Getting Some Time Traveler’s Insurance

, , , , | Working | March 8, 2020

(I have been having issues with my car and am using a rental. I’ve extended the time once and am trying to do so again. No one from the location is answering the phone, so I unwillingly choose to talk to someone in the call center. I am talking to someone from the rental extension department.)

Me: “And is it possible to change the insurance option I chose? I need to save some money.”

Employee: “You would have to talk to the location when you drop off the car.”

Me: “I can change the insurance retroactively? That doesn’t make sense.”

(This repeats once or twice more.)

Me: “Is there an email I can send? I called the location four times in an hour and no one has picked up.”

Employee: “We don’t have an email. You will have to keep calling or talk to them when you return the rental.”

Me: “Can you explain to me how that works to retroactively change the insurance?”

(She suddenly stopped answering and the line went mute. I said, “Hello?” several times and got no response. I hung up and called back. Finally, someone from the location answered! He said I would have to drive there and start a new contract to change the insurance. I went there and signed a new contract. I knew there was no way that lady could be right.)

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History Will Record This Job As Never Existing

, , , , | Working | March 6, 2020

After graduating, I am struggling to find a job that fits my MA in history. In the year after that, my sister sends me an email about a vacancy she saw. It turns out that a certain book which has something to do with a prominent Dutch historical figure will be republished, and therefore they want to make a glossy(magazine) about the historical figure. Obviously, they need historians to help them with the research and writing the articles. 

Interested, I apply for the job. After a few weeks, I get an answer by email. The person doing the applications mentions that he selected a few of the candidates and will make a definitive selection from these. Therefore, we have to supply some ideas, to show how professional and creative we are. Since this is one of my first job applications since college, I do not think too much of it and start working on ideas. This is tough, since I am not experienced with making this kind of article and have no clue what kind of audience they want to reach. After a while, I deliver my ideas by email. 

After that, several weeks go by without any reply. Looking back in the email, I realise the guy never gave us a deadline when we had to deliver nor a date when he would let us know. With the weeks passing by, I am starting to wonder whether I will hear more of him or not.

Much to my surprise, the guy sends another email. By this time, almost a month has passed. His reply, however, only mentions that he will look at our “ideas” and then will let us know of his final decisions. Again, no date is mentioned. Also, he never explains why his reply is so late. I feel tempted to ask him, but I decide not to do so, since it could threaten my chances.

Not very surprisingly, I never hear from the guy again. I conclude that either he took all of our ideas for himself — a conclusion many people I know made — or that he did take on some people after all, but simply couldn’t be bothered to tell the people who failed — which is also likely, since he never put on any deadlines or dates, meaning he might be kind of careless. A few years later, I mention the story to someone, who replies that if you want a job and you don’t get an answer “you have to go after them.” Although that might be true, I am quite sure that it would have been a waste of effort with this bloke.

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What A Lazy (Gl)Ass

, , , , , , | Working | March 6, 2020

I am working in a department that relies heavily on speed. It is one of those newer ones that takes online orders and gets customers groceries for them so they don’t have to enter the store. 

On one of these days, we all are rushing trolleys to meet our next deadline and one of the aisles ends up having a broken light bulb shoved onto a lower shelf, spilling shards on the floor. This causes me to stop immediately and radio for someone to call over a janitor. To ensure no one gets hurt, I have to wait there now and warn people about this, so I turn off my system to avoid being timed.

When I turn around, I also note that there is a large puddle of water and radio them about that, as well. So now, I’m standing here warning everyone about water and broken glass, waiting for help. The entire time I watch, the time we have to get this order ready slowly dwindles away. They definitely called for the janitor; it was over the intercom several minutes ago. 

Normally, this would be okay; maybe he was doing something more important. But over ten minutes later, he shows up casually facing items at the other side of the aisle. I attempt to call him over so I don’t leave the area. It doesn’t really work, so I walk over to alert him.

He seems surprised that there is any mess at all and follows me over to the water and glass. I point them both out and he grabs a mop and starts cleaning the puddle. Thinking it’s over, I go back to getting my items, only to see him go back to facing immediately after dealing with the puddle. I have to ask him, “What about the glass?” and show him the glass again. 

He gets that cleaned up and I see shards on the floor still, not even very far from where the glass was. He only swept the immediate area. I have to walk over with my time on and ask for his broom to do it myself. He ends up following me and watching as I sweep up the remaining shards for him.

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The Cake Is A Lie, But At Least It’s Free

, , , , | Working | March 5, 2020

My father and I are meeting up because it recently was my birthday. Unfortunately, neither he nor I have time for more than a short trip to the local video game shop and coffee and cake afterward, and the next time we can meet up won’t be for another two weeks. 

But we decide to make the most of it and Dad takes me to a very posh, old-fashioned café. However, it seems understaffed for as big a crowd as it has amassed. Additionally, you have to go up to the counter and pick out your cake which the waiter will then bring to the table, which is when they also take your orders for coffee and other food. You get a small piece of paper with the price and a number on it to make sure you get the right order. 

We order and everything is fine, if slow at first, but we are feeling the time pressure. After we finish our food — my dad has a cake and I a soup — he tells me there’s just enough time for me to get a piece of cake, too, if I want, which I do, of course. So, I go to the counter and pick out my cake. However, it takes so long for the waiters to bring it to us that we flag down the waitress and ask her to pack up the cake to go and bring us the bill. She does — taking several more minutes — and when we get the bill, my cake is not on it. We point this out to her and she tells us to pay at the counter where we will also pick up the cake. She takes the little paper with her.

We go up to the counter and ask for my cake. The person behind it wordlessly shoves it towards me. A little stunned, I take it. My dad asks how much it costs. The person frowns and calls the waitress, who is at the other end of the café and doesn’t hear. I notice that the person behind the counter has put my paper on a spike next to the register. As I point this out, however, the person leaves her position, again wordlessly, to go all the way through the café to speak to the waitress. The person doesn’t even bother to come back to us, instead opting to shout across the entire café that we already paid for it.

This is the point at which we decide, “All right! Fine, then. Free cake it is,” and we leave. Fortunately, both my dad and I make it to our respective appointments in time, and the cake is absolutely divine.

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The Useless Adventures Of Mr. F****** Friendly!

, , , , , , | Working | March 5, 2020

(It’s April in Minnesota, which means it’s pothole season. Because of this, I find myself standing in a long line at a local discount tire place. There are about six of us in line and one employee. This poor guy is trying his best but just can’t keep up.) 

Employee: *into walkie* “Assistance to the front, please.”

(After ten minutes of no one coming to help, the phone starts ringing.)

Employee: *into walkie* “Assistance to the front, please.”

(Ten more minutes pass with no help and still ring… ring… ring…)

Employee: *voice breaking a bit now* “Assistance to the front, please.” 

(At this point, I’m not even mad about waiting anymore. I just feel bad for this guy and am seriously contemplating answering the phone and just putting whoever it is on hold. Cue the entrance of Mr. F****** Friendly.) 

Mr. F****** Friendly: *saunters in, coffee in hand* “Well, hey there, everyone! Looks like we got a busy one today! I only just heard the page, so I rushed up to help! Good thing I came over here from [Sister Location]; these guys sure need my help!” *ignores the still-ringing phone* 

Employee: “Before you help, can you find the keys to [car] so we can start that job? The customer said they were in the drop-off box and I haven’t had a chance to look.” 

Mr. F****** Friendly: “Yeah, I checked, didn’t see them.”

Employee: “Weird, can you check again?” 

Mr. F****** Friendly: “Sure! Uh, where is your guys’ box?” 

Employee: *points* 

(I don’t know what happened. The spirit just gets to me in this moment and I turn into my mother.) 

Me: “So, what you’re saying is you didn’t check the box?” 

Mr. F****** Friendly: *surprised* “Well no.” 

Me: “Then why did you say you did when you didn’t? If you’re going to lie, at least put a little effort into it.” 

Mr. F****** Friendly: *quiets down, grabs the keys, and FINALLY answers the d*** phone*

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