When I was in college, I usually either rode my bike or walked across campus. One Saturday afternoon, I rode my bike to the lacrosse stadium to watch the game with some friends and chained the bike to a bike stand outside the stadium. A couple of hours later, I walked out of the stadium with my friends to go to dinner in the dining hall, completely forgetting that I had ridden my bike there.

In fact, I forgot my bike was there all weekend. Come Monday morning, I left my dorm to go to class, and I could not for the life of me figure out where my darn bike was. I checked all of the usual places and even started to wonder if it had been stolen. I walked to class all day, constantly baffled about where I had left the bike.

Mid-afternoon, I suddenly remembered that I might have left it at the lacrosse stadium. The stadium is a pretty far walk, though, and I wasn’t 100% sure it was there, and I didn’t want to walk that far only to find that wasn’t the location after all. I asked my roommate if I could borrow his bike to go find mine, and he agreed.

I rode my roommate’s bike to the stadium, and aha! There was my bike. Great. I started to walk both bikes back to my dorm, one in each hand.

I was nearly back at the dorm when a campus security officer pulled over his car and got out.

Officer: “You want to tell me why you have two bikes?”

Me: “Sure. This one is mine, and this one belongs to my roommate. I left mine at the stadium and rode his over there to go get it.”

The officer looked like he didn’t believe my story at all.

Officer: *Pointing to my bike* “So, if I were to check the registration on this bike, it would be registered to you.”

On my campus, you were supposed to register your bike through a campus security website, and they’d send you a little numbered sticker to put on it. Luckily, I’d actually done this.

Me: “Sure, yes.”

I handed him my ID and then waited while he radioed the number and my name to someone else. They had a brief conversation, and the voice on the radio confirmed that my bike was my bike. He then inspected [Roommate]’s bike, and sure enough, it had a little registration sticker, as well.

Officer: “And this other bike. Who is this one supposedly registered to?”

Me: “[Roommate].”

He radioed in my roommate’s bike registration number but started frowning. He put his hands on his hips and scowled.

Officer: “Actually, this bike is registered to a Mr. [Friend].”

That’s when I remembered where [Roommate] had gotten his bike in the first place. [Friend] had gotten a new bike and gave his old one to [Roommate].

Me: “Oh, that makes sense. [Friend] gave that bike to [Roommate] a few months ago when he got a new one. He probably just didn’t switch the registration.”

Officer: *Skeptical* “Uh-huh. And if I were to call [Friend], is that the story he’d tell me?”

Me: “Yes. Please, feel free to call him.”

This was in the days before cell phones, so [Officer] looked up the number of the dorm room and called [Friend]. The phone rang, but no one answered; [Friend] was probably in class.

Officer: “He’s not answering. I have no proof that your story is true.”

Me: “Then… call [Roommate]! He’s definitely in the dorm; I just came from there. He’ll tell you the same thing.”

Officer: “No! He could just say whatever you’ve told him to say!”

I’ve never understood that logic. [Friend] could adequately verify my story, but [Roommate] had to be in cahoots with me?

Officer: “I’m going to have to take this bicycle.”

Me: “What?”

He radioed again, this time requesting backup, which apparently meant a van that could fit the bike, plus three other campus security cars, because why not? He loaded the bike into the van and told me that only [Friend] could get the bike back, and to get it, he’d have to come to the campus security office very far away at some inconvenient time. Then, they all drove off.

I biked the short distance back to my dorm, locked my bike, and then went up to my room.

Roommate: “Well? Did you find your bike?”

Me: “So… the good news is I found my bike. The bad news is I lost yours.”

I told him the whole story, apologizing, and then we had to call [Friend] and apologize to him, as well, since he now had to go to recover the bike. The kicker: I mentioned to him that the situation sucks, but technically, he probably should have gone to the campus security website to transfer the bike registration to [Roommate] when he gave him the bike.

Friend: “I DID!”

My uncle is in town and wants to take my parents, my husband, and me out for dinner. I am the first one to arrive at the restaurant along with my three-month-old, who is in an infant car seat. The restaurant is currently pretty empty. 

Me: “Hi there. I am waiting for my family to join me, who should be here soon, but is it possible to be seated while we wait for them so I can feed my daughter?”

Hostess: “That’s fine. How many people total?”

Me: “Five adults and one infant. Can we also please have a booth so I can set her next to me?”

She doesn’t say anything but grabs five menus and tells me to follow her. She takes me to a small table for four.

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. Is it actually possible to get a booth?”

Hostess: “Why?”

Me: “I have four other adults joining us, and I would like a spot to set my daughter next to me.”

Hostess: “Can’t you just get another chair and set her on the ground?”

Me: “I’d really prefer not to.”

She stares at me for a while before saying that she’ll be back. She comes back with the manager.

Manager: “What seems to be the problem here?”

Hostess: “She’s unhappy with where I set her.”

Me: “I was just wondering if it’s possible to get a booth. There’s going to be a total of five adults, and I would like to set my daughter next to me rather than on the floor.”

Hostess: “I told her she could just get another chair.”

Manager: *Looks confused* “Yes, of course, you can have a booth. I apologize for the misunderstanding.”

Hostess: “But I told her she could just get another chair!”

The manager rubs the bridge of his nose and looks annoyed.

Manager: “Just go back to the front, [Hostess].”

During college, I have a part-time job at a daycare. My shift starts at 12:00 pm and work is usually about a thirty- to thirty-five-minute drive from where I live. It is 11:20 am and I am getting ready to head out when I get a call from the front desk.

Receptionist: “Hey, [Coworker #1] had a family emergency and had to leave. We’re short staff and [Coworker #2] and [Coworker #3] need to take their breaks. Can you come in at 11:30, instead?”

Me: “I’m actually just getting ready to leave, but since this is the normal time I leave, I won’t be there until probably 11:50 at the earliest.”

Receptionist: *Pauses* “Well, that doesn’t help us.”

Me: “I’m sorry? I live at least thirty minutes away from work. I won’t be able to get there any earlier.”

Receptionist: “Fine. Just get here as soon as you can.”

I luckily get mostly green lights on my drive, so I arrive at work at 11:45 am and clock in. When I get in, my coworkers look ticked.

Coworker #2: “You know, it’s highly inconvenient that you didn’t help us out and come in earlier. Now we’re late to take our breaks. Just remember this when you need a favor.”

Me: “Are you kidding me? [Receptionist] called me forty minutes before my shift started and my drive is usually at least thirty minutes, sometimes longer. I got here as soon as I could.”

Coworker #2: “Oh, I, uh… She didn’t tell me that. I just assumed you lived closer and refused to come in. Sorry.”

Later, my boss comes in asking to speak with me.

Boss: “[Receptionist] tells me that she called you to come in earlier for your shift when you were needed and you refused. That’s very unprofessional of you and I expect better next time.”

Me: “She called me at 11:20 asking me to be there at 11:30. I live thirty minutes away. There was no way I could get in any earlier. I got here at 11:45 am, earlier than I told her I would be, clocked in, and immediately went to the room afterward.”

Boss: *Pauses* “I’ll have a conversation with [Receptionist]. Sorry about that.”

Lots of things like this happened throughout my time working there. I didn’t stay much longer.

Related:
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 14
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 13
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 12
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 11
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 10

I’ve just finished helping two elderly women. They’ve both been very polite and pleasant to deal with throughout the entire transaction, other than being a little disappointed that we are sold out of Christmas stamps.

Me: “You two are all set! I hope you both have a wonderful day and enjoy your holiday season!”

[Woman #1] suddenly shoots me a death glare.

Woman #2: “Happy holidays to you as well, sweetie!”

They walk to the door; the rest of the conversation is between the two of them as they leave.

Woman #1: *Loudly* “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

Woman #2: “What?”

Woman #1: “It’s ‘MERRY CHRISTMAS,’ not ‘Happy Holidays’!”

Woman #2: “I said, ‘Merry Christmas.’”

Woman #1: “No! You said, ‘Happy Holidays,’ like a liberal hippie! It’s not ‘Happy Holidays’!”

Woman #2: “Well, I didn’t say, ‘Happy Holidays,’ now, did I?! I am not a liberal hippie! Do I look like a liberal hippie to you?! I only ever say, ‘Merry Christmas’!”

Their argument continued as they walked out the door and into the coffee shop next door. I can only hope, for the sake of the employees next door, that their argument ended quickly!

I took a tech support call. The woman started the call by informing me:

Customer: “I’ll have you know I’ve been working on computers for ten years! I am not going to be talked to like some child.”

“This is gonna go great,” I moaned internally.

Her computer was running slow. We ran through a few things.

Me: “Please shut down your PC and let me know when it’s off.”

About four seconds later:

Customer: “Okay, it’s off.”

Impossible.

Me: “Turn it on again and let me know when we get back to the desktop.”

Three seconds later:

Customer: “Okay, it’s back up.”

Me: “Ma’am, can you tell me exactly how you’re shutting down your computer?”

Here it comes…

She launches into a tirade about how she works on a computer every day at work and blah, blah, blah for about five minutes.

Me: “I understand, ma’am. I’m simply asking the steps to verify that you are taking the proper procedure for this computer.”

Customer: “Of course I am. I push the button on the computer.”

Me: “Is that the computer where you see the images or under your desk?”

Customer: “What do you mean? That’s a stupid question. The computer where the information comes up.”

I take a deep breath.

Me: “Ma’am, that’s not the computer. That’s your monitor.”

Customer: “What? You’re not making sense. That’s how we all shut down our computers at work.”

I explain that at work she doesn’t have a computer but a workstation on a network. I explain that turning off the monitor does not affect the PC at all. Then, I walk her through proper shutdown procedures, and we reboot her PC.

When it reboots, it installs several updates, including multiple driver updates.

Customer: “Hey! You fixed the colors!”

She never mentioned video issues.

Customer: “And it’s running smoother again!”