, came back…” *gestures to the food on the floor* “…and dumped it on the floor. I asked for it to be remade, and your employee is… just… He offered me the other woman’s food but has ignored all requests to remake my food.”

Manager: *Eyes huge* “Oh. No, that’s not okay. I will give you a refund and personally remake your food right now. Please follow me to the register.”

I got my refund and fresh hot food before heading home. [Employee] tried to talk to [Manager] several times while he was cooking, but [Manager] only told him to go back to the other orders. As I was leaving, I looked back and saw [Employee] sweeping up the food the woman had dropped on the floor.

I have been back several times since but have not seen the new employee.