You’re Only Getting Gravel For Christmas

, , , , , , | Working | December 24, 2019

My parents live in a very rural area, with gravel roads and long distances between houses. The advent of online ordering has been a godsend for them as they get older, as having items delivered is much easier than making the trip all the way into town.

However, shortly before Christmas last year, their deliveries from a specific delivery company stopped arriving. They had three different packages which were all marked as delivered, but never actually arrived. They called around to the company, and they got assurance that the boxes had been left on their porch, and the suggestion was made that maybe someone walked off with them. Not helpful.

Then, the next day, a man drove up with a pickup truck and knocked on the door. He introduced himself as the son of the couple who used to live at the house at the end of the gravel road leading up to my parent’s place, and he had all three packages with him. 

It turns out, he had been stopping by their house to get it cleaned up to sell after his parents moved in with him, and he had found a massive pile of boxes stacked up on the porch of the house, several of them with damage from the snow that had fallen. They were for addresses all down the road, and so he was going down to drop them off.

My parents were more confused than angry, but they called into the delivery company to let them know what had happened. The person on the other end was very rude, accusing them of prank calling, as apparently, several other families had phoned in, as well. Dad got angry at that and got in his truck to drive to the location in the nearest city to give them a piece of his mind. In a frankly magical coincidence, he got to the end of the street right as a delivery driver from that company was walking up to the house at the end of the street, with an armful of packages. He quickly pulled over and got out of the truck, calling out to the driver.

The delivery driver looked over at him and ran forward, dropping a couple of boxes into the snow, before dumping the entire stack onto the porch. My dad hurried forward, but the delivery driver dodged around him, ran back to his truck, and pulled out down the main street. My dad was dumbfounded at that point and ended up heading into the city as he’d planned.

It turns out that a couple of the other neighbors had the same idea, as he ran into them in the lobby of the delivery company. The person behind the counter apparently looked pretty intimidated from all of them pressing for answers. Eventually, a manager was called, and then a higher manager, before they got the whole story.

It turns out, the delivery driver my dad had seen was new, and apparently was “nervous” about driving on gravel roads. Rather than getting a different job or requesting a different route, he decided to just dump all of the packages on the first house of each gravel road. When the higher manager called him to get his side of the story, his excuse was apparently that they’d all know each other anyway, so they could handle handing the packages out.

My parents and I assume he got fired after that, as package deliveries resumed normally after that, and they’ve never had a problem since then with packages being dumped at someone else’s house.

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Unfiltered Story #180420

, , | Unfiltered | December 24, 2019

(I’m working the drive-thru taking money when my coworker is assigned to take orders for me during a rush. We’re both wearing headsets even though I really didn’t need one, but boy was I glad I kept mine on.)
Customer: Can I get two spicy chicken sandwiches?
Coworker: Two?
Customer: Spicy chicken.
Coworker: Yes?
Customer: Yes.

(The customer then proceeded to drive around to the window and pay)

Even Crazier That He Is Jack The Ripper

, , , , , | Friendly | December 18, 2019

(My friend and I like watching classic movies. This time we’re watching “12 Angry Men.” There’s a scene where Juror #2 has a monologue. He’s a tiny, meek, bald guy with glasses and a distinctly high, squeaky voice.)

Me: “Do you recognize that voice?”

Friend: “Uh… no?”

Me: “Well, you should. That’s Piglet from Winnie the Pooh.

(I then watch in amusement as it takes a couple of seconds for the voice to register in his head, and then his eyes bug out and his jaw drops.)

Friend: “Oh… my… God!”

Me: *laughing* “Yeah, have fun trying not to think about that every time he speaks now.”

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The Only Thing Blaring Is The Neighbor

, , , , , | Learning | December 8, 2019

(It is my first semester of freshman year. I live in a first-year dorm, but it is apartment-style, meaning the door from the hallway opens to a living room and kitchen and there is another door leading to my bedroom. During finals week, “24-hour quiet hours” are enforced, basically meaning that you’re not allowed to blast music or TV loud enough to be heard in the hallway or other rooms. I don’t have any finals, so I am laying in my bedroom with both doors shut watching TV when someone starts pounding on my door.)

Neighbor: “Open up!”

(I look through the peephole and recognize her as my neighbor from across the hall, so I open the door.)

Me: “What’s up?”

Neighbor: “I can’t focus with your music blaring like that!”

Me: “Um, I’m not playing music.”

Neighbor: “Don’t lie! I hear it right now!”

(Standing at the hallway door with my bedroom door open, I can just barely hear my TV playing.)

Me: “Oh, my TV? Sorry, I didn’t think it was that loud. I can turn it down some.” 

Neighbor: “You’d better!”

(She stomps off and I think that is the end of it. Fifteen minutes later:)

Resident Authority: “Campus housing!”

(I open the door, and my neighbor has brought our RA to my apartment.)

Me: “Can I help you?”

Resident Authority: “Do you know about the 24-hour quiet hours going on right now?”

Me: “Yes, that’s why I’m watching TV with my bedroom door shut. Could you hear it from the hall?”

Resident Authority: “Was it playing?”

Me: “Um, yes. It’s still playing right now.”

(He pauses and listens.)

Resident Authority: “I can barely hear that.” *turns to neighbor* “Is this really what you bothered me about?”

Neighbor: “I’m trying to study for finals! I can’t focus with her TV blaring!”

Resident Authority: “I have finals, too! And I can’t focus with people knocking on my door making fake complaints! If it really bothers you that bad, campus housing gave you earplugs at the beginning of the year. Dig those out.”

Me: “So, am I good?”

Resident Authority: “Yep, have a good week, and watch TV all you want.”

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Unfiltered Story #162112

, , , | Unfiltered | December 2, 2019

Man: “Do you take a credit card.”

Me: “No, sorry, I don’t have that capability. We’re cash only.”

Man: *blank stare, tries to hand me his credit card*

Me: “Sorry, I can’t accept that.”

Man: “It’s a Visa card. It’s accepted everywhere.”

Me: “I don’t have a machine to run it through, as we’re cash only.”

(The man continues to stare at me for an uncomfortably long time, still holding out his card, then he finally wanders away.)