Right Working Romantic Related Learning Friendly Healthy Legal Inspirational Unfiltered

Take Your Watermark And Lo-Go Away

, , , | Working | June 20, 2022

My business is in need of a logo, so I reach out to an artist online to make a design for us. We come to an agreement, and they get to work. As is typical for art commissions like this, they provide us with an example image of the final product that has a large watermark across the image, ensuring that we can see what the final product looks like while also preventing us from stealing the image.

Everything looks good, so we send the final payment, and they send us the finished image. Except, rather than removing the watermark like the contract we signed with them specified, they have instead changed the text of the watermark to their signature.

We reach out to them.

Me: “Hi. So, the image looks good, but I think when you went to remove the watermark, you just changed the text, instead. Could you send us the final image without the watermark?”

Artist: “I sign all my work.”

Me: “Okay. That is not what was agreed upon in the contract we signed. We need the logo to look like the specifications, without additions like this watermark.”

Artist: “I sign all my work.”

That is the only response they give to any follow-ups before they just stop responding when we try to get a refund. In the end, we contact another artist, explain the situation, and provide the “signed” image to them as part of their specs, and they are able to recreate the basic image without the watermark. We pay them and use that logo.

Nine months after this whole debacle, we get an email from the original artist.

Artist: “You have been using my creative property without permission. This is an official cease-and-desist notice. Legal action will be taken if you do not properly cite my works.”

We considered engaging, but in the end, we decided to just ignore it. It has been five years since then, we are still using the logo, and we haven’t heard a peep of any “legal action” from us not using the “signed” logo.

Do I Look Like The Kind Of Bartender Who Cares?

, , , , | Right | June 20, 2022

The golf club where I work is hosting a dinner dance for a local businessman, with lots of very well-off guests.

A man comes to the bar and orders a fairly large round of drinks. His total comes to about £100.

I tell him the price, and his demeanour flips from cordial to furious.

Guest: “£100?! Do I look like I can afford to buy £100 worth of drinks, huh, fella?”

I give him a once-over, taking in his midwinter tan, designer suit, expensive watch, and gold jewellery, not to mention his wallet that is on the bar in front of him with half a dozen £50 notes visible.

Me: “Er, yeah. You do.”

He locks eyes with me for about five seconds, then his angry expression splits into an enormous grin, and he bursts out laughing.

Guest: “Well played, fella, well played!”

He hands me a credit card and pays for his drinks.

Guest: “I’m sorry for messing with you at first. That was mean of me. Here, this is for you guys behind the bar; you’re doing great!”

He then handed me three of those aforementioned £50 notes, gave me the double finger guns, and headed off with his drinks.

Refuse To Dig Nails Into That Complaint

, , , , , | Right | June 20, 2022

A client brings their three-year-old German Shepherd to have his nails done. After they have checked in, the client takes a flea preventative out of her bag. She bought three individual pieces when she actually wanted the entire six-pack. Whether this was our error or the client’s error is unknown because she bought this two months ago and we would have deleted the voicemail request.

We aren’t allowed to return medication that has gone home. My supervisor is trying to work with her, but the lady is being unreasonable.

Supervisor: “Why did you wait two months to tell us that you got the wrong amount?”

Client: “I didn’t realize until now!”

Individual pieces come in a small clear plastic bag; six-packs come in a box. The price between the two sizes is noticeable.

Client: “This is your fault and I demand you refund me!”

Supervisor: “I’m sorry, but we are unable to refund you. Legally, we are not allowed to accept returns for medications that have been taken home, let alone medications that we were sold months ago.”

Client: “This is ridiculous! I demand a refund!”

Supervisor: “I’m sorry, but as I said, ma’am, I legally cannot refund you. I can put a note in your dog’s chart that the next time you request the flea preventative you want the six-pack, but that’s all I can do for you.”

The client and the supervisor continue to have a back and forth, with my very experienced supervisor remaining calm and polite while the client begins to get shrill and rude. The technicians have not grabbed the dog yet because they don’t want to interrupt the conversation, but it has already been at least five minutes and if we wait any longer, it might put us behind.

Finally, a technician comes up to the lady and gently interrupts.

Technician: “Hi! I’m here to take your dog back for his nail trim!”

The lady begrudgingly hands the dog off to the tech, and once the dog is behind a closed door — standard practice for nail trims; we do them in the back — she yells:

Client: “I bet that you people are going to hurt my dog and trim his nails really short to hurt him because you think I was rude to you!”

The dead silence that follows her statement is met only by the cold fury that my supervisor projects. In a clipped tone, my supervisor says:

Supervisor: “Ma’am. We are professionals. We would never do anything like that. For you to assume that we would hurt your dog in retaliation for your attitude is unbelievable. That is incredibly disrespectful, and if you ever say anything like that to us again, I will bar you from this clinic.”

The lady huffs and sits down without saying another word. The rest of the clients in the waiting room avoid her gaze. After the techs are done with the dog (with a proper and professional nail trim that results in no bleeding ends), the client pays us and walks out with a grumbled:

Client: “Sorry, thanks.”

You aren’t in the vet practice because you love money or people; you are there because you love animals! Show some kindness and understanding, especially when it comes to anyone in a clinic!

Oooh, That Feels GOOD

, , , | Right | CREDIT: Ok-Fox-8931 | June 19, 2022

When I’m nineteen, I am a hostess in a large chain of Mexican restaurants. I’ve hosted before at another restaurant, so I know what I’m doing, and how to (generally) handle customers who are being rude.

It’s a Sunday. It’s lunchtime. There’s an NFL game on TV, and the TVs are only in the bar. We are on a wait of fifteen to thirty minutes. The lobby is full and so is the atrium. We’ve been asking people to wait either outside or in their cars, taking phone numbers to call people back.

In walks a woman with her son, who is probably no older than sixteen. All goes well until I ask the woman for her phone number.

Woman: “Why do you need that? It’s private information!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s very crowded in here. We need you to wait outside or in your car. The number is so I can call you when a table opens up.”

Woman: “Well, I’m parked in a disabled spot. I need my husband to help me back out.”

I nod, and before I get the number, she walks away — to the bar. Her husband walks in, and the woman flags him down, shoots me the smuggest look, and says:

Woman: “Take us off the list; we’re sitting at the bar!”

I live in a state where there are two places in a bar: the cocktail area (kid-friendly) and the actual bar (not kid-friendly). The woman and her family are sitting in the bar, not the cocktail area. So, my petty self gets the bartender.

Me: “Hey, see that lady over there? She was terribly rude — and her son is definitely underage. Could you… could you card him?”

Bartender: *With a grin* “Oh, yes, absolutely. I can do that.”

A few minutes later, the woman shrieks:


Bartender: *Calmly* “There is cocktail seating for families with kids.”

Woman: “But there’s no room!

Bartender: “Then you’ll have to go to the hostess and get on the list.

The woman stomps over to me.

Woman: “It’s been fifteen minutes. Get me a table!”

I have the pleasure of smiling at her and saying in my most pleasant customer service voice:

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but since you asked to be removed, you’re no longer on the list! It’ll be thirty minutes. Can I get a name and a phone number?”

The look of rage on her face fueled me all day as she stomped out, husband and son in tow.

No One’s Too OLED For Video Games!

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: Syntendo1 | June 19, 2022

I ordered an OLED Switch from the website of a major electronics chain, and I went to pick it up in the store.

While I was buying it, a woman’s child saw it and started whining about it. The woman offered to pay me the base cost for it. I’m not above a bit of scalping if the price is right, but it wasn’t.

Woman: “A grown-a** man like you shouldn’t be playing video games!”

Me: “Well, this grown-a** man is going to go play Pokemon on his new OLED Switch.”

She fumed and tried to snatch my bag, not realizing it was one of those anti-theft ones with metal handles to prevent that exact act. She lost the tug of war and tried to leave, but she got stopped by security.

I was asked if I wanted to press charges. I did.