Recently, I have been getting a lot of calls from telemarketers. This one has called me a total of four times, every time early in the morning.

I’m sleeping and my phone starts to vibrate on my nightstand.

Me: “[My Name].”

The telemarketer starts his spiel. I hang up and try going back to sleep. My phone starts vibrating and it’s the same number, so I answer with the intention of giving him a piece of my mind, but instead, the telemarketer manages to speak first.

Telemarketer: “Hello again. It seems we got disconnected—”

Me: “Actually, I hung up as I want to sleep. I don’t want your magazine; don’t call again!”

I hang up.

The next morning, a Friday, my phone wakes me up again. I try to answer, but the caller hangs up immediately. I forget the call for the time being.

On Monday, my phone vibrates again.

Me: “[My Name].”

The telemarketer starts his spiel once again, not even bothering to check who he’s talking to.

I start raising my voice with every word after the second “No,” as the first two have no effect.

Me: “No, No, NO, NO, NO! NO! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!”

The telemarketer speaks with the most irritatingly sneering tone I have ever heard.

Telemarketer: “There’s no need to yell.”

Me: “I wouldn’t have had to had you just listened to when I first said, ‘No!’”

I give him a piece of my mind, asking why he won’t just leave me alone already. He replies that I can always end the call myself; note that this is definitely the same guy that immediately called me back the first time I hung up on him.

Me: “…also I was sleeping and I want to get back to sleep as soon as possible!”

Telemarketer: “Well, that’s your own fault for keeping your phone on!”

Me: “I want to talk to your supervisor.”

Telemarketer: “I am alone here.”

Me: “I hear someone’s voice in the background.”

Telemarketer: “That’s my coworker.”

Me: “So, you are telling me that you and your coworkers are working without a supervisor?”

Telemarketer: “Yes.”

Me: “What’s your name?”

Telemarketer: “[Telemarketer].”

Me: “You’ll be hearing from me very soon.”

The telemarketers used to hide their caller IDs but have since stopped doing it as people stopped answering calls with the ID hidden, meaning I was able to track down the company’s contact info. I also realised he had called me a total of four times over the course of three consecutive banking days. I managed to figure out which branch he worked at, and I called the branch manager.

The manager was not pleased when I recounted the events, mentioning how I’d made it quite clear the first time around that I did not want them to call me again. By calling four times in three days, they were, in fact, harassing me.

This was over a month ago now and they haven’t called me again.

I’m working as a server for a caterer. We’re at a wedding that he’s catering and the band is playing painfully loudly. At one point during the reception, the caterer notices the father of the bride looking upset and goes over to check what the problem is.

Caterer: “Is something wrong, Mr. [Father]?”

Father: “Yes, I told the band when I booked them that I didn’t want loud music. I just asked them to turn the volume down and they refused. They won’t even listen to me.”

The caterer walks over to the band and unplugs the loudspeakers. The members of the band start to get verbally belligerent with him, but the caterer merely points to the father of the bride and starts to speak.

Caterer: “You see that man over there? He’s the one paying for your services tonight. If you want him to sign your cheque, then I suggest you do as he asks and turn the volume down.”

Point made. The band backed down, and the volume of the music was lowered, to the relief of the guests and workers alike.

At my workstation, the computer I am using is acting balky and sluggish when I try to process customer’s orders, so I try using a popular speed test website to test my connection. I am getting approximately 900kB down and 100kB up while all the terminals around me are getting a typical 5MB down and 640kB up. It’s clearly a connection problem, so I put in a trouble ticket to the people in IT.

The next morning, I come in and my computer is still sluggish, so I go to run a speed test and a message advises I do not have authorization to access that website. This time, I phone someone in IT.

Me: “Hi. I’ve reported a problem with my workstation computer and now I’m not able to access [website] to run a speed test. What’s wrong?”

IT: “One moment, I’ll check… Ah, yes, you don’t have authorization to access that website.”

Me: “Oh, really? I put in a trouble ticket explaining that there is something wrong with my connection and your department’s solution is to take away my ability to prove it’s broken? You will give me access to [website] again so I can prove to you there is a problem.”

IT: “I don’t have the authority to give you access to [website]; only a manager does.”

Me: “I don’t care. I am not letting this call go until I have access to [website] back.”

Disconnecting on an internal call can bring down real grief on whoever does it.

IT: “I’m going to call my supervisor.”

A few minutes later…

Supervisor: “I’ve been advised that you want access to [website]?”

Me: “Yes.”

I repeat what I told the IT tech.

Me: “Now, get my access back so I can prove my system is broken, and then you can get someone to fix it. I’ll wait.”

The supervisor authorizes me to have access to [website] again, and I run the speed test and give him the numbers.

Me: “Now that you have the information, do you mind getting someone to fix my system this time?”

Supervisor: “We’ll have someone look into it.”

Me: “Thank you.”

It turned out I had a bad port on the server and it had to be replaced. Afterward, my workstation performed normally.

I’m working in the drive-thru for a popular fast food chain around noon. Wasps have been flying around the window and I’ve managed to keep them at bay, but they must be attracted to the kitchen smells and they aren’t backing down. One manages to get in and I watch it land on a table behind me.

A customer pulls up a few seconds after the wasp flies in, and I’m a little tense because wasps spook me a little. I finish taking the order and turn around to confront the wasp, not realizing I have left my headset on.

Me: “Time to deal with this f****** wasp—”

I notice the green light on my headset.

Me: “Oh, shoot! Forgot to turn my headset off! Sorry!”

The customer, an elderly lady, shows up at the window a few cars later. I open my mouth to apologize but she cuts me off.

Customer: “Don’t worry about it. Nobody likes bees in their workspace, dear. You should probably keep a better eye on that on switch though!”

I finish cashing her out; all the while a wasp is buzzing around the window.

Customer: “I can see why you were so mad about it now! Well, you have a nice day, miss.”

Me: “As long as these wasps stop ‘bugging’ me, I will!”

Eventually, the wasps left, but I had to endure another two hours of the little terrors, which was no fun.

I’m getting tired of salesmen at my door trying to sell me yet another energy plan. I have put a sticker by my door saying, “To whoever rings this doorbell: if you are here to spread your faith, sell anything, or give advice about energy suppliers, we will charge you twenty-five euros per conversation to listen to your story. You are required to pay this sum in advance. By pressing this doorbell, you agree with the aforementioned terms.”

It’s sarcasm, of course, but most people get the message. Some keep on trying, though.

I’m on my computer in the room next to my front door. I see a salesman waving frantically at me through the window. I point toward the sign by my door, but he keeps waving. Frustrated, I go to open the door.

Me: “I know you are here to sell but I’m not buying. Didn’t you see the sign?”

Salesman: “No, I didn’t see any sign from way over there!”

He points two feet to the side, where he was standing as he was waving.

Salesman: “Besides, I didn’t actually ring the doorbell, so…”

He seems all proud of himself for discovering that loophole — how could he have known that without reading the sign, I wonder — and launches into his sales pitch.

Me: “Let me stop you right there. You are the fifth representative for energy suppliers I’ve had on my doorstep this month alone. I’m not interested.”

Salesman: “But we’re the cheapest!”

Me: “Yeah, so they all say. Now leave.”

The salesman death-glared at me, then sulked away, muttering under his breath.

I get that they have a job to do, but why they choose to be complete buffoons about it still baffles me.