I have been contracted for many years to make content updates to a Joomla website. This past week, this client had her “programmer”, who can’t be bothered to do updates, transfer this website over to WordPress. Other than a few minor changes in updating content, it was fairly seamless. This client also has me in charge of her Constant Contact eBlasts, which are scheduled ahead for several months and usually have up to ten scheduled at any one time.

One problem: all the files being moved from Joomla to WordPress meant that all the file locations of the images uploaded for the eBlasts had a different URL and all the URLs of the links were also changed. She emailed me all in a snit because the eBlast went out and the links and images were broken. I patiently explained to her that all the image locations were now different, as were the files in her website that the eBlasts were linked to, and that I would have to go in and recode all ten of the scheduled eBlasts so that the images would appear and the links would work. I did so and then invoiced her for my time.

She blew a gasket.

Client: “You must get my permission before making any extensive changes to my website!”

But I didn’t make any changes to her website. I never touched her website. She ragged on and on about her wonderful programmer and her wonderful new website (which is ugly as f***).

Client: “How dare you make any changes to my website like that without my permission?!”

I replied back in ALL CAPS, which I never do.

Me: “I ONLY UPDATED YOUR TEN BROKEN EBLASTS ON CONSTANT CONTACT.”

Now I regret being the nice person and being proactive to fix them all, even though I know she’d email me about every last one if they went out broken and throw me under the bus. Trust me, I’ve been under that bus with her so many times I could work on the transmission.

I explained yet again, as if to a very small child:

Me: “The changes I made were to the eBlast code in Constant Contact, which has nothing to do with your website.”

She spent four more emails ragging on, demanding that I ask permission, telling me she didn’t know anything about code (which is obvious), but how dare I change her website?!

I finally gave up. After all these years of working for her, the stupidity was just too much to deal with. (That and never being paid on time.)

I manage a vape shop and today a customer comes in wanting to return his mod.

Customer: “Hi, I bought this mod here and it won’t charge anymore.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you mind if I check it out real quick?”

This thing looked beat to h***. It was full of dents and the tank was cracked.

Me: “Okay, your charging port has loosened itself from the board. Unfortunately, we don’t do repairs, but if you have the receipt or the card you purchased it with, I can get you a refund or exchange if it was bought within the past month.”

Customer: “I don’t have the receipt, but I have the card.”

I run the card.

Me: “It looks like the only purchase made with this card was not for this item. Could it have been another card?”

Customer: “No, it was definitely that one.”

Me: “Unfortunately, it’s only showing one purchase and it isn’t the same item. Do you know when you purchased it?”

The main reason I ask that is that I realize we sold the last of those mods months ago and our return window ends after thirty days.

Customer: “No, I don’t remember.”

Me: “Okay, well, I’m really sorry, but I can’t refund or exchange anything without a receipt, and without an estimated time frame, I can’t go back and manually find it.”

Customer: “So, that’s it? I’m just stuck with it?”

Me: “I’m sorry, man. It’s company policy that we need a proof of purchase for any returns.”

Customer: “You can’t call a manager and ask them about it?”

Me: “I am the manager.”

Customer: “All right, well, you just lost a customer, then. Thanks, but no, thanks.”

Me: “Okay, have a nice night.”

Guess I’m about to lose my job and the business will go under because this guy isn’t coming back. I don’t know how I’m gonna sleep tonight, honestly.

I am an actor in a drive-through scare attraction. It’s like a classic haunted house attraction except that people drive instead of walking through. Various scenes play out and the scares get bigger as they reach the climax of the story.

When they first enter, they are given clear instructions: stop at the stop sign in each zone, only proceed when the light turns green, and drive no more than three miles per hour.

Most people can follow these simple instructions. Most.

As with most scare attractions, there is a combination of pre-recorded dialogue, sound effects, and spoken dialogue/scares. It’s important to keep traffic moving but also give cars the green light when it’s safe to move forward. Otherwise, we get cars backed up which hurts everyone’s experience and makes accidents more likely.

[Guest #1] drives into my scene. The track is playing with dialogue from the main protagonist and antagonist, and I’m waiting for my cue. [Guest #1] stares at me for a moment, completely ignoring the dialogue blasting into his car, before loudly saying, “I guess she isn’t going to wave us through,” and speeds off, nearly hitting the car ahead of him.

It’s almost as though I didn’t turn on your green light for a reason!

[Guest #2] stays for the entire scene. The jump scare happens and I, in character, yell at them to “Get outta here!” and hit the green light.

[Guest #2] just sits there. And sits there. Cars are now waiting behind her. She doesn’t even look at me: the green light is right in her face and she’s staring straight ahead. After an agonizing forty-five seconds, she finally remembers that green means go.

[Guest #3] comes rolling in. He and his buddies are having a blast — and not in a good way. They’re chattering so loudly that they nearly drown out the very loud audio track. They don’t stop at the stop sign at all, so I — in character — put my hand up and tell them to stop. They laugh at me and drive off at way more than three miles per hour… missing an entire jump scare and causing a backup.

A variation of these events happens every single night.

It never ceases to amaze me how people will pay up to $100 per car and then ruin their own experience. Or how many people can’t follow simple instructions. I guess they laugh and drive forward when crossing guards tell them to stop, too?

Not to mention the catcalling and heckling. I can’t imagine spending $100 just to harass people who are being paid to entertain you. And hecklers almost always miss out on the jump scares. Their loss!

I was working at the front desk of a hotel when a man approached me.

Man: “HEY! I want to know what I’m in trouble for!”

Me: “I’m not sure. Are you a guest here?”

Man: “No, I was here with my girlfriend yesterday and now I guess I’m in trouble. They said I damaged the room!”

Me: “They?”

Man: “[Guests in different room].”

I happened to know that the guests in the different room had paid for a room for some of their friends for a night on Saturday night, and those friends had gotten blood ALL OVER the room. Sheets, towels, and even on the wall.

Me: “Okay, yes. There was blood all over your room, and housekeeping found meth in the room.”

Man: “They planted that stuff there! That was just my girlfriend’s period blood, and they started cleaning the room before we even left.”

Me: “There was no one in the room when they started cleaning it.”

Man: “But our stuff was still there!”

Me: “Your drugs?”

Man: “Yes… NO!”

His friends had paid for the damage to the room, and I assume they went after him to get paid back for it and that’s what he was throwing a fit about.

I worked at a bank, and during a busy Friday, we had someone there to do repairs. The repairman needed one of us to sign a slip, so I called him up and signed it. The whole ordeal took maybe twenty seconds.

Next Person In Line: “Ugh, this is ridiculous. I wish I could skip the line!”

Me: “Well, if you want to repair our equipment, you’re more than welcome to skip the line when I sign off on your work. Otherwise, you can wait.”

He was silent after that.