(I work at a local chain of an international retail store. Recently, the store decided to put soundbars on display — a total of three — connected to our TV wall, and put the volume at an unnecessarily high input. The soundbars are so loud that we can’t hear phone calls clearly, hear our customers, or hear each other, which has led us to resort to shouting or using hand gestures to get across what we’re doing. It has given many of us headaches and decreased traffic in our department drastically. We’ve talked to multiple managers about this, including the new manager over our department who replaced the sweetest woman I’ve ever known. The new manager is a heartless woman who has only declined our pleading and even told us to turn UP the soundbars.)

Me: “Hey, [Assistant Manager], do you have a moment to talk?”

Assistant Manager: “Not really, but what’s up?”

Me: “Listen, the soundbars have to be turned down. They’re so obnoxiously loud that they’re giving us headaches and driving away customers. A guy tried to buy a phone plan but left because they were annoying him.”

Assistant Manager: “Yeah, I can’t really do anything about that; that’d be your supervisors’ job. Besides, as far as I know, it’s a corporate decision, so…” *shrugs and rushes off*

(The next day I come in, which is after a corporate visit — a nutjob threatened the store — I notice the soundbars are significantly lower. They’re so low, I don’t notice them until two hours into my shift.)

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], do you hear that? I can actually think!”

Coworker: *laughs* “Yeah, corporate came in today and said they were way too loud, so we got to turn them down.”

(Sweet victory!)

(A customer puts a big bottle of whiskey on the counter. I ring it in.)

Me: “Okay, that will be $35.56.”

Customer: “It was supposed to be on sale for $25.” 

Me: “Well, I’m unaware of a sale on this item. Let me just ask my boss. [Boss]?”

Boss: *who was listening from a few feet away* “That brand isn’t on sale. It’s $35.”

Customer: “Can you check the shelf?”

(Boss obliges.)

Boss: “$35.”

Customer: “Fine.” *pays*

(After the customer left, my boss told me he saw them move a sale tag in front of the brand they wanted, and refused to give them a deal through dishonest means.)

Related:
Sale Fail, Part 4
Sale Fail, Part 3
Sale Fail, Part 2

(Someone knocks at the door, so I answer it. The guy standing there says:)

Guy: “Miss [Mispronunciation Of My Name]?” 

Me: “Who’s asking?”

Guy: “Sorry to have to tell you this, love, but your brother named you on a loan that he’s defaulted on. We’ve come to collect the goods up to the value of three thousand.”

Me: *extremely suspicious* “Well, I never signed any such thing, and I’m sure you won’t mind if I call the police and a solicitor, will you? Just to make sure everything’s above board?”

Guy: “No need to worry about that, love. How about we come in, get the stuff, and we’ll say no more about it?”

Me: *desperately thinking about makeshift weapons I could grab* “No. How about you stay out there, and I’ll call the police? If you’re legit, that won’t be a problem, will it?”

Guy: “Oh, well, never mind, love. We’ll see if there’s anything we can do.”

(They then went across the street. I called the non-emergency police number and gave a description of the guy and an explanation of what was going on. Three hours later, I got a call from the local police. They’d picked up a group of three going around trying to rip people off.)

(Our company does plans to show where a house will be built on the property. Naturally, these plans are given to the county for review and approval to help get a building permit. If a house is over 5,000 square feet of disturbance, then the county will treat it as major construction work and cause a host of other plans to be done. If the house is under 5,000 square feet, then the project is exempt from the other plans. Doing a house under 5,000 square feet is easier to get a permit for in both time and cost. A client is trying to build a house under the 5,000 square feet so he can sell it later on. We have worked with him and he hates the ones over 5,000 square feet. We do the plan and have come up with around 4,900 square feet of disturbance. He is happy and we have it submitted to the permit office. About two weeks later, we get an email from a county reviewer about the project. Comments happen all the time so this is not unexpected. A few are minor, but two catch our eye.)

Reviewer: “1. Make the driveway pad at the front into a square and revise the plan. 2. Submit a [document saying the house is a major plan for projects over 5,000 square feet].”

(I print the email off and deliver it to my boss, who worked on the plan.)

Boss: “This doesn’t seem right. Why does she want to make the driveway pad like that? There is no rule I can find saying she can do that. If we do what she wants, we will be over 5,000. You know [Client] is not going to like that.”

(My boss and I go through all the requirements for driveways and can’t find anything saying that we have to do that. My boss writes back a detailed message about why we won’t do that and asking what the requirement is that says we have to do that. A few days later, we get this message.)

Reviewer: “[Department Head] is requiring it. Please update the plans.”

(We have worked with [Department Head] before in the past and know him to be a reasonable person. We try to call the reviewer and all but one time we get an answering machine. The one time we get through, she says:)

Reviewer: “The message I sent you is enough.”

(We try to talk with [Department Head] directly, but he is extremely busy and typically out of the office. After sending messages and phone calls, we call his office to set up a meeting with him in person. Two weeks later, [Department Head], [Reviewer], my boss, and I meet at the department head’s office.)

Boss: “So, this is about [Project] that you reviewed.”

Department Head: “What project? I don’t recall any project like this.”

(This isn’t unusual; he is only second to the head of the whole agency, who is appointed by the county counsel, and has hundreds of jobs. My boss gives him the email with the original comments from the reviewer and shows him the plan.)

Department Head: “I don’t understand. This doesn’t appear to be any comment I made. These comments make no sense to me.”

(This is the first time my boss or I have heard of this.)

Me: *turning to reviewer* “So whose comments are these?”

Reviewer: “[Supervisor]. She is the one who requested it. I don’t know why we are in this meeting with [Department Head].”

(The supervisor and the department head are not even close to being mixed up. The supervisor is a blonde, 30-year-old woman who has a common name, while the department head is a black, 60-year-old man with a very uncommon name that is hard to pronounce.)

Me: “You said yourself for weeks that [Department Head] was the one asking for these comments.”

Reviewer: “I never said that.”

Me: “I have your email right here.” *passes it over to [Department Head]*

Reviewer: “That isn’t my email. You must have changed it.”

(The department head facepalms.)

Department Head: “Let me look at the comments.”

(He took a quick look at the comments and removed the comments about the driveway and forcing us to go over 5,000 square feet. The reviewer is still there, but every time we get her, she delays our jobs almost as a revenge for catching her in a lie.)

(I’m having lunch at a small diner.)

Waiter: “Hello. What can I get you?”

Me: “I’ll have fries, a chocolate shake, and a burger. No pickles or onions, please.”

Waiter: “Are you allergic?”

Me: “No, I just don’t like onions and pickled food makes me gag.”

Waiter: “Are you sure?”

Me: “How often do you have people pretending to have allergies?”

Waiter: “Too often. I don’t get why people won’t just admit they don’t like something.”

Me: “From experience, they either think disliking and being allergic are the same thing or they believe that they’ll get their food faster.”

Waiter: “Yeah, as if we didn’t have to scrub everything and use separate utensils.”

Me: “And makes it harder for people with actual allergies. Anyway, about the food…”

Waiter: “Oh, right, sorry. Coming right up.”

(While I was waiting for my food, in the booth next to me, a father kept saying his kids were allergic to cheese. The kids insisted they weren’t. The guy’s wife returned from the restroom and slapped him over the head. It turns out he didn’t like the cheesy smell and gooey mess.)

Related:
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 15
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 14
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 13