[Coworker #1] is a bit deaf but won’t admit it. Everyone else is wrong, whispering, or “doesn’t know how to talk properly.” It’s not really a problem, but it can be a nightmare if you have to work with him, as you end up having to yell the whole time. Ironically, he can’t hear the background noise so he doesn’t talk nearly loud enough.

Management has offered him free hearing tests, and he would qualify for free hearing aids, but they can’t force him.

One day, I get to work, arriving late after a booked appointment.

Me: “What’s everyone doing outside?”

Coworker #2: “Fire. Sounds like a small one, but we’ve been evacuated.”

Me: “Okay. I’d better let them know I’m here and let [Coworker #1] know; he is probably trying to get me reported for being late.”

I find my boss and let him know I’m here. After a while, I go back to find him again.

Me: “Is [Coworker #1] working today?”

Boss: “Yes, I saw him earlier.”

Me: “Well, he isn’t anywhere; I can’t find him.”

Boss: “Oh, s***.”

He went to let one of the fire marshalls know, who let the firemen know. It turned out that [Coworker #1] couldn’t hear the ear-piercing siren and didn’t notice that no one else was around. He was at his station working away!

After that, the company forced him to get his ears tested and he was given hearing aids. Suddenly, [Coworker #1] could hear us properly again, even though he swears the hearing aids don’t do anything.

I work in a call centre handling small travel insurance claims. If a policyholder has a claim for a small amount — under around £100 — they can call us to log the details over the phone and send in any evidence by post, and we then assess the claim and write out with our decision and a cheque for any amounts due. This is my first “proper” job; I’m pretty green and generally wouldn’t say boo to a goose.

An older gentleman calls in to register his claim. While on holiday in Spain, his dentures broke, and he wants to claim back the cost of having them fixed. It should be a simple call, but he decides to be one of THOSE sorts when assisted by a young, shy female.

Caller: “You’re going too slow!”

Caller: “You’re not talking clearly enough!”

He even deliberately uses big, obscure words and then says:

Caller:  “I bet you don’t even know what that word means, do you?”

I got through the call, remaining super polite, and asked him to send in his receipts so we could process the claim.

I picked up the case when it arrived and assessed the situation and receipts against his policy. He was claiming for the equivalent of about £33 and his policy had an excess of £30. Oh… this was going to be fun. I ran up a cheque for something like £3.26 and dispatched it to the customer, along with the standard letter telling him his claim had been settled in full.

Sure enough, just a few days later, I was told that a very angry man wanted to talk to me. I took the call and he began ranting and yelling down the phone at me about this insulting amount he had been paid. Twenty years later, it still makes me smile to remember bringing this stuck-up old windbag down a few pegs.

My girlfriend comes home to find me setting up a pair of surround sound speakers.

Girlfriend: “Are these new?”

Me: “Yeah, they are the ones I told you I was getting.”

Girlfriend: “They look expensive.”

Me: “They were a bit, but I’ve been putting money away.”

Girlfriend: “Well, if you have all this money, you can treat me.”

Me: “Wait, no. I saved up while you spent your money on yourself. I suggested you start a savings account, but you didn’t want to.”

Girlfriend: “You have savings and you are going to just spend it on yourself?”

Me: “Yes.”

Girlfriend: “Well, maybe I will do the same!”

Me: “You do already. You spend every paycheck on clothes and shoes. I told you that you should have at least some savings. What happens if your car breaks down?”

Girlfriend: “I’ll just use yours.”

Me: *Pauses* “I’m not sure you’re getting this whole equal relationship thing.”

I guess that was the beginning of the end. We never moved past the “what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is also mine” thing. It didn’t last long.

We follow an older couple into a café. They breeze by the hand sanitizer without using it and stand way too close to the person in front of them in the queue. They pick up every single (identical) packed sandwich, and eventually, they pay and sit at the biggest table for just the two of them.

The man starts picking his nose and the woman coughs a smoker’s cough, not even covering her mouth.

Woman: “Did you see? They only had half the menu! When is all this [health crisis, mispronounced] stuff going to go away?”

Not for some time, it seems!

I’m at a cafe. I get my food and I take a bite, and it’s definitely not right.

Me: “Sorry, but this isn’t right. Could I send this back?”

Waitress: “You don’t like it?”

Me: “I don’t know what it is but it’s not what I ordered. What I wanted was—”

She takes the plate without letting me finish and comes back suspiciously quickly. I open the sandwich and it has the same filling, and then I realise it’s the same sandwich. They cut off where I bit it and put it on a fresh plate!

I head up to the counter. The waitress sees me coming and disappears to the back, leaving me with the cashier.

Me: “I was served the wrong sandwich. They took it back and gave me my old one back.”

Cashier: *With attitude* “I’m sorry, sir, but if you don’t like what you ordered, you can order something else, but you will have to pay for it.”

Me: “I ordered a cheese salad; this is some sort of meat. Now are you going to sort this out or not?”

Cashier: “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. They told me— It doesn’t matter. Yes, I’ll get them to sort it out for you.”

Me: “Actually, you know what? I don’t think I trust them. Could I get a refund, please? And the name of a manager. “

I did get the refund and made a complaint, but I never got so much as an acknowledgment. Good job I didn’t have an allergy or restrictive diet! I’ve chosen another place to eat from now on.