Truck Drivers Are Happy To Have You On The Team(ster)

, , , , , | | Working | July 14, 2019

(I am a twenty-something blonde woman. I take my car to a small chain brake repair shop to get my rear brakes done. I cross the road and kill a few hours at the mall before I wander back, only to find my car still up on the lift.)

Worker: “Oh, there you are. Yeah. Your whole brake system is shot. We have to replace everything.”

Me: “What? No, you don’t. Just replace the rear brake pads!”

Worker: “Nope. Can’t do that. It’s not road safe. We have to do the work here and now as we can’t let that car on the road in this condition.”

Me: “How much?”

Worker: “$2,500.”

(I lose it, yelling and demanding and threatening, but he stands there unmoved. I then pull out my phone, and he asks dismissively:)

Worker: “You calling the cops?”

Me: “No. I’m calling a Teamster.”

(It isn’t a threat; I just want some advice from a good friend who is a driver, but the man’s face changes instantly.)

Worker: “Wait. What?”

(I don’t understand the fear in his eyes, but I go with it.)

Me: “Yeah. Looks like I need some help here.”

Worker: “I’ll get your keys.”

(He goes in the back and has my car lowered and pulled out of the garage by a coworker as he returns.)

Me: “No rush anymore. They’re almost here.”

(That wasn’t true. I’d actually never even dialed once I saw the fear in the man’s eyes, but I was MAD! I went out and hopped in my car. They hadn’t done any work — which I’m relieved about — so I screeched out of there and headed to a more reputable shop. I wish I’d reported them, but it never occurred to me at the time. The whole chain went under a few years later, though.)

Not Too Chicken To Make Yourself Known

, , , , | | Working | July 12, 2019

(I have been a supervisor at a theater, but I am starting a job at a chicken chain known for excellent customer service. It is my last day at the theater, and as a way of saying goodbye, I have brought a tray of chicken strips from my new job. This chicken chain is still relatively new to our state and is quite new to our area, so many of my coworkers have never tasted it before. My boss takes a few strips and goes to sit down. A minute later, he bellows my name from halfway across the lobby. He doesn’t usually use that tone of voice unless he urgently needs my help, so I hurry over to see what he needs.)

Boss: “This chicken is amazing! This is the best employee-quitting ever!”

(It was one of the highlights of my last shift there, and I’m still laughing about it.)

This Order Is Deceased

, , , , , | | Working | July 12, 2019

(I work in a funeral home so I deal with the flower shops pretty regularly. We are the only funeral home in town and there are only three flower shops, but we only have problems with this specific one, for some reason. That being said, it takes at most ten minutes to get from one side of town to the other, so, at most, it should take ten minutes to get from this flower shop to the funeral home if they manage to hit every single red light. According to my boss, this flower shop had called the day before asking when to bring the flowers over. It has ALWAYS been no later than an hour before. A coworker had answered and stressed that the flowers be at the funeral home no later than 9:30 for the service at 10:30, which my boss had heard her say. It is 9:45 and the flowers haven’t shown up. I give them a call.)

Employee: “[Flower Shop], this is [Employee].”

Me: “Hey, [Employee]! This is [My Name] with the funeral home. I was wondering when you would be here with the flowers for [Deceased]’s service?”

Employee: “Oh! They left about fifteen minutes ago, so they should be there in a few minutes.”

Me: “All righty, then. Thanks.”

(It seems weird that they were leaving at the time they had been told to bring the flowers, and that it is going to take them TWENTY MINUTES to get here. I let my boss know, since the family has started trickling in. She’s, of course, ticked. Thirty minutes later, however, the flowers still aren’t here. I go call them again since the service is starting in fifteen minutes and I need to let them know to take the flowers to the reception instead of the funeral home.)

Employee: “[Flower Shop].”

Me: “Hi, it’s me again with the funeral home. We still haven’t gotten the flowers yet for [Deceased]’s service.”

Employee: “What? We don’t have any flowers for any services this week. Haven’t gotten any requests.”

Me: “What? I just called you a half-hour ago and you said you were on your way.”

Employee: “Let me check.”

(I can hear the conversation in the background, saying there haven’t been any flower requests for that service.)

Employee: “Sorry, we don’t have any flowers for [Deceased].”

Me: “Okay, then. Thanks.”

(I went back and let my boss know. We are still all confused as to why the flower shop had called to ask about delivering flowers and told us they were on their way if they didn’t have anything for it.)

Their Brain Is Toast

, , , | | Working | July 11, 2019

(We are sitting having breakfast when we overhear a waitress taking orders from the table next to ours.)

Customer: “Could I get brown toast with that?”

Waitress: *not ironically* “We only have white, but it looks brown when it’s toasted!”

Trying To Get A Foot In On That Sale

, , , , , | | Working | July 11, 2019

(My friend and I are returning from a food court in a shopping mall when we get caught by one of those very aggressive lotion and cosmetic kiosk salesmen. I am one of those people who can’t seem to ignore them if I hear they’re speaking to me.)

Creepy Salesman: “Try this lotion on your hands, ladies? It will make your skin irresistibly soft!”

Me: “No, thank you; I don’t like anyone touching my hands.”

(We both continue walking away from him.)

Creepy Salesman: *calling at us loudly over the crowd* “Well, how about your feet?!”

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