Sometimes The Longest Part Of The Trip Doesn’t Happen On The Plane

, , , , , | Working | May 8, 2020

I’m travelling for business and making a connection in Los Angeles International Airport. I’ve just come off a thirteen-hour flight across the Pacific and I’m exhausted. I collect my bag from the carousel and head on through. They have an area where they check baggage for international arrivals making a connection, which is nice.

Employee: “Place your bag on the belt. Can I see your ticket, please?”

I hand my ticket over and lift my bag onto the belt. He works for a moment, then frowns.

Employee: “I’m sorry, but our printer isn’t working so I can’t print a tag for your bag. Since you’ve already paid, I’ll give you a receipt. You need to go to the service desk and they’ll check your bag.”

Me: “No worries. How do I get there from here?”

The directions he gives me seem solid and I follow them to the best of my ability. I arrive at another desk which is completely deserted, and a bored-looking lady is there to see me. I try to explain the situation to her.

Me: “Hi. I tried to check my bag at the international connection area but they couldn’t print my bag tag and told me to come to the service desk to get my bag checked. They gave me this.” 

I hold out the receipt. [Employee #2] ignores the receipt and looks at my bag.

Employee #2: “You need to go through security.”

Me: “I… can’t. I have things in there which means this bag needs to be checked, not taken as carry-on. I was directed here to get it checked?”

Employee #2: *Suddenly* “What have you got in it?”

I don’t understand why she would want to know.

Me: “Makeup, body wash…”

Employee #2: “They’re going to take it off you.”

We get the attention of another employee who comes over.

Employee #3: “What does she want?”

Employee #2: “She wants to take her makeup through security.”

Me: “No. If you’d just liste—”

Employee #3: “They’re gonna take it off you, honey.”

They’re not listening to me at all, just standing there and repeating over and over that I need to get rid of my stuff. This goes on for a while. I look past the employees to the other side of the room and see body scanners, tubs, and conveyor belts for taking bags through scanners. It looks like security screening is behind this “service desk.”

Me: “I think I’m in the wrong place. Is this the service desk?”

Employee #2: *Still ignoring me* “You need to throw your makeup out.”

Me: “I’m just going to go back.”

I left. When I found the actual service desk, my issue is resolved quickly. I get that I was in the wrong place, but all they needed to say was, “This isn’t the service desk,” or, “We can’t do that here,” and I might have realised a lot sooner and saved us all twenty minutes.

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Stay-At-Home Slacker

, , , , , | Romantic | May 8, 2020

During the recent health crisis, my husband is minding and homeschooling the kids while I work from home upstairs. I was a stay-at-home mom when the kids were very young and he was away for work, and I found it extremely hard, which he knows.

“This is a piece of piss,” is Irish slang for, “This is really, really easy.”

Husband: “This stay-at-home parent thing is a piece of piss.”

Husband: “Of course, I haven’t transferred the money [to joint account] yet. I haven’t had time to do any of my personal admin!”

Husband: “You need to take a longer break in the middle of the day so I can go for a run.”

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Desperately Need It Working… On The Clock

, , , | Right | May 7, 2020

I answer the phone.

Caller: “The system you sold us isn’t working!”

Me: “Okay, try [basic troubleshooting].”

Caller: “It still isn’t working; we desperately need it working today!”

Me: “Okay, no problem. We are only five minutes away. Could you drop it off?”

Caller: “Oh, well… I’m going home in like thirty minutes. I guess it can wait.”

The next week he turned up, only after making sure that he got a paid lunch for doing it.

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We Have A Hutch That This Company Has A Messy Desk

, , , , , | Working | May 6, 2020

I am about to turn thirteen. My mother wants to get a desk from a popular shipping site for me, so she goes on a popular company’s store website and orders the desk, complete with a hutch.

Desk #1 looks nothing like the one we ordered, so we call the company and they offer to send us a new one, just like the one we ordered, for free.

We have high hopes for desk #2, but when it arrives it is dinged up and things are off-center, so we take pictures of the damage, and the company again offers to send a new one at a reduced price. I joke to my mother and tell her that if it keeps going like this, we’ll have a free desk.

Lo and behold, desk #3 is damaged, and the hutch is even worse off. The company apologizes profusely, and my mother, being a patient person, tells them that if the next one is damaged, we will be taking our business elsewhere. The company offers to have somebody inspect it personally moments before it is packaged, to which we agree.

Five days after my thirteenth birthday, the desk arrives, and in no condition to be used. The workers that brought our desk upstairs — also provided as compensation by the company — even say we should ask for a refund.

My mother gives up. We’ve never ordered from that company again.

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Her Lessons Aren’t Exactly Music To Their Ears

, , , | Learning | May 6, 2020

I am studying to become a teacher and we’re learning about music class. We are supposed to learn how to teach music, but all the teacher does is sit behind the piano and let us sing children’s songs. She scolds us if we can’t reach the high notes, which causes the only man of our group to just stop coming. 

Halfway the term, the teacher once again rounds us up around the piano and asks if we have any requests. One of my classmates raises her hand.

Classmate: “Yes, I have a question. When are we going to do something useful in this class?”

The class fell silent; the teacher was silent, too, but I could read thunder from her eyes. After a moment, we were sent to our seats again and told we could go “self-study” for a group performance on musical instruments in a few weeks. She didn’t tell us how to read notes, so we helped each other and the end result was… well, frankly, absolutely terrible. We did all pass the class, including the male student who didn’t show up any more.

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