A Crustacean Inflation

, , , , , , | Working | February 15, 2019

My mother has a serious shellfish allergy; as she gets older, it has become progressively more serious. When she eats shellfish, she needs to go to the emergency room. Her friends are well aware of this; every time she eats out at a place that serves crustaceans, she explains it to the wait-staff in excruciating detail. She also lives in a part of the country where shrimp makes an appearance in many food items, so she has to repeat this often.

One day, my parents are having dinner with a friend of theirs. A few bites into dinner, my mother can sense that something is wrong. She mentions this to my father, who confirms that she’s having a reaction, and he asks the hostess whether there was shellfish in the food. The hostess says that there was, but that she took the shrimp out when she remembered about my mom’s allergy.

My parents immediately ask where the nearest hospital is and get ready to leave. The hostess disappears as they’re putting on their coats. When she emerges, she has boxed up their leftovers so they can eat them later.

Enemy Of The State

, , , , | Working | February 14, 2019

(I’m with a friend and we’re buying tickets to see Deadpool at the movies. I just turned 18 yesterday, and my friend is 18, so we’re old enough to watch the movie. When it’s my turn, the guy in the ticket booth asks to see my ID. I give him my Norwegian passport and that’s when the trouble begins.)

Employee: “I need to see a state-issued ID.”

Me: “That is a state-issued ID.”

Employee: “No, this isn’t from the US. I need state-issued ID.”

Me: “That’s what it is, though. It was issued from the state.”

(This goes back and forth until a manager comes out.)

Manager: “What’s the problem here?”

Employee: “She’s given me a foreign passport, but I need a state-issued ID.”

Manager: “A passport is a state-issued ID. Give her the ticket.”

(The employee still refused to sell me a ticket, so the manager did it while apologizing.)

The Gift Card That Keeps On Taking

, , , , , , | Working | February 13, 2019

(I purchase two items at a department store, but the next day I decide I should really be saving money and decide to return them. On the day of my purchase:)

Me: “Just these two, please.”

Employee #1: “Because you’re spending $200, you get a $50 gift card to use at a later date!”

Me: “Okay, great. Thanks.”

(The next day, when I decide to go back and return my items:)

Me: “Hello, I’d like to return these two items I purchased yesterday.”

Employee #2: “Absolutely, let me help you with that. Okay, so, it looks like you’ll be getting $150 back.

Me: “Wait, what? I spent $200!”

Employee #2: “Oh, well, it says they gave you a $50 gift card for the future, so you get to keep that, and then the return is the remaining $150.”

Me: “What? No. I don’t want the gift card. Here, it is in the bag with the item. Take the gift card back and give me my $200 back!”

Employee #2: “We can’t refund the gift card.”

Me: “WHAT?!”

Employee #2: “Don’t worry! You still have the $50 to use in the future at any stores or online.”

Me: “I don’t want the $50 gift card. I want my money back!”

Employee #2: “Well, we don’t do that, so it is not an option.”

(We went in a circle for almost fifteen minutes until I stormed out and called corporate. They seemed perplexed by the employee’s behavior and told me they were going to refund me and to just go ahead and keep the items. All’s well that ends well, I guess.)

No Such Thing As Too Much Pizza, But We See Her Point

, , , , , | Working | February 12, 2019

(I place an order for pizza delivery, specifying the delivery time as 8:00 pm, two hours after the order is placed, so I can be sure that I have the kids in bed by the time the delivery arrives. I also leave a note making it super clear to come after 8:00 pm and to not knock on the front door but to call when the delivery was here. I’m in the middle of reading a bedtime story to my two-year-old at around 6:30 pm when there’s a loud bang at the door. I so hope it isn’t, but alas, it is the pizza guy.)

Delivery Man: “Order for [My Name].”

Me: “Yes, I did place an order… for an hour and a half from now.”

Delivery Man: “Yes, I am early for you. It is good, yes?”

Me: “No, not really. Sorry, but I ordered ahead on purpose because I’m in the middle of putting my kids to bed. I don’t really want this pizza right now; I wanted it after 8:00 pm.”

(I show him the note on the receipt asking them to please not show up early.)

Delivery Man: “I am early! Early is better! Not late!”

Me: *tired of the back and forth* “Okay, well, I’ll obviously take the pizza because I don’t want you to have to come back out again. Obviously, some wires got crossed somewhere. You have a good evening now!”

(I put the pizza in the oven to keep it warm and finish bedtime. I give the pizza place a quick call to explain what happened. I’m not trying to get anything free; I just like this particular pizza place so I would like this to not happen in the future. The owner is super apologetic, says they were busy and didn’t take the time to read a note, and he says the next time I order it’s on the house. I insist that isn’t necessary, just to check the notes when I order, please. I enjoy my pizza. Just as I finish eating, there is another loud knock at the door. It’s the same delivery guy.)

Delivery Man: “I have pizza for you; boss man said it’s on the house!”

(He has the exact same order again.)

Me: “Oh, I really don’t need another pizza! I’ve just finished eating the one you brought earlier. Thank you for coming out but I don’t want to take the pizza.”

Delivery Man: “No, no, it’s okay; boss man said it’s okay.”

Me: “Yeah, I understand, but I don’t need another pizza; I still have half a pizza. Honestly, it will just be too much pizza in the house.”

Delivery Man: “No, don’t worry! It’s okay! Boss man said it’s for you! It’s fine!”

Me: *exasperated, takes order* “Thank you. Have a good evening.”

(Why on earth would I want a duplicate order the exact same evening?)

Hopefully They Still Make Time For Second Breakfast

, , , , | Working | February 11, 2019

Me: “I think [Municipality] uses the Shire’s calendar.”

Boss: “A calendar from the Shire? What do you mean?”

Me: “The calendar used by the Hobbit-folk, you know.”

Boss: “Oh?”

Me: “Well, I mean… I don’t know any other calendar on which February has a 30th day.”

(And the people who dated at least two letters like that are supposed to be running a part of the country!)

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