I am a fire marshal at my place of work. Essentially, it means I am responsible for ensuring that my assigned area is clear of people when the fire alarm sounds, and I am authorised to use a fire extinguisher and run the Health-And-Safety-mandated weekly test. Due to the others on site having more demanding roles, I usually run the weekly test.

To do the test, I have to call the service company to inform them I want a test state for our building (so the fire service is not dispatched), set the alarm board to avoid cutting off the gas, and announce on the PA system that we are in a fire alarm test. As there are many deaf and hearing-impaired staff on site, I also have to leave at least two minutes from the announcement until the alarm so that they can be updated.

On the morning of our story, I have been solidly at my desk for an hour and forty-five minutes, I have not announced anything, nor have I informed my colleagues that I am doing the test — something I make sure to do, so no one thinks I am shirking my regular tasks.

The alarm sounds out. It is loud, wailing, and accompanied by flashing lights — deaf colleagues, after all. Right away, I stand and tell my manager that this cannot be a test. She is a fire marshal also, as is my team lead. Two other staff in the office have already left for the safety point. The final one is still on the phone.

Me: “We need to leave the office now.”

[Colleague] continues to talk on the phone.

Me: “This is a real alarm. We have to go now.”

Manager: “[Colleague], end the call.”

[Colleague] carries on with a long “goodbye” to the caller and then stops to note who she was talking to and what record it was about.

Me: “This is a real alarm. There could be a fire in the building.”

Manager: “Out of the office. Now.”

[Colleague] stops to fetch a coat and scarf. It is early spring, but not cold enough to need that much.

Me: “[Colleague]! We have to go!!”

Colleague: “Oh, it isn’t a test? I thought you had to do those!”

I usher her out of the office.

Me: “I didn’t tell you I was doing a test, I didn’t announce it, and all six other people in this section evacuated. It is not a test.”

As it turned out, a large space heater placed on a desk — I work with some very… different… people — had triggered a smoke detector.

My colleague had a very stern talking-to from management and needed to sign an improvement notice over the incident. When a fire marshal tells you to get going, you get going!

I work at a cash register company, and I get it; cash registers aren’t something the average person knows that much about. Therefore, I am always super polite and try to help people. The thing is, we sell cash registers; we don’t make them. We also sell other Point-Of-Sale (POS) systems. We’re a retail store, not a manufacturer.

For some reason, when customers need help with their cash registers — any cash registers they bought from anywhere — they call us looking for help.

Customer: “Is this Sharp?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry, this is [Business], but we do sell Sharp cash registers. What do you need help with?”

Customer: “I can’t program this d*** thing.”

Me: “Did you purchase the register from us?”

Customer: “Well, it says Sharp on it, so yeah.”

Me: “We’re actually not Sharp, we’re [Business]. Do you remember the business you bought it from?”

Customer: “[Office Supply Store].”

Me: “Okay, I’m guessing you have a [model number]?”

Customer: “Yeah, something like that.”

Me: “Okay, that’s the model we don’t program, unfortunately. I can give you Sharp’s number.”

Customer: “What? I thought this was Sharp?”

Me: “No, this is [Business]. We’re not Sharp; we just sell their registers. Would you like Sharp’s number? They might be able to help.”

Customer: “I don’t get it; how can you not program a machine you sell?”

Me: “We actually don’t sell that machine; we sell all other models except for that one.”

Customer: “So, you’re telling me you just have no idea how to program a cash register that you make?”

Me: “We don’t make it; Sharp makes it. Would you like me to give you Sharp’s phone number?”

Customer: “This shouldn’t be so d*** hard! I bought this cash register, some website said I should call this number to get to Sharp, I called, and now you’re telling me you’re not even going to support your own products?!”

Me: “You actually don’t have one of our products; we’re not Sharp. We don’t sell that cash register.”

Customer: “So, you’re telling me that, after all this, you can’t even help me at all? There’s nobody there I can talk to to help me? Let me talk to someone else!”

Me: “There is nobody here who can help you. We do not sell that model of cash register. We know nothing about it. I’m sorry.”

Customer: “Your company is f****** useless. How would you feel if I called Sharp and told them how you’re treating your customers?”

Me: “You go ahead and do that.”

Customer: “I will! F****** useless! Never buying anything from you ever again!”

Me: “…You never have.”

I used to work as a supervisor at a department store in England before I got my current office-based job. It was a good move for me, and there were no hard feelings when I left; we even had a great leaving party, which is what makes this so bizarre.

I go back to the store occasionally to window shop and catch up with my old colleagues. This takes place eight months after I leave.

I’m talking with two of my former colleagues about random life things when a third comes up to us.

Coworker #3: “Hey, [My Name], haven’t seen you in ages! How’s things?”

Me: “Good, thanks! Been reading a few books lately.”

Coworker #3: “That’s nice. So, are you on holiday this week?”

Me: “No, why?”

Coworker #3: “Oh, day off? I feel like we haven’t worked together for months!”

[Coworker #1] and [Coworker #2] laugh.

Coworker #1: “I know, right?”

Coworker #3: “So, will you be giving out sales targets tomorrow, then?”

I realise she isn’t joking

Me: “I… got a new job?”

Coworker #3: “Oh, really? When are you going?”

Me: *Pauses* “Eight months ago.”

Coworker #3: “Really?”

Coworker #2: “You went to her leaving party!”

At that point, I just backed away and went to find some other people to talk to. But really, did I make so little impact that this colleague didn’t notice I was gone for eight months? Or was she really unobservant?

Related:
Mister Cellophane, The Early Years

A woman and her daughter come to check into their room at our hotel. The woman is immediately looking to be an issue, complaining about everything she possibly can. I give them their room key and send them on their way.

About a minute later, the phone rings, and it’s the woman calling from her room. She sounds livid.

Guest: “The air conditioning unit in my room is not working!”

Me: “Have you tried turning it on and changing the temperature to see if anything happens?”

Guest: “Of course, I tried that! Nothing happened!”

I go to her room, and within thirty seconds of being there, I locate the ON/OFF switch on the AC unit and flip it to ON. The unit turns on, surprise!

Thirty minutes later, I get another phone call. It’s her again.

Guest: *In a rage* “The DVD player isn’t working!”

I go to her room again and approach the DVD player. I find the ON/OFF button and turn the DVD player to ON. Voila! It works. Before leaving again, I turn to the lady.

Me: “Foiled by an ON/OFF switch two times in half an hour? This must not be your day.”

Her face started to get red, and I left before she could continue being a b**** to me.

I work at the deli counter of a grocery store, and today we are running a special on ribs. There is only one serving of ribs left on the display counter, and a gentleman comes by and asks for two. Coincidently, the other two servings in the oven have just finished cooking.

After I sell those, I see another gentleman angrily storm up to the counter. A younger coworker begins to serve him as he begins to talk/yell at her. I’m packing up the last serving of the ribs to put on the counter when he starts laying into me with his tragic tale of woe.

Customer: “Why don’t you have any more ribs?! They’re on special! You should have them!”

Me: “I just have this one special left, but you’re welcome to it. It’s the last one for a while. We have to go put some more in the oven to keep up.”

Customer: “Why don’t you have any more ribs?! This is unacceptable!”

Me: “Sir, I have some right here if you’d like them. If you want more than just one, it takes twenty minutes to cook. But like I said, I have one right here.”

I try to hand him the serving of ribs.

Customer: “I can’t believe you would have a special and just not have any!”

I see that I can’t get through to this guy.

Me: “All right, sir, have a good day.”

And I go back to work on other things.

After that, the customer storms off to the front where the cashiers are to complain. The cashier manager comes over to speak with me.

Manager: “Why don’t we have any more rib specials? Do we not have any in the back? Also, the customer complained that you spoke rudely to him.”

I walk around the counter and pick up the ribs that are still there.

Me: “We have one left, and I tried to tell him that, but he was more interested in being upset than actually getting the ribs.”

The cashier manager looks at the ribs and then at me, realizing there’s no way I can be at fault.

Manager: “Uh… Oh, okay, then.” *Pauses* “Don’t forget to speak politely to customers.” *Walks off*

Me: “O… kay…”