On The Fence About The Club Presidency

, , , , , , | Learning | March 24, 2020

This happened in fencing club at our boarding school. We’re rather laid-back and relaxed, but at some point, another school challenged us to a match, which required us to send a student representative with the coach to help settle the details. So, the coach brought it up in a fencing lesson, stating that he needed someone to become the “club president” and help him with the details.

Our boarding school has a quirk where we call the Year Twelves “Juniors” and the Year Thirteens “Seniors.”

Someone proposed that there be an election, which prompted me to cast my vote for my enthusiastic junior. But that idea was shot down as the strongest fencer in the group decided that we should have a tournament with the club captainship as the prize, which was an even more popular idea.

Then, just when we were putting on our gear and preparing for the tournament, one of my fellow seniors argued that as we seniors were preparing to go to university, club captainship should fall to us as we needed it more on our personal statements than the juniors did. They could have their turn as club captain next year, when they themselves became seniors.

Somehow, they convinced the coach, mostly because other clubs in school had a similar precedent. I wasn’t very happy with the decision, as I considered it childish and the two seniors vying for the club captain position were basically people who joined the club at the same time as the juniors. In fact, they never even held a sword until they joined the club, unlike half of the juniors, who were veteran fencers in their previous schools. They just wanted the position to burnish their personal statements and make themselves more attractive to universities.

Regardless, the coach did not seem to notice that those two were blatantly after the position for selfish reasons and named the only other senior in the club president: me. 

He was backed unanimously by the juniors, leaving the two other seniors stunned. They then tried to argue against my appointment, but the coach shot them down. I was the last member of last year’s team, the oldest and seniormost student and the one with the most attendance, and although I wasn’t the best fencer, I was the only veteran fencer among the three seniors.

I didn’t really want the position, but I could not deny being greatly amused at the way my fellow seniors’ faces fell. Still, I offered the two of them the opportunity to claim club captainship in a mini-tournament between the three of us. Two easy victories later and I was crowned club captain. Somehow they never really came back to the club during my captainship.

The coach used a balloon sword he picked up from a fencing shop to “knight” me and offered it to me as my “sword of office.” After I stepped down as captain after the year, I was allowed to keep the sword as a farewell gift.

According to my juniors, it has now become a tradition for the coach to “knight” new club captains with such balloon swords and that they’re allowed to keep the blade after they retire.

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A Great Model To Keep Up With

, , , , | Learning | March 23, 2020

(This happened to my sister who runs a dance studio that also offers aerobics, Zumba, and other workout classes. One of her longtime clients and friends is a model who tends to draw attention to herself due to her oversized breast implants. This happens when my sister is teaching a Tae Bo class which is about half first-timers. Ten minutes before class starts:)

New Girl #1: *points to the model* “Hey, slut, this isn’t the strippercise class. This is for people who actually want to exercise.”

Model: “I know what class this is; I signed up because it compliments my boxing lessons.”

New Girl #2: *sarcastically* “Sure, whatever you say. Just don’t complain if you get tired and can’t keep up; you look like you’re carrying a bit of extra weight.”

(The model just stares at them quietly. According to my sister, variants of this joke have been levied at said model at least a dozen times before.)

Sister: “All right, girls, let’s get to it! First break isn’t for forty-five minutes.”

(Both new girls are absolutely exhausted by break time; neither one of them looks like they can even stand.) 

Model: *feigning worry* “Oh, dear! You seem beat. But how can that possibly be?! I mean, I’m carrying so much more extra weight and I still feel fine.”

(Both girls just glowered at her and tried to get up to finish the class. They lasted about ten minutes into the second half before they finally couldn’t take it and ducked out early.)

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The Glaring Is Not Coming From The Lenses

, , , , | Right | March 23, 2020

(I am taking a passport photo for a lady.)

Me: “Can you please remove your glasses?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “I don’t have to take off my glasses. It’s not the law.”

Me: “We prefer if you take your glasses off for passport photos.”

Customer: “I looked it up before I came and you don’t have to take your glasses off!”

Me: “You’re right, you don’t have to. But if there is any glare at all on your lenses, your photo will get rejected, and you will have to pay for us to take it again. It’s very difficult to take a photo with a flash without getting any glare, so if you leave them on, your photo will probably get rejected.”

(The customer took her glasses off without saying anything.)

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Carting Around That Insult All Day

, , , , , | Working | March 22, 2020

(I work as a bagger at a supermarket but will often be given other jobs to do, such as helping customers out to their vehicles and collecting store baskets and putting them in the lobby. Often, I will be given a cart full of discarded groceries that need to go back on the proper shelves. Whenever I’m doing the latter, it only takes me thirty minutes to an hour to put the discarded items back on the shelves. When I’m done and head back up to the front of the store, a female coworker always makes a smart-a** remark about how I’m doing nothing but pushing an empty cart around all day. Thanks to her, a male coworker eventually begins making the same accusation. One day, after punching back in from my break, the male coworker pushes an empty cart in my direction.)

Male Coworker: “Here, [My Name], here’s an empty cart for you to push around all day.”

Me: “Yeah, but unlike your head, that cart won’t stay empty.”

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Sounds Like They Got Their Sodium Lauryl Sulfates In A Twist

, , , , , | Right | March 22, 2020

(It’s early morning on my birthday. My coworkers have decorated my cubicle and brought me gifts. I’m feeling chipper and optimistic. I take my first call.)

Me: “[Business], this is [My Name]; how may I help you?”

Customer: “Hi, is your shampoo color-safe?”

Me: “Yes. In fact, it contains ingredients that are intended to help protect and preserve the life of your color.”

Customer: “But it contains sulfates, which cause fading.”

Me: “Our cleansers do contain sulfates, which have been used in shampoos widely and safely for decades. It will not fade your color. Our Anti-Color-Fade complex also helps with that.”

Customer: “But you just said there were ingredients that helped preserve your color. What are they?”

Me: “There are botanicals and our Anti-Color-Fade Complex in the shampoo, which help protect artificial color in the hair.”

Customer: “You’re not listening to me. I said, ‘What ingredients protect color?’. You’re not making yourself sound very credible, [My Name].”

(Shampoo ingredients are almost exclusively chemical, and have names that I, let alone a customer, wouldn’t understand. Every other customer I’ve ever spoken to has found my previous answer sufficient, so this accusation catches me off guard.)

Me: “Umm… I don’t know the exact ingredients. They have chemical names.”

Customer: “So, you won’t tell me.”

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t tell you because I don’t know.”

Customer: “Well, you know what, [My Name]? I think you need an attitude adjustment. You’ve been very snotty with me. I asked a simple question you are obviously too lazy or stupid to answer. I am a paying customer of your products, and I don’t need this behavior from you!”

(Looking around at my birthday presents and smiling coworkers, I just sort of break down.)

Me: “You know what? I don’t need it from you, either!”

Customer: “I’d like to speak to your manager!”

Me: “Absolutely!”

(I have just enough breath to tell my supervisor what happened before bursting into tears.)

Supervisor: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer: “That last girl I spoke to was so rude! I don’t know if she’s on drugs or if she’s just a brat, but she clearly isn’t suited to be answering customer questions! She needs to get off the phone and come back once she learns some manners!”

Supervisor: “Ma’am, I overheard your conversation and [My Name] was more than polite and helpful, right up until you personally attacked her. You should also know she is my friendliest employee, and you were her first call of the day, which happens to be her birthday. Now, would you like me to answer your original question, or would you like to berate me, as well?”

(The customer sheepishly repeated her question, my supervisor answered her in the exact same manner I did, and the customer hung up without saying thank you!)

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