Our subdivision provides water to residents via several wells. During a cold snap in Texas, our subdivision lost water pressure late one night, so I called the provider/contractor to ask them if they could fix the problem. Apparently, I reached an answering service rather than the provider/contractor, since it was after regular working hours.

I dialed the phone and waited a long time for somebody to answer. Finally, I got a recorded message and music. Lots of music. Terrible selection. More music…

Eventually, somebody answered.

Me: “I am in [Subdivision], and we have no water pressure. Can you get somebody out here to check the pumps?”

Service: “Where are you?”

Me: “[Subdivision], [zip code], near [City, State].”

Service: “We have no outage for that area.”

Me: “We are a subdivision of [number] residents. Has nobody called you with the same complaint?”

Service: “Yes, we have several calls from that area.”

Me: “Is that enough to report an outage?”

Service: “Wait a moment.”

About five or ten minutes of agonizing music…

Service: “The technician says it is frozen pipes.”

Me: “Last year, we had temperatures of four degrees Fahrenheit for a day and a half, and the pipes did not freeze. The outside temperature is now twenty degrees Fahrenheit, and it has been at that temperature for only a few hours. I really doubt the underground pipes froze that quickly. The technician is located seventy-five miles from here, in a completely different area, so they cannot state that our pipes are frozen. Can you get somebody out here to check?”

Service: “The technician says the pipes are frozen, and there is no need to go there. There is no reported water outage.” *Click*

I called several neighbors. They all had the same problem and had already called or promised to call the water company.

Twelve or more hours later, the tech arrived to investigate the problem. It was NOT frozen pipes. Apparently, a circuit breaker tripped at the pump station. Meanwhile, external water bibs that were left “on drip” froze, since there was no pressure to let them drip, and the water stagnated in the bibs. And, during the outage, we had no drinking, shower, or “flush” water.

During the outage, I volunteered to let people use my drippy nose as a substitute for their drippy faucets, but nobody took me up on that offer.

I am a customer returning a Blu-ray disc I bought for a friend who says his PlayStation 3 (his only Blu-ray player) cannot read the disc. Due to the fact that I purchased it and he is quite shy, I offer to exchange it.

Me: “Good morning. I purchased this Blu-ray a while back and, unfortunately, my PlayStation 3 is unable to read it.”

Cashier #1: “Have you tried enabling subtitles?”

I cannot for the life of me think of a reason he asked me this. Luckily for me, the cashier next to me understands what I am saying and steps in.

Cashier #2: *To [Cashier #1]* “Let me handle this.” *To me* “I can help you with that, mate. Are you looking to exchange or would you like a refund?”

I asked for an exchange and the rest of the transaction went without hitch. I looked back to the first cashier as I left, who had his head down and looked rather embarrassed.

It’s about 3:00 am, and I am on a night tube (metro) train home. I have been working a long weekend shift, but everyone else is out partying, so I think the train driver and I are the only ones on the train not drunk.

I hear the train driver say the following over the speakers for about a minute.

Train Driver: “Doors are closing. Please stand away from the closing doors.”

Train Driver: “I said the doors are closing! The doors will not close if you are in the way.”

I look around to check my carriage, but no one is blocking the doors; it must be a passenger somewhere else on the train.

Train Driver: “The train can’t move unless you move away from the doors.”

The doors finally close.

Train Driver: “Thank you to the passenger that pushed them out of the train.”

This story is part of our Editors’-Favorite-Stories-Of-2023-(so far!) roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

The Not Always Right 2023 Mid-Year Retrospective: 23 Top-Voted Stories

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I decide to try out a new restaurant in town. I walk in, take one out of literally half of the restaurant’s empty spaces and… wait. I wait some more, and before I know it I’ve waited for almost twenty minutes and the staff haven’t even shown any interest in doing their jobs.

When one of the waitstaff looks me dead in the eye and then turns her back on me, I decide to just stand up and leave. I leave a one-star review on their Google review page, noting that my review is the only review that is one-star, bringing an otherwise immaculate five-out-of-five rating to a 4.9.

The next day, I get an email from the review site, informing me that the owner has left me a comment. I assume they want to make amends, as they have left me their contact number. I make myself a nice cup of coffee, sit myself down, and call.

Restaurant Owner: “Hello?”

Me: “Hello, this is [My Name]. You left your number on my review?”

Restaurant Owner: “Ahh, yes. You must be One Star.”

Yes, he genuinely refers to me as “One Star”. Considering my name is on the review comment, this is not a great first step at amends.

Me: “Uhh… yeah, it’s [My Name]. I left the ‘one-star’ review on your page.”

Restaurant Owner: “Uh-huh, you see…. the reason why we have such good reviews before yours is that we want everybody to have a good experience with us.”

Me: “And this is relevant because…?”

Restaurant Owner: “Well, when you write reviews that are not strictly true, it gives off a bad impression, doesn’t it?”

Me: “Excuse me? What are you trying to say?”

Restaurant Owner: “Well, is there something you are perhaps not telling people in that review? Like how you waltzed by the ‘Please Wait To Be Seated’ sign?”

There was never any sign.

Me: “I beg your pardon? For your information, there was no sign whatsoever, and even if that was your policy, why did your staff show no interest in pointing it out rather than remaining glued to their phones?”

Restaurant Owner: “Look, we can pretend all we want, but that’s not the reason why you called, is it?”

Me: “Oh, really? So, according to you, not only am I a liar, but now you know my motive? Go on, then. Enlighten me.”

Restaurant Owner: “We will happily give you another chance in our restaurant, but I want that review deleted.”

I sputter a bit at this. How does a restaurant owner have such gall?

Me: “Neither of those notions is what I intend to entertain. And you know what? Once I have hung up this call, I will be adding this conversation to the next review. You do not speak to who pays your income like this, and you certainly do not tell them what they will or will not do.”

I hung up the call, and I made good on the promise of another review, bringing the 4.9 down to 4.8. I know it’s petty, but in the moment, they deserved it. Not long after, a lot of “anonymous” accounts sprung up posting five-star reviews, some of which tried denouncing my own. I wonder what sad and pathetic person would have to resort to that.

My mother and I spend the day doing some Christmas shopping in a nearby city, and we decide to stop for drinks at a chain coffee shop. I go to order our drinks while my mother goes to use the ladies’ room.

Me: “Hi. Could I have a medium Earl Grey tea without milk, and a medium Terry’s hot chocolate, please?”

Barista #1: “Sure, was that green-top milk with the tea?”

Me: “No, no milk, thanks.”

Barista #1: “Okay, and a small Terry’s hot chocolate?”

Me: “Medium, please.”

Barista #1: “Oh, oops, a medium. And did you want whipped cream on that?”

Me: “No, thanks.”

Barista #1: “Okay, so one medium Earl Grey, no milk, and one medium Terry’s hot chocolate, no cream. That’ll be [price], please.”

As I’m paying, [Barista #1] turns to [Barista #2].

Barista #1: “Medium Earl Grey with green-top milk and a small Terry’s hot chocolate.”

Me: “Medium hot chocolate, and no milk, please.”

Barista #1: “Oh, yeah. You know, I’m just losing the plot today. Completely losing it. I’m standing here looking at a plate, thinking, ‘What is a plate?’”

I head over to the area where [Barista #2] is making the drinks. After he finishes making the tea, I notice him making what appears to be a small hot chocolate.

Me: “Sorry, is that a medium?”

Barista #2: “…”

Me: “…”

Barista #2: “…”

Barista #2: “Just have that one. I’ll make the correct one, too.”

Me: “Oh, okay! Thanks!”

He finished both hot chocolates and slathered them both in whipped cream, and I thanked him again and took my drinks to a table. After a couple of minutes, my mother joined me at the table, looking down at the extra drink in confusion. I just burst into giggles. These baristas had clearly had a long day!