Needs To Be Tutored In The Art Of Giving A D*mn

, , , , | Learning | June 12, 2017

(I work as a freelance math tutor. One day, I meet my client for an appointment and have the following exchange:)

Me: “I see you’re going to [Local Community College]. Which class are you taking?”

Student: “I don’t know.”

Me: *assuming maybe he forgot the name of the class* “Ok, do you have the book?”

Student: “No.”

Me: “Well then, do you happen to have the syllabus?”

Student: “No.”

Me: “Then why did you set up this appointment?”

Student: “No, that was my uncle.”

(I just left at that point.)

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Don’t Even Starch With Me

, , , | Working | June 11, 2017

(Our office recently switched from Styrofoam to packaging material made out of starch. Even though it looks much like Styrofoam, it’s edible. Also, while the working atmosphere here is generally good, there is one rather lazy woman that has it in for a tomboy who — justifiably — prides herself on her very strong work ethic. In fact, she’s constantly trying to badmouth her.)

Lazy Coworker: “Yesterday I was on my way to meet some friends so I drove by the office and guess who still was here at 8:30 pm. Right, [Hard Working Coworker]?”

Me: “Okay?! Yes, she had an important deadline yesterday. Looks like she finished that project, though.”

Lazy Coworker: “It’s not just yesterday. I mean… [Hard Working Coworker] should get a life already! Some more months and she’ll move in here. She never even goes to lunch break with the rest of us.”

Me: “If you say so. She does good work and that’s what counts, right?”

Lazy Coworker: “Still, doesn’t she—”

(Suddenly said coworker comes through the open door behind our desks. The lazy coworker isn’t sure whether our coworker heard her rant, so she quickly switches her play.)

Lazy Coworker: *deceitfully* “Hey, we were just talking about you. Do you want to grab some food with us? Or should we bring something for you? We were thinking about kebab.”

(Hard Working Coworker grabs a nearby carton of starch packaging material and starts eating it like chips while keeping a straight face. The lazy coworker, who, by the looks of it, doesn’t know it is edible, looks at her in shock.)

Coworker: “No, thank you, but since I’m apparently planning to move in here, I need to make do with what I can find inside the office.”

(She walked away, still eating the packaging material. I immediately burst out laughing. Fortunately, this led the lazy coworker to ignore me for quite some time.)

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Where Lazy Meets Lucky

, , , | Learning | June 9, 2017

(In Germany, we have to get a few weeks of work experience during our school time. We are also obligated to make a complete folder about it, with several chapters (introducing the company we work for, the workers themselves, writing essays about at least two days of work and taking tons of pictures). I, being the s**t-head I am, am not looking forward to it and don’t do a thing until it is two days after the deadline. I write the whole thing in about two and a half hours, before I have another lesson with the teacher supervising our working experiences. Since I am in a bilingual class, we have to do half of the folder in English, too. This is the feedback I get for it:)

Teacher: “And here are your folders! I’m sorry it took such a long time to grade them. As always, the results are varied, but I was more than pleasantly surprised by one of your works.”

(Starts handing out folders, talking briefly to everyone about their grades.)

Teacher: *to me, loudly* “And [My Name]! Your folder was a little special, wasn’t it?”

(I’m basically expecting to get scolded for turning it in late and being sloppy. I didn’t even proofread the thing, for Heaven’s sakes.)

Me: “…it was?”

Teacher: “Yes! In all my years as a teacher — and that were a lot of years, as you all can see — I have never seen a single work that was this good! This is the first time I gave anyone a A+. You wrote the whole thing in English, your grammar and spelling were perfect, the way you wrote was creative and entertaining, the order of the pictures was great and complementing the story, and honestly, I am more than happy that I got to read this. Thank you. This really showed me that after all these years of teaching, I still love my job.”

Me: *sincerely* “Thank you, Mr. [Teacher]. I put a lot of effort and work into it.”

(That man was one of the kindest teachers I ever met, and eventually was the first person I gave one of my short stories to. At that point, he only had three years left before he retired. He wasn’t the best teacher in the world, but he sure was one of the best people. Unfortunately, he passed away before he retired and could take his trip around the USA to live out his passion for photography. Thank you for always being positive and nice, even though you had to deal with lazy dip-s**ts like me.)

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Why Can’t You Be In Two Places At Once?

, , , | Working | June 7, 2017

(I’m very new to the hotel business, and have learned that there is only one person — me — working overnight. Lately, the customers having been complaining about me.)

Manager: “Why are there so many complaints about our overnight service?”

Me: “Probably because I’m delivering things to rooms when someone else calls needing stuff.”

Manager: “What can we do to make it better for you?”

Me: “Have someone else watch the desk while I deliver stuff?”

Manager: “NO!”

(My suggestion was ignored and the complaints kept coming. The manager never consulted me again on this matter and seemed happy with the complaints coming in. Sad.)

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Tearing Down Whatever You Built Up

, , , , , | Learning | June 1, 2017

One of the classes I take is basically a shop class. Our midterm grade is to build something for the area Inventor’s Fair.

I have a “friend” who can’t flesh out an original idea to save her life and while I have an idea, I can’t make it work. We end up partnering up — she fixes my idea– and we have the entirety of winter break to build the prototype and make the project’s poster-board and everything else for it. Well, we agree that I’ll do the research and poster-board because I’m not very good building things.

Halfway into break, I have the audacity to ask for pictures of the project for the board. She says, “Well, I built it, but it’s at my dad’s house in South Carolina and it wouldn’t fit in my bag to go on the plane home.”

I smelled bull-s***. But I thought, hey, we have a week still. It’ll be fine.

Every time I ask, and it gets to the point I’m asking everyday, she insists it’s at her dad’s, that he won’t send the pictures, that he’s being lazy, etc.

At this point I’m already rewriting the board and putting together a s*** prototype but a prototype which is the largest part of our grade.

Well, we present it, and she b****es eight ways to Sunday about the “plainness” of our board, and gets herself in trouble for continuing to decorate when the teacher says time’s up.

We go up and present. I have to present just about EVERYTHING because this girl doesn’t know a thing about what I had to do. All the pics are of me working, and the prototype is all my work.

Well, we survive, and I open up for questions and this girl says, before anyone can ask anything, “Just so you know, we had a better prototype that was pretty and well-made and all, but my dad’s being a butt and won’t send it.”

If looks could kill, I don’t know if the teacher or I would have killed her first.

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