Buy Me A Burger And Kiss Me!

, , , , , | Right | January 13, 2019

(My godmother was from Sweden and while her English was quite good, she sometimes stumbled over pronunciations. One story she liked to tell was when she stopped in Kissimmee while traveling through Florida. While at the counter of a fast food restaurant she decides to try asking about the name.)

Godmother: “How do you pronounce the name of this place? Please say it slowly so I can get it.”

Fast Food Worker: “Bur-Ger King.”

Godmother: *laughs* “Okay, that is what I asked.”

A Hurricane Of Extra Charges

, , , , , | Working | January 13, 2019

(I go online to make my cell phone payment. When I go to submit the payment, it takes way too long to process, but it shows the payment made. The next day I check my bank statement to reconcile my checkbook and see that the cell phone company processed my payment SIX TIMES. Thankfully, none other of my automatic payments have gone through yet, or it would have sent my account into the negative by several hundreds of dollars. I immediately call the cell phone customer service line, and after forty-five minutes on hold, I finally get someone and explain the situation.)

Rep: “Okay, yes, I do see where that happened. There must have been a glitch in the system. I will submit this to the department that handles this and they will refund the money.”

Me: “Great. How long will that take? I have bills that will be coming through.”

Rep: “It will take about six to nine weeks. Then they—“

Me: “WHAT?! No, I can’t wait that long. I have to have that money back now.”

Rep: “Well, I am sorry, sir. It will take six to nine weeks.”

Me: “No, that is not acceptable. Get me a supervisor, now. Please.”

Rep: “They will just tell you the same thing. You will be on hold for a while. You will get your money back; it will just take some time. You need to be patient.”

Me: “Listen. I am glad you have over $500 extra lying around. I don’t. I have to have that to pay bills. I can’t wait over a month for it.”

Rep: “Could you borrow it from a friend?”

Me: *stunned* “Get me a supervisor, now.”

(I wait another hour. Finally, I get one and explain to them that their online payment messed up.)

Supervisor: “It takes the department that handles this six to nine weeks to do all the research and make sure that your complaint is valid. But I am looking at this, and I don’t see it as a problem. I know it’s terribly inconvenient, sir, but please be patient.”

Me: “No, it is more than inconvenient. The bill was for $100. You took out $600. Now, my bank account will bounce and my bills will go unpaid because, unlike you, apparently, I don’t have that kind of money lying around so I don’t have to worry and be patient. I will come after your company for all of the bounced check fees, plus I will come after you for all the fees I will have to pay to reconnect my electric and water because I do not have the money to pay the bills now. Or, I can just call my bank and report the charges as fraudulent. Your choice.”

(I think the severity of my situation finally dawns on him.)

Supervisor: “Oh, I didn’t understand that. I thought it was just a double payment. I didn’t see where it was six times. Crap. Okay, I have to put you on hold for a minute.”

(After another thirty minutes.)

Supervisor: “Okay, sir, I am sorry for the hold. I took a chance and called our main office; surprisingly, someone was there. We are working on fixing this now.”

Me: “Forgive me for asking, but why would it be surprising? It’s 10:00 am.”

Supervisor: “Oh, our main calling center is in Florida.” *there is a major hurricane roaring through the state* “And all of the service rep calls have been forwarded to this office. The truth of the matter is…”

Me: “None of you are trained or have the authority to fix any problems.”

Supervisor: “You got it.”

Me: “I bet you are getting some mad customers.”

Supervisor: “You don’t know the half of it. But honestly, yours is the only problem that has come through that really could not have waited until next week when they think the call center will be back up and running.”

(He gave me his direct line and told me to call him back if the money wasn’t back by the next morning and if anything bounced. I checked that evening and everything was returned. I understand a company having issues due to a natural disaster, but what good does it do sending your customers to reps that aren’t trained to fix problems?)

Just A Spoonful Of Forcefulness Makes The Medicine Go Down

, , , , | Healthy | January 13, 2019

(I am seventeen years old and visiting a doctor with my dad concerning my severe anxiety problems. My dad has resisted taking me to see any therapy or psychiatry specialists for a long time, but has finally relented after realizing the issues I’ve been having aren’t just “hormones.” To my knowledge, this isn’t at a psychiatrist’s office, but a regular doctor — I think for insurance purposes. The first visit results in an anti-depressant medication for some reason. This first medication makes me less anxious but also causes me to sleep upwards of FIFTEEN HOURS a day, and I am incoherent and running into things, falling over, etc., within twenty minutes of taking it each day. I even have difficulty getting up out of a chair to walk the ten feet to my bed after taking it. I remember falling constantly and being hazy. The second visit results in a different medication that doesn’t have any noticeable effect, and also no real side effects, either. This third visit is the check-in to see how the [second medication] was working.)

Me: “I don’t know that these are working properly. I don’t feel anything different. I’m still anxious all the time.”

Doctor: “So. This medication isn’t working. Why are you depressed? Your mother — she loves you? Your father loves you? Think of happy things.”

Me: “Um. I’m not depressed. I have anxiety problems with insomnia and persistent heart palpitations.”

Doctor: “Okay, so, this medicine isn’t working. We’ll switch back to [first medicine]. [First medicine] worked.”

Me: “It… didn’t work, though. I wasn’t anxious because I was really sedated. I was sleeping almost the entire day and night.”

Doctor: “Yes. So, first medicine worked. Here’s a prescription.”

Me: “I’m not taking that again. It was awful.”

Doctor: “It worked. You will take [first medicine] again.”

Me: “No.”

(The doctor then ignores me completely and turns to my dad, instead.)

Doctor: *oddly firm and creepy* “The [first medicine] worked. She will take it.”

Dad: *pause* “Yeah, okay. Give me the script.”

(My dad took the script and we trashed it when we got to the car. It had gotten to the point where my dad was concerned the doctor was going to claim parental negligence and call CPS on him if he agreed with me! We never went back to that doctor again, and I’ve since had a lot of traditional therapy and am doing much better. Did I mention that doctor owned the pharmacy attached to his office? Shocker.)

Exploding Over Turkeys Happens Outside The Holidays

, , , , , | Right | January 10, 2019

(I work in a bakery at a chain grocery store, but I am also cross-trained in the deli department, which is connected to the bakery. We just hired some new people, and I am scheduled to work in the bakery at the same time as a trainee is working in the deli by herself. The manager asks me if I can keep an eye on her in case she needs help, and I happily agree. It’s also important to note that we just switched some of our deli meat brands and flavors after we finished training our new employees, so some of the meats that we had when she first started training we either no longer carry or we carry it in a different brand. I’m working in my department when I hear this:)

Coworker: “Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you with something?”

Customer: “I would like some oven-roasted turkey.”

Coworker: “Okay. Would you like [Brand #1] or [Brand #2]?”

(Somehow, this question sets him off. He turns red in the face and starts yelling at my poor coworker.)

Customer: “You are so incompetent! Do you not know what you are doing? How hard is it to slice some meat?!”

(He goes on, and my coworker is too shocked to say anything. I step in to see if I can defuse the situation.)

Me: “[Coworker], are you okay?”

Coworker: “I just asked what brand he wanted because I couldn’t remember if we had the same flavor in another brand…”

Me: *to the man, as sweet and cheery as I can be* “Can I help you with something, sir?”

Customer: “NO! This entire store is filled with incompetent people! I just asked for some meat and she can’t slice it for me? How hard can it be to slice some meat?! I just want some meat!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. We are currently switching our brands, and my coworker was confused about which brand of turkey you wanted, Did you want [Brand #1] or did you want [Brand #2]?”

Customer: *throwing a temper tantrum at this point* “I just want some meat! How hard is that?! You are all incompetent, and I will never shop here again! I’m about to leave and I will never come back!”

(I can deal with rude customers, but at some point, a switch just goes off in me, and I’ll be d***ed if I’ll let a customer talk about my coworkers like this. However, instead of blowing up at rude customers, I have a different tactic.)

Me: *with a sweet, peppy smile* “All right, sir! Well, you have a good day! Thank you for shopping at [Grocery Store Chain].”

(The man looks like he is about to lay an egg — just totally shocked. He shakes out of it, and angrily grabs his cart and goes to check out.)

Me: *to coworker* “You okay?”

Coworker: “Yeah… I just asked him a question.”

Me: “Don’t worry about it. Some people are just jerks.”

(I went back to my work and our shifts continued normally. He must have had a bad day, because there is no way that turkey is so important that you have to have a meltdown in the middle of the store over it. That employee left a couple months later; most people don’t stay too long. I still work here, but I graduate school soon, so hopefully, I will never have to deal with rude customers like him again! If I do have a rude customer, I just kill them with kindness.)

Textbook Case Of Creepiness

, , , , , , , | Related | January 10, 2019

(My older brother and I have a typical brother-sister relationship, though most everyone I meet says we’re way closer than a lot of siblings. One day, my cousin, who lives nearby and has always been best friends with my brother, comes over. They’re both three years older, and we all live at our homes. My girlfriend comes over, too.)

Brother: “[My Name]! [Girlfriend] is here!”

Me: “Thanks!”

(My cousin walks into the room just as I greet my girlfriend, and we move to go upstairs.)

Cousin: “Hey, what’s a pretty girl like you doing holding those textbooks? Let [My Name] carry them!” *laughs, grinning at my girlfriend and my brother*

Brother: “Actually, you should let me carry them.”

(I’m shocked because it sounds like my brother is flirting with her, and I thought he would never do that.)

Girlfriend: “No. I’ve got them, thank you very much.”

(She sneers, though I know she’s scared, because my brother is probably a foot taller than us, and my cousin isn’t much smaller.)

Brother: “Please, just one?”

(He winks at me, where my cousin can’t see, and I nod to my girlfriend. My brother takes the books and whirls around, hitting my cousin in the head.)

Me: “[Brother]!”

Brother: “Leave. Now.”

Cousin: “What the f***, man?

Brother: “You’ve always been a creep, and I put up with it when it was about porn stars and s***, but my sister’s girlfriend? No way! Get the f*** out of my house and don’t come back!”

Cousin: “You’re a [LGBT slur], [My Name]? No wonder you’re so ugly! I—“

Brother: “SHUT. THE. F***. UP! NOW!”

(My brother throws the book on the floor, and grabs my cousin’s hair, which is past his ears.)

Brother: “[My Name], door!”

(I scrambled over the railing, dropped a foot to the floor, and ran to open the door. My brother pulled our cousin along and threw him outside. I moved to slam the door, but my cousin grabbed my arm and started screaming cuss words. He tried to yank me outside, but my brother punched him in the face, and as soon as our cousin let go of me, slammed the door closed, locking it. Obviously, we didn’t drive him home, and things were a bit tense at Christmas.)

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