There Is No Model Response To This

, , , | Right | December 9, 2020

Customer: “Do you have the cartridge for my printer?”

Me: “Probably. Can you give me your printer model so I can check?”

Customer: “No. My printer doesn’t have a model.”

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Flatmates Like This Make Me Sick

, , , , , | Friendly | December 7, 2020

I’m a university student sharing an apartment with two other people. Despite the health emergency, my flatmates have decided to keep inviting people over for the night, albeit at specific four-person schedules. Aside from not being too keen on their behaviour right now, I usually don’t mind it too much, as we eat at different times and they take care of aerating places and wiping things down after all is said and done.

I go to bed rather early on a night when someone’s been invited over. The morning after, as I wake up, I feel something blocking me from rolling over. Startled, I look to my side and see a person curled up next to me.

Me: “Holy f***, who the h*** are you?” 

I hear a groan.

Girl: “Don’t be so loud. I have a headache.”

Me: “I’m going to give you more than a headache if you don’t get off the bed!”

The girl groans again as she slowly sits up and massages her head. At this point, a foul smell hits me, so I crane my neck over to the other side and see there’s a puddle of vomit on the floor and some of it splashed on my sports clothing.

Me: “That’s nasty.”

Girl: “Look, man, I was drunk, and now I’m hungover. Just let me get out of here. I need to get back home before my parents rip off my arms.”

Me: “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me who you are and who let you in my room, and you help me clean up.”

She sighs and gives out a pained moan.

Girl: “Ugh, and here I thought you were chiller than this. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to [Bad Flatmate].”

My eyes go wide open. I get up, put on my slippers, and furiously bang on [Bad Flatmate]’s door.

Bad Flatmate: “Jesus f***, mate, calm down. What’s the deal with you?!”

Me: “What’s my deal? What’s your deal?! Why is there a girl in my bed and why did you let her in?”

Bad Flatmate: *Annoyed, opening the door* “Because she came here by car and was drunk. We didn’t have enough room in the living room, so we figured you wouldn’t mind if—”

Me: “When did I say you could enter my room to give a bed to random people?!”

Bad Flatmate: “What, did you want to have a dead girl on your conscience? She couldn’t drive!”

Me: *Gritting my teeth* “You shouldn’t bring people home to hold parties, yet here we are, with a hungover girl that shouldn’t be here vomiting on my clothes while sleeping in my bed, when I didn’t ask or explicitly allow it, because of you, you f****** moron.”

Bad Flatmate: “You’re a little b****, you know that? Y’know what, fine. I’ll help you clean up if that’ll shut you up.”

By the time he agreed to help me clean, the girl was already gone. I think I’m going to need to invest in a new lock.

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Working With Some People Is A Curse

, , , , , , | Working | November 26, 2020

I’m on a work trip with a coworker. He’s reportedly a good fellow but has a few quirks. I prefer not to be confrontational, especially at the start of a week-long project in which we’ll spend fourteen hours a day together.

While driving, my coworker starts faking an accent from the deepest suburbs of the capital city.

Coworker: “Hey, what the f*** you doing? F***, what?! Stay on your own side, you f***er! What the f*** are you breaking for? Who the f*** gave you a licence? Oi, you’re f****** dead ones!”

The traffic is heavy but none of the other drivers is behaving especially badly, yet he goes on and on with this monologue. I’m not a prude, but the fake, rude accent and the gratuitous vulgarity start grating on my nerves after a while, so I put on my earbuds until we arrive.

Later, as we’re setting up, I realize that the piece of equipment we’re supposed to be working on has been extensively and severely damaged by whoever worked on it before us.

Me: “Oh, God d—”

Coworker: *Brusquely* “[My Name], don’t swear.”

I was speechless.

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Unmasking A Loophole

, , , , | Working | November 23, 2020

My friend works as a bartender in Italy. Her town just instituted a new decree mandating all businesses close at midnight to help stop the outbreak. So, her boss shuts the bar at midnight as ordered, waits fifteen minutes, and then reopens.

Some police immediately come to shut him down and fine him. He pulls out a copy of the decree and points:

Boss: “It says that I had to close at midnight. But it doesn’t say when I can reopen my shop.”

The police agreed that he was operating within the constraints of the decree, so they stayed open until dawn.

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Communication And Camaraderie

, , , , | Working | October 30, 2020

I overhear the following conversation between two workers: one is an old-timer that nobody gets along with, and the other is a newly-hired temp whose contract is about to expire. He has already politely inquired with the offices whether the company is extending his term or letting him go, to no avail.

New Hire: “Has anyone had any idea of where I’m assigned as of next week? 

Old-Timer: *Chuckling* “Why do you bother asking? The company isn’t hiring indeterminate contracts anymore!”

New Hire: “If you were the last one, I see why they wouldn’t.”

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