Bad Work Equals Bad Results. This Isn’t Hard.

, , , , , | Working | June 15, 2021

I work on a moving assembly line. It’s simple work, it’s boring, and the money isn’t great, but after working in so many companies that have fallen over, it gives me peace of mind to have security at work.

A job goes up on the board for more work but a bit more money. I talk with the manager and he lets me know that they are looking for people who want to “step up” and that this is a good way to show that.

I apply and get the job; I’m told no one else applied. I get on really well but get crap from some of the guys. One guy goes beyond banter and seems to have a real problem with me.

Me: “All right. You got your part tally sheets?”

Coworker: “What?”

Me: “The sheet you fill in to show how many parts you’ve done.”

Coworker: “I didn’t do it. If they want to know how many parts I make, they can come and count them.”

Me: “Err… okay.”

I mark “not done” on my sheet.

Coworker: “What? Are you going to run and tell them?”

Me: “Well, no, but I have to put something down or my numbers will be off.”

Coworker: “Little suck up, you’ve changed. You think yourself all high and mighty.”

Me: “I’m doing my job, mate. You don’t want to do yours? Fine. But I’m not getting crap because of it.”

He swears at me for a bit.

Coworker: “I could have done your job, but I’m not a suck-up, ratting people out.”

Me: “I thought it was because you could barely count without using your fingers.”

That wasn’t the smartest response but I felt good about it. I noticed he wasn’t in the rest of the week. Someone had heard him threatening me behind my back, so they called him into the office, where he threatened the manager, who sacked him.

I tried to go back to my old job, but they convinced me to stay. A year later, they said I had really shown extra effort and offered me another promotion. I never heard from [Coworker] again.

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Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

, , , , , | Working | June 11, 2021

I drop into a large chain coffee shop. I order a large coffee and something to eat and sit by the window to enjoy a bit of quiet. A couple of women come in, chat to the barista, look around, and motion in my direction. I assume they are picking out a table; instead, they all stand awkwardly together at the counter and the barista comes over.

Barista: “Sorry, but could you swap tables?”

Me: “I’m quite happy here. Why do I need to move?”

Barista: “We have other customers that need that table.”

The table is no bigger than any of the others, nor more accessible. There is one next to me exactly the same, but mine is the only one left by the window.

Me: “No, I don’t think I will… unless there is a good reason for it?”

Her face scrunches up and she marches to the back. She comes back quickly.

Barista: “I’ve spoken to the manager and he says you have to leave.”

Me: “Okay, but I want a refund.”

Barista: “I will put it in a to-go cup.”

Me: “I don’t want it to-go. Besides, I paid extra to sit in, so I want a full refund, please.”

Barista: “I can’t do that.”

Me: “But I’m sure your manager could.”

She went back to the group of women. There were some less than subtle remarks and they sat somewhere else. The manager never appeared. I can only assume that they were friends trying to bully others out of their favourite spot.

I drank my coffee in my own time and eventually left. I didn’t put in a complaint, but the barista wasn’t there a month or so later, so she probably managed to get herself fired all on her own.

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When Country Roads Aren’t Relaxing

, , , , , | Right | June 11, 2021

I work for a high street catalogue chain delivering goods that people have bought online.

It is the end of a long shift, and I am about forty-five minutes away from base in a speed-restricted van.

I set the last customer’s postcode into my GPS to locate the home and end up down a dusty farm track. I call the customer on the only number they have given me — a landline — asking for a call back when they don’t answer. I use my phone as a second GPS, which takes me to the main road; this takes me about ten miles out of my way. When I get off the main road, I call the customer again. Still no answer.

I head back down the side roads to the village they live in, in the hope I can find the road. I am in luck; I find the street, but the house has a name, not a number, so rather than find a number, I have to look at each home for a building name. No joy, so I call the customer, who does not answer.

I start door-knocking. This is about 9:30 on an evening so I understand why people are annoyed at being disturbed by me. When I find the property, the owner opens the door with a smile and his first words are:

Owner: “I saw you were trying to call our house, but we don’t have a house phone; we use mobiles. Why didn’t you call them?”

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The Sigh Of Relief Heard Around The World

, , , , , , | Romantic | June 10, 2021

I’m home from university during my first year. I’m out with some friends from my hometown, catching up over a few drinks. I get a text message from my girlfriend. I read the preview line of the message.

Preview: “Oh, my God, I think I’m pregnant…”

My heart stops, my blood runs cold, and the bottom drops out of my stomach. We’re both only eighteen and we have only been dating a month or two. Neither of us is in a position to be having a child. Not to mention, the few times we have been intimate, we’ve taken sufficient precautions, so the question of HOW this might have happened is also racing through my mind.

I open the conversation to read the rest of the message and begin to formulate a response. And then, I read the full text.

Message: “Oh, my God, I think I’m pregnant with an Indian Food Baby. I have eaten SO much curry! How’s your night going? xxx”

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Smiles For Miles!

, , , , , | Friendly | June 10, 2021

My wife and I race grass track sidecars in our spare time. We are getting our bike ready the morning of an event when we are approached by a man and woman with a child.

Man: “Hi. We don’t want to bother you, but would it be possible for our son to have a sit on your bike? He’s going through chemotherapy right now and could do with a smile.”

Me: “If I can get permission and it’s okay with you, I can do one better and have him come out with us on the parade lap if he wants?”

The boy’s eyes go as wide as dinner plates and his smile’s not much smaller as he looks at his parents expectedly.

Woman: “I think that’s a yes, then.” *Laughs*

I went to check that it was okay with the right people and came back with the good news. I also told them I’d arranged a surprise during the presentations afterward. They thanked me and left until it was time for the parade lap. When it came to the presentations, the boy was asked to come up onto the podium and help hand out the trophies, prize money, etc.

I often see the family when we are at events in the area and the boy is now all clear and healthy.

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