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A Well-Serviced Car Is A Happy Car

, , , | Working | July 21, 2021

It’s been a while since I took my car for its regular service. I’ve been to the dealership for many years and they do this job for me on a regular basis, so my cars have always lasted a long time. I ring them.

Me: “I’d like to bring my car in for its full annual service.”

Employee: “Are you sure? Do you do a lot of miles in it?”

Me: “Not a colossal mileage. I just like to make sure it’s serviced regularly.”

Employee: “Are you sure you want the full service? From my records, you had the interim service done last [nine months ago].”

Me: “Yes, please.”

Employee: “But I’m not sure the car needs it. Surely you could get away with not servicing it so often?”

Me: “I’ve found that if I get it done regularly, at the times when the manufacturer recommends, it saves me money in the long run because then I don’t have any problems.”

Employee: “Well, if you’re sure… but if it were me, I’d leave it until I needed it.”

Me: “Please, can you book it in for its annual service as I asked?”

Employee: “Well, okay, but—”

Me: “Do you have a slot available?”

Employee: “Yes, we do, but I’m telling you—”

Me: “Sorry, but I really would prefer to get my car in for its annual service. Please, would you do that for me?”

Employee: “It will cost you [some modest amount that is well within my budget]. Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes, please. I am sure this is what I want.”

And finally, I was able to persuade her to let me book my car in for its annual regular service.

Time Management Is Hard

, , , , | Working | July 21, 2021

Normally, production will make the parts and then give them to me to sign off on. Far too many times, I’ve had parts that take two days to check and only get them a day before they are needed.

When our managers look for who is to blame, they say that the parts are with me, and I look bad. Even if I explain, the damage is done and I end up running around trying to clear the parts as fast as I can without making a massive mistake.

Not this time, though. I’ve been coming in early before production gets there and checking what I can on the parts before they release them. It’s been working well, and I manage to get most of it done without them even knowing.

As the deadline looms, production is late (again) and I’m getting ready to receive the parts. The production manager brings them to me.

Production Manager: “Now, these are really important to [Customer]. Please get on with checking these as we don’t want you delaying things like last time.”

I bite my tongue.

Me: “Don’t worry, this shouldn’t take long.”

I notice that something doesn’t look right with a bit that I couldn’t check earlier.

Me: “Hang on. Yeah, this is wrong. Look, this is way out. You should just take it back and redo it.”

Production Manager: “What? Let me see.”

I showed him the part and the drawing and let him check himself. He could tell it is way out of spec. It had to go back to production for two more days, making it late. I made sure to let our bosses know that I was actually way ahead and who was holding us up. The production manager didn’t say a word.

Hold Onto Those Books, And Your Job, Part 2

, , , , , , | Working | July 17, 2021

I’m the submitter of this story and I thought some folks might enjoy a couple more examples of how lazy this librarian was.

He didn’t like fiction or religious books and would do anything to avoid adding them unless forced. He only liked to add books on subjects he enjoyed, even if they didn’t circulate well. He especially hated romance novels. I kept telling him that, as a public library, we can’t just stock what we like and it has to be well-rounded, but he wouldn’t listen. I complained to the manager at the time and she tried to say that he doesn’t have as much control over the collection as he claims.

Patrons would complain about how we weren’t adding a lot of new fiction — only what headquarters would send, nothing extra like other libraries do — and especially how we didn’t have any new romance novels. I’d tell them to tell the librarian as I wasn’t in charge of purchasing, but he’d pretend to not get these requests, even if he was standing next to me as they complained and begged for new fiction books. His excuse was always, “Well, they didn’t tell ME!”

Finally, I went behind his back and contacted someone I knew at HQ who was an expert in romance novels and which ones to buy, especially when we got multiple requests for ones that had main characters that weren’t white. She sent five bags of romance novels to our branch.

The librarian intercepted these bags and stuck them in what we came to call “the closet of no return.” It’s where he’d stick anything he didn’t want to put out until it was in there so long he could secretly discard it — mostly donations, even if the item was brand new and in demand.

The manager at the time finally started catching onto what he was doing. When he didn’t add the romance novels, despite being asked about it repeatedly, she waited until he was on vacation. Then, she grabbed all the bags and we all worked together to get them into the computers and on the shelves before he returned. When he saw all those brand new romances where there had just been a few tattered ones before, his face became white and tight with barely-suppressed rage. But he couldn’t say anything.

After that manager retired and we got the one he became BFFs with, he got worse with his laziness. He and the manager would stay all day in the office together with the door shut, doing no real work. Neither would come out except for bathroom breaks and lunch until the manager’s husband came to pick her up.

One time when the manager wasn’t there and he was in charge, he tried to force me to throw out a woman with a service dog. I kept telling him that, since he was in charge, he needed to go up and ask her, “What is your dog trained to do?” as that’s all you’re legally allowed to ask. He refused, so I went to do it, reported that it was a service dog and that we couldn’t throw her out just because he didn’t like dogs. Later, the manager told me I should’ve thrown her out, anyway, “because he told you to.”

He would give his work to the library assistant without telling her what it was he wanted her to do, i.e. handing her a list of books checked out to repair that were massively overdue by several months and just saying, “Look for these.” Instead of looking on the repair shelf to see if they were there, she was looking on the shelves. I was the one who had to inform her what the list was for, and I ended up being yelled at by my supervisor at the time for “telling someone higher up than you what to do,” though she calmed down when I told her what had really happened.

He also didn’t want to evaluate books for possible discard. At the time, I wasn’t allowed to discard a book, even if it was sopping wet and growing mold. I had to check it out to repair, write a note as to what was wrong, and hand it to him. Books that had split down the middle, pages falling out, torn-out pages, etc. — he would just check them back in and stick them on the shelf without even looking at them because he didn’t want to be bothered. I finally had to start getting tricky with him. I’d take the falling-out pages and rubberband them to the outside of the book, put the checkout slips into the split spine in such a way that they curled and tucked behind where the pages were supposed to be attached to the spine, etc. It was the only way I could get him to take the two seconds it would take to just discard the darn things.

As the lead adult librarian, he was supposed to arrange for programs for adults. For a while, he would just bring in the same old guitar player all the time until patrons started to complain. The guy wasn’t that good of a singer and it was boring having the same program over and over again. So, he finally started doing other programs, except he wouldn’t advertise them properly such as having them put into the website calendar, making fliers on time, etc. Each program he did he just advertised less and less until he was basically not advertising them at all. Then, because he had several programs in a row fail due to his lack of work, he claimed that “No adults want programming” and used his laziness as an excuse to stop having adult programs. Even when people begged him to do something, his excuse was, “No one ever shows up for them.” He never would admit it was his fault for not advertising them. 

Again, we all would’ve loved to see him get fired because his laziness made work harder on the rest of us, from having to pick up his slack to patrons complaining to us because of choices he made. But the manager at that time before his transfer was, like I said, his BFF, and again, our union sucks. They pretty much are only about raising our dues so they can give themselves raises and not about protecting workers. Going to Human Resources wouldn’t get any results, either, so we just had to put up with it until he was transferred.

Related:
Hold Onto Those Books, And Your Job

Some People Really Aren’t Meant For Customer Service

, , , , , , | Working | July 16, 2021

I have been working in customer service for years. I always try my best to help customers and manage to stay calm whenever customers start their verbal abuse. Even though the job is for minimum wage, I really want to help people out and do the best I can, so when I need to call customer service myself for any reason, I make sure to give the same respect to the customer service representative as I would like to receive myself.

One day at work during my lunch break, I decide to get a ten-euro bill from the ATM around the corner in order to buy lunch from the cafeteria. I insert my card and enter my PIN, but then I notice something strange. There is some weird, putty-like stuff on the buttons of the PIN pad that shows my fingerprints, making my pin combination obviously visible. The bill doesn’t come out at first, and after some careful investigation, I notice there is tape holding back the bill. I manage to remove the tape and retrieve the bill. I try to remove the putty-like stuff but can’t, so I just press every button multiple times so my combination isn’t visible anymore. At this point, I am really worried I am being scammed.

When I return to the office, I don’t know what to do. One of my coworkers advises me to call both my bank and the police, just to be sure. She offers to call the police for me while I call my bank in order to save time, as the company is very strict about lunchtime and I only have about ten minutes of lunchtime left.

After giving my details to the representative, the following conversation happens.

Me: “Hi, I was just calling because I’m afraid I’ve been scammed, and I don’t know what to do. Do you have any advice? Should I get my debit card blocked?”

Representative: “Scamming doesn’t happen in the Netherlands; that only happens abroad.”

Me: *Pauses* “I… No, I really think I’ve been scammed. There was this weird stuff on the ATM and I—”

Representative: “Really? Girl, please. Like I said, scamming doesn’t happen over here.”

Me: “Well, I’m afraid that I’ve been scammed. If I have been scammed, is there something I can do about it?”

Representative: *Sigh*If you’ve been scammed — but you haven’t — we could block your debit card and send you a new one. There are other ways to make sure you don’t lose any money, but I’m not going to explain them as you have not been scammed!”

Me: “I just want to make sure no one can scam me, ma’am. I honestly, really think I’ve been scammed. My coworker is calling the police right now.”

The bank representative responds in the most sarcastic, snide tone.

Representative: “Well, I just looked at your account balance and there’s not much to be scammed out of there, so I wouldn’t worry!” *Snickers*

I am lost for words. I almost start to explain that I get paid tomorrow and I’m afraid that money will be stolen, but the representative won’t let me get a word in.

Representative: “But hey, don’t worry, girl! I blocked your debit card, so now the bad guys don’t get to steal the whole seven euros left on your account. Your new pass should arrive within a couple of days, if you can wait that long.” *Laughs*

Me: “But I didn’t ask for—”

Representative: “Goodbye!” *Hangs up*

I just stare at my phone. I can’t understand how someone could be that nasty. My coworker returns a couple of minutes later and tells me how her call with the police went.

Coworker: “Well, the police said it’s good I called them because a couple of people got scammed at that precise ATM these last couple of weeks. They will send a patrol car to check it out, and they said it was a really good idea to get your card blocked; otherwise, you’ll probably get scammed, as well. How did your call go?”

I decided not to file a complaint against the bank representative at the time because she “might just have had a bad day,” which still irks me to this day. Looking back at the situation, I absolutely should have filed a complaint about her looking at my balance and blocking my debit card without my permission, for her tone and remarks, and for her weird stance and wrongful information about scamming. Fortunately, I did not lose any money and received my new debit card within two days, so at least that went well.

You Really Managed The Heck Out Of That One, Manager

, , , | Working | July 14, 2021

I work in an office where about five out of ten people are in at a given time. I have a manager who enjoys doing none of the work but taking all the credit. This happens the day before my “work wife’s” birthday.

Manager: “What are we doing for [Work Wife]’s Birthday? I was thinking about getting her my favorite dessert.”

Me: “[Coworker #1] and I got her a tea set with some tea. I also got her [her favorite dessert] and we are going to buy her lunch from [Pizza Place] per her request.”

Manager: “Okay!”

That night, I place the food order making sure there is enough food for all of us, even texting a few people to confirm that they are coming in. Everyone is coming in because we all adore [Work Wife]. The food is set to arrive at noon. The next day, the manager comes down surprised to see we have other coworkers in the office.

Manager: *To [Work Wife]* “So, we are getting you pizza from [Other Pizza Place], huh?”

We exchange glances in case I messed up where I was supposed to get it from. I didn’t.

Me: “No. We are getting it from [Pizza Place]. It comes at noon.”

Manager: “Okay. Cool. Call me when it comes down.”

She leaves and I get this text message.

Manager: “Did you order enough food for everyone? I didn’t know [Coworker #2] and [Coworker #3] were here.”

Wonderful concerned question, right? Until noon hits…

Manager: “I am so glad I reminded you to get enough food for everyone! If you hadn’t ordered this extra pizza, there wouldn’t have been enough food!”

She prattled on about how much planning she’d put into it. Yes. That is exactly how it would’ve gone down. Without you, I would’ve let the interns watch us eat pizza. Being a jerk and all that.