Skipping Out Closing Duties? Nailed It

, | Working | February 3, 2017

I get my nails done quite late in the evening. The nail technician is really friendly and polite and we have a lovely chat. However it seems to me that my simple file and French manicure is taking quite a while – to the extent that I even ask her if she’s new (she isn’t). I hardly ever get my nails done and I can’t look at my phone to see the time while my nails are drying, so I think I must be imagining how long it’s taking.

While she is doing my nails the other technician finishes with her customer, cleans up quickly and efficiently, and gets the place ready for the morning. I notice she seems really grumpy, just short of being rude to both me and my tech. I give my tech a relatively big tip because she was so friendly and it was such a relaxing experience.

As I’m walking away I get out my phone to check the time: I had been there for almost an hour!

I realised the technician had been dragging out my polish to make her colleague do all the closing work, and had even managed to land herself an extra big tip in the process.

Unfortunately they’d already closed, I don’t remember either of their names, and I wasn’t in that area for a while afterwards, so I couldn’t do anything about it – but I hope her colleague or manager talks to her about being so selfish.

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Your Listening Skills Are Under Investigation

, , | Working | October 12, 2016

(A package of clothes I’ve ordered online was supposed to be delivered a few days earlier, but I never received it. I contact the clothing company. They contact the delivery company, who starts their investigation to try to find the package. The delivery company contacts me two days later to inform me they can’t find it and are closing the investigation, and I should contact the seller to inform them and go with their next steps.)

Me: *after giving the incident number to the customer service rep* “I was just contacted by [Shipping Company] who completed their investigation but couldn’t find the package. What do I need to do next?”

Customer Service: “It’s only been two days since the investigation began. The investigation takes 15 days. You’ll hear from [Shipping Company] when they complete the investigation.”

Me: “Sorry, I think I was unclear. [Shipping Company] already contacted me. They completed their investigation and have now closed the investigation. They couldn’t find the package and told me to contact you.”

Customer Service: “It’s only been two days. [Shipping Company] will contact you after 15 days to let you know the results of their investigation.”

Me: “[Shipping Company] already contacted me to let me know the results of their investigation. The closed the investigation already.”

Customer Service: “You will have to wait the 15 days for [Shipping Company] to complete their investigation. They will call you when they are done. Then you can give us a call again and we can move forward.”

Me: *weeps*

(I gave up and contacted them again on day 15. I asked for them to resend the clothes, but they just refunded me. Sigh. Good enough, I guess.)

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Made The Flight Bear-able

, , , , | Related | September 26, 2016

(We are on a large family holiday. All of us are adults now with kids of our own. It’s a long flight so I take out the colouring books and crayons we brought.)

Eldest Sister: “Can we borrow some of them?”

Me: *slightly annoyed at the lack of preparation* “Sure.”

(An hour in, our daughter is getting bored again. I take out some storybooks and snacks.)

Other Sister: “[Child] is bored; could we borrow one?”

Me: “Fine.”

(After a long flight, we have a great holiday and reluctantly join the plane home. As none of the “borrowed” items came back, and with limited shops, we make do.)

Eldest Sister: “You don’t mind if we borrow some again?”

Me: “What happened to the last lot?”

Eldest Sister: *shrugs*

Other Sister: “Me, too!”

(Frustrated and annoyed how two grown women fail to prepare for their own children, but not wanting to ruin the holiday, we do our best to entertain our three-year-old with a few crayons and single colouring book. Quickly enough, she is bored and I have nothing left to entertain her.)

Me: *to my wife* “You know what?! Sod it. We are on holiday. Pass me the menu.” *to the flight attendant* “Can we have two drinks, a kids’ selection pack, and—” *silently pointing* “—one of those, please.”

Stewardess: *all smiles* “Of course, sir.”

(Our daughter might have been upset to leave, but when the pilot teddy bear came down the aisle, she forgot all about it. My sisters, however, had to deal with the begging and pleading from their kids, but of course, they failed to leave any money aside to prepare for the flight home. Two years later, my daughter still has the bear, in a place of pride in her room.)

This story is part of our Crayon Roundup!

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Doesn’t Know Wheat You Mean, Part 3

, , , , , , | Working | September 22, 2016

(My friend has a very severe case of Celiac disease and cannot eat any gluten without getting incredibly ill. She’s very cautious about what she eats and always makes sure to request gluten-free when ordering food, either for delivery or in a restaurant. It’s Saturday night and we’re having game night at her house. My husband and her husband decide they really want pizza, so we call one of the few local pizza places that guarantee a gluten-free crust with no cross-contamination. When the pizzas arrive, we all start to dig in, until my friend realizes something is very wrong.)

Friend: “Ugh! This isn’t gluten-free! This is thin crust!”

Me: “Are you sure? Maybe the gluten-free is a thin crust.”

Friend’s Husband: “Here, let me taste it.” *takes a bite* “Nope, definitely not gluten-free, and there’s flour all over the bottom of it.”

Friend: “Grrr! Give me the phone. This is bull****!” *dials the restaurant* “Yes, I just had a pizza delivery to my house, and I specifically ordered a small gluten-free with bacon and mushrooms, and I can guarantee this is not gluten-free.”


Friend: “Yes, I would love to speak to your manager.”


Friend: “Hi, yes, I just ordered from your store and specifically ordered a small gluten-free pizza with bacon and mushrooms, and not only is this not your gluten-free crust, but it’s covered in flour.”


Friend: “No, I can’t just ‘eat the pizza;’ I have Celiac disease. Do you know what that is?”


Friend: “No, it’s not a fad diet. It means if I eat gluten I end up throwing up and having diarrhea for days.”


Friend: “What I want you to do about it is remake the pizza correctly and have it delivered.”


Friend: “Yeah, I’m sure you are busy, given that it’s Saturday night, but if you guys had done it correctly the first time this wouldn’t be an issue.”






Friend: “Okay, let me explain what I would like from you. I do not want a voucher. I do not want a refund. I just want to be able to eat tonight. I don’t care if it’s going to take 45 minutes to get another pizza to me. Please just remake the pizza, how I ordered it, and have it delivered as soon as possible.”


Friend: “Okay, great.”

Me: “Wow, so, how’d it go?”

Friend: *gives me the dirtiest look I’ve ever seen*

(When her replacement pizza arrived, the delivery guy knocked and then left it on the porch before we could grab the door. It was gluten-free… but with bacon and peppers instead of bacon and mushrooms. She ate it anyway and hasn’t ordered from there since.)

This story is part of our Celiac Awareness Day roundup!

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Overlook And Overstep

, , , , , | Friendly | September 5, 2016

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

(My friend and I are 16 and taking her younger sister, who’s 12, to the shop with us. On the way there, I spot a guy collapse half on the street and half on the road. I run over.)

Me: “Sir, can you hear me? Are you okay?” *to my friend* “Call an ambulance!”

(She does and I put the guy in the recovery position. He starts to come round.)

Stranger: “I’m sorry, girls. I have epilepsy. I’m so sorry.”

Me: “Don’t worry about it. Here, I have some water if you want it.”

(He collapses again and starts having a major seizure. All I can think to do is protect his head from hitting the ground so I shove my jacket under him and try to keep his head safe. One of his arms catches me in the face hard but I hang on. Then, a grown man and woman step over him to pass us. As they walk away, the woman turns around.)

Woman: “Are you girls okay?”

(The man is still seizing and I’m in tears from where he hit me. I’ve told my friend to take her sister a little way away as it’s upsetting her.)

Me: “Not really. This guy is having a seizure and we’ve called an ambulance but I don’t know what I’m doing.”

(The guy rolls his eyes and looks like he wants to walk away but the woman nudges him.)

Man: “He’s wet himself. He’s probably an alcoholic.”

Me: “What does that matter? He’s having a seizure!”

(The ambulance finally arrives and the man goes to greet them. He gives a wrong account of what’s happened and I keep interrupting to correct him. Finally, he gets angry.)

Man: “Listen, I’m a police officer and I’m dealing with the paramedics, so shut up.”

Me: *in disbelief* “You’re a police officer? You stepped over us without helping at all! You’ve been useless!”

(The paramedics raised their eyebrows at this and the man went a little red. The guy was taken away in the ambulance. I never did find out what happened to him but I’ll never forget how willing a policeman was to overlook a man in need.)

This story is part of our Epilepsy roundup.

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