Right Working Romantic Related Learning Friendly Healthy Legal Inspirational Unfiltered

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!

Read the next Crayon Roundup story!

Read the Crayon Roundup!

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.”

(Pause.)

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

(Pause.)

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.”

(Pause.)

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

(Pause.)

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

(Pause.)

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

(Pause.)

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.”

(Pause.)

Friend: “NO, I AM NOT GIVING YOU MY CREDIT CARD NUMBER! YOU MESSED UP MY ORDER! I AM NOT PAYING FOR A SECOND PIZZA WHEN YOU’RE THE ONES THAT SCREWED UP!”

(Pause.)

Friend: “YES, IT HAS TO BE DELIVERED TONIGHT. I WOULD LIKE TO ACTUALLY EAT TONIGHT!”

(Pause.)

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.”

(Pause.)

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!

Read the next Celiac Awareness Day roundup story!

Read the Celiac Awareness Day roundup!

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.

Read the next Epilepsy roundup story!

Read the Epilepsy roundup!

Doing Service A Disservice

, , , , , | Working | June 22, 2016

(I work in a five-star hotel in London, as a room service associate. At times we will hire “temps,” who are sourced from an agency, to help with demand – basically zero-hour contracts. On one such occasion, the hotel function room is having a wedding party, and room service is slammed with requests. The wedding party is busy, but they manage to send one of the agency staff,  who is already well-known for not having the slightest knowledge about service, and has been told at least three times how to hold a service tray properly. He is also incredibly lazy, and will gladly step back when everyone else is busy, and complain about the work load. I decide the best course of action is to just lump it, and get on with it. I’m in the kitchen, bringing a whole tray of food down to be arranged when my manager comes by.)

Manager: “Hey, have you seen [Agency Guy]?”

Me: “Yeah, he should be in Room Service. I asked him to get the trays ready for service.”

Manager: “He’s there, but he said he’s making coffee for an order. I checked the print outs and we have no orders for coffee yet.”

Me: “Right, let me see what’s going on.”

(I proceed to walk down a flight of stairs, carrying a tray with at least six main course dishes which not only are very heavy, but are also hot to the touch. The wooden tray is flimsy, and my hands start to burn. I come into Room Service to see Agency Guy sitting down, with no trays ready, sipping on a coffee. He’s faced away from me, so I purposely slam the tray down to get his attention. He jumps from his seat, and actually pretends like he was busy.)

Agency Guy: “Oh! I was just—”

Me: “Save it. We are too busy right now for me to want to listen to your excuses. Just get the trays ready, and send them up as soon as possible.”

Agency Guy: “But I don’t know how to do this!”

Me: “I’ve shown you three times already how to arrange a tray properly. It’s not rocket science. Fine, you go to the kitchen, get the food, and be back here sharpish.”

Agency Guy: “Okay, okay. Whatever…”

(I’m fuming at this guy right now, but we are stacked with orders, so I usher him away to the kitchen whilst I get everything ready to send up. In that time I get three calls from three separate rooms enquiring rather impolitely where their food is. Keep in mind they are paying top rate for this. I promise them their food will be with them shortly, and send up the trays. I come back 15 minutes later to find no other food ready, or Agency Guy. I manage to bump into my manager whilst looking for him.)

Me: “Hey, have you seen [Agency Guy]?”

Manager: “He told me you didn’t need his help anymore.”

Me: “What..?”

Manager: “He came to me and said you had it under control, so he’s helping us now.”

Me: “But I still have seven orders to do. I had to comp my last three because he hasn’t lifted a f****** finger in helping me yet!”

(I very rarely swear, even to my manager. But right now I am furious; my manager reads my tone instantly.)

Manager: “I will speak to him. Just do your best and comp more food if you need to. Okay?”

(Before I can say anything, the manager hurries back to the wedding party. I spend the next hour literally running between the kitchen, room service, and guest rooms, just to get back on track. At the end of it, my manager comes back to me.)

Manager: “Okay, we are done now. I have asked [Agency Guy] to come see you before he leaves. He was just as lazy in the wedding, so if he tries to protest, I’ll back you up.”

Me: *evil grin* “That would be great.”

Manager: “[Agency Guy], [My Name] would like to have a word with you.”

(I wait for my manager to hide away within earshot, as the Agency Guy walks over.)

Agency Guy: “You wanted to speak to me?”

Me: “I did. How do you think today went?”

Agency Guy: “Amazing! I worked so hard in here, and in the wedding! You were a bit slow, though, so—”

Me: “Okay, stop right there. First of all, you aren’t that good. All through today I had to chase you to find out what you were doing; half the time you were idle or drinking coffee. Second, you didn’t even pull any weight in the wedding. And third, don’t ever insult my ability. You just pissed off from here because you didn’t want to do the work [Manager] pays you to do, which meant that I had to do your job, as well as my own.”

Agency Guy: “Well, f*** you. Manager promised me your position anyway, because you’re slow as f***!”

Me: “Really?”

(I open a door behind me; my manager is standing there which causes the Agency Guy to go red in the face.)

Me: “Is that true, [Manager]?”

Manager: “You know it isn’t. [Agency Guy] get out of my hotel. You’re fired.”

(Agency Guy tried to argue, but he was already embarrassed enough he just hightailed it out of there. A week later the same agency lost the contract because of poorness of quality, so we outsourced our contract elsewhere. Guess who came back under another name, and was promptly ejected from the hotel?)

Your Checkout Does Not Check Out

, , , | Working | May 15, 2016

(Each cab at the company I work for is checked out by the driver each shift. When it’s checked out, it’s the driver’s responsibility to make sure the little things are taken care of. There is one coworker who is incredibly lazy and complains about everything. We’re talking over their walkie-talkies.)

Coworker: “This is such bulls***.”

Me: “What?”

Coworker: “Whoever had cab [number] last left it trashed! There’s [Fast Food] wrappers everywhere!” *continues to rant a few minutes*

Me: *checks the previous week’s schedule* “Um… [Coworker]? You were the last one to check out that cab.”

Coworker: “…”


This story is part of our Nothing roundup!

Read the next Nothing roundup story!

Read the Nothing roundup!