Makes You Want To Soda Scream

, , , , | Right | July 10, 2018

(A customer comes up to my till.)

Customer: “This is for my daughter’s birthday, and I’d really like to hurry and get home.”

Me: *looking at the order he has, there are a few toys and a soda maker* “I see you’re bringing the party with you!”

Customer: “I am! So let’s hurry. I’d like these bagged very specifically.”

Me: “Sure, I’ll scan and you tell me what to bag.”

(The customer began moving the items around a bunch. I’ve seen it before: they start messing with their order to get you to double-scan something so they have a reason to bring items back. I’m positive I didn’t double-scan anything, but an hour later, we received a call saying that I double-charged him and he’d be in for a refund the next day. The thing is, our soda makers are $20, and come with two CO2 cartridges and a glass bottle, all of which are $20 EACH when sold separately. As if by magic, he lost the receipt, demanded a refund for his double-charge, and returned the soda maker without the CO2 cartridges or the bottle because “they smelled weird so I threw them out.” All in all, we paid him $40 to make $60 to $80 on eBay.)

Digging Your Nails Into This Alibi

, , , , , | Working | July 9, 2018

(A coworker bursts into my office.)

Coworker: *thrusting a sheet of paper into my hand* “I need you to sign this!”

Me: *after reading the paper* “[Coworker], I can’t sign this. This says you attended [Meeting] yesterday.”

Coworker: “I know; I sort of need an alibi.”

Me: “But this wouldn’t prove anything. [Meeting] is held over instant messenger. All someone has to do it check the record and see you weren’t in it.”

Coworker: “So, you won’t help me? God, you’re so mean now that you’ve been promoted. I could lose my job.”

Me: “What’s the alibi for, anyway?”

Coworker: “I needed to nip out and get a pedicure for my great-aunt’s funeral on Friday, and I can only get it done at [Salon], which is near [Town]. And, well, the parking is really bad, so I took the metro, and I ended up being gone for five hours.”

Me: “Five hours?! You know you could’ve taken compassionate leave?”

Coworker: “And missed ogling at those construction workers across the road? Think straight, [My Name]!” *leaves*

(She probably would have gotten away with her little frolic, had she not acted suspicious and blurted out a fabricated story to her manager, who then followed up on it and discovered the truth. She wasn’t fired, but she lost access to her company car for the rest of the week, meaning she had to pay to drive to the funeral. A rumour started later that month that she decided not to go, and spent all day at home.)

As If The Fraudsters Were Born Yesterday

, , , | Legal | July 8, 2018

(I work at a rather successful insurance company. A gaudy, middle-aged woman walks in. We go through all the information needed smoothly until…)

Me: “Okay, that just about does it. I just need you to answer one more question.”

Client: “Okay.”

Me: “What date were you born?”

Client: “October 7, 1973.”

Me: “Okay.” *murmuring as I write it down* “October 7, 1973.”

Client: “Oh, I think you must have misheard me. I said January 19, 1969.”

Me: “Oh, my mistake.”

(We go through everything again to make sure I didn’t make any mistakes. Lo and behold, when we get to the birth date, more trouble arises.)

Me: “And your birth date is January 19, 1969. Is that correct?”

Client: *getting aggravated* “You need to listen more carefully! I said May 23, 1972!”

Me: *getting suspicious* “Hey, [Coworker], can you come over here real quick?”

Coworker: “Uh, yeah, sure.”

Me: “And Miss [Client], what did you say your birthday was?”

Client: “September 1, 1965!”

Me: “Uh-huh, and [Coworker], what did I put down last?”

Coworker: “May 23, 1972.”

Client: “I never said that! He must have misheard me!”

Me: “[Coworker], do you think I misheard her? I mean, May 23, 1972 does sound a lot like September 1, 1965.”

Coworker: *catching on* “Yeah, you’re absolutely right, [My Name]. I’ll just go get security down here and see if they think the same thing.”

(Upon hearing this, the lady turned bright red, and turned around to run. She tripped and fell, along with her purse, to the ground. The purse burst open to reveal 20+ credit cards. She got up to run, but found herself face to face with a security guard. Turned out she was an identity thief, and was simply trying to remember the birth date of the person she was impersonating.)

Sip Of Justice

, , , , | Legal | July 7, 2018

(This takes place in the drive-thru.)

Me: “Your total is $5.45.”

Customer: “Last time I was here you got my order wrong! I swear to God if you got it wrong this time…”

Me: *confirms order, just to avoid hearing her complain* “All right, so, that’s $5.45.”

(The customer pays for her order, grabs her drink, and takes one sip and immediately starts screaming. She reels back to throw her drink at me, but I quickly close the drive-thru window, and the drink bounces off of it and lands on her. She drives off screaming before coming inside, covered in her drink.)

Customer: *to my manager* “THAT LITTLE B**** THREW MY DRINK AT ME!”

Manager: “That really doesn’t sound like something she’d do, but I’ll go ahead and check the security cameras.” *after checking the footage* “All right, ma’am, I have video evidence of you trying to assault one of my employees. If you leave now we won’t call the police.”

(The customer screamed incoherently and ran away. We called the police anyway and gave them the footage and her license plate number.)

The Epic Of Gary And Olga

, , , , , , , | Working | July 6, 2018

(I work for a small tech company as an admin and HR assistant. My mom also happens to work for the company, as the HR manager. Once a year, we hold yearly all-hands company meetings in a hotel in some nice location. This year’s meeting takes place in Las Vegas. We have a new employee, Olga, a woman in her mid-twenties who joined the company only a few weeks ago from a branch in Eastern Europe. All names are fake, fake, fake. The meeting goes well, Olga does her own short presentation very professionally, and everyone goes their own way in the evening. I have a quiet night in. The next morning around nine am, I’m going to breakfast with my parents.)

Mom: “Did you hear what happened?”

Me: “No, what?”

Mom: “I got an email a couple of hours ago from [Another employee], saying that Olga had an accident and had to be taken to a hospital.”

Me: “Oh, no! What happened?”

Mom: “I wasn’t given much detail, but the email said that she fell and hit her head early this morning. She was taken to an ER with a head injury, was admitted, and was there for hours. She seems to have amnesia.”

Me: “Oh, my God! How did that happen?”

Mom: “I’m not sure; they didn’t give any more detail than that.”

Me: *realizes something* “Wait a second. ‘Early this morning’? That sounds like she went to some bar last night, got completely drunk and then fell because of that. ‘Early this morning’ probably means one or two am.”

Mom: “No! No way… Really? You think that’s what happened?”

Me: “Yeah, totally.”

Mom: “No. I mean, I’m sure they’d have said something if that was the case. Anyway, Olga seems like such a sensible girl; I’m sure she’s not the type to do that.”

Me: “Okay, sure. Whatever.”

(I really don’t like to make terrible assumptions about people, but I am just going by logic. If, at nine am, Mom got this email a couple hours ago, and it says that Olga’s already been in hospital for several hours at this point, and the accident happened “early this morning,” that means it was barely after midnight. And otherwise, in all likelihood, how could a young woman have “fallen” and gotten a head injury shortly after midnight, on a Friday night, in Las Vegas? Especially without anybody claiming they were mugged or anything like that. The odds of it being anything else but extreme drunkenness are just not high. Some time later:)

Mom: “Olga’s out of the hospital; thankfully the amnesia was only temporary and she seems fine now. The hospital bill was quite high, though, and since she’s a new employee and only recently came to the US, of course she had no insurance yet, so our company had to pay all of her medical bills. But everyone swore to me and [Company CEO] that the accident had absolutely nothing to do with alcohol. Poor Gary, though – he ended up having to accompany her to the hospital and sit there with her all night.”

(“Poor Gary” is one of our long-time and highest-salaried employees, a quite good-looking guy in his early to mid-thirties.)

Mom: “Yes, poor Gary; he’s so harassed. You know how Olga has managed to recently get herself transferred to our lucrative project in the Silicon Valley? Meanwhile, she’s living in San Francisco – where Gary also lives – and she’s making him teach her how to live there, drive her around, and help her with absolutely everything since there’s no one else from the company living there. Poor Gary’s already so busy with work, and Olga’s bothering him with all sorts of nonsense and making him essentially take care of her. I hope he’s not feeling too overburdened.”

(Then, at next year’s all-hands company meeting.)

Mom: “Do you know what I learned about Olga? They swore up and down to me last year that her injury had nothing to do with drinking, but I found out recently from other employees that they were lying their pants off! They went to some Vegas bar late at night, she got severely drunk, she was dancing, and she managed to fall and hit her head on some table or bar end! The company paid so much money for her hospital bills for that! Ugh! If I tell [Company CEO] about this he’ll be spitting mad! Can you believe this?”

Me: *barely managing to keep my face straight* “Really. I’m shocked.”

Mom: “Poor Gary, having to deal with her and all her nonsense…”

(Less than a year later, Poor Gary quit without notice, in the middle of managing an extremely important project for our company, to take a very lucrative management job with a huge Silicon Valley company. Less than a month after that, Olga also quit without notice, abandoning the project on which she was the lead programmer, to take a programmer job with a different Silicon Valley tech giant. This seriously messed up the projects for our company, and our CEO was absolutely furious that they abandoned ship in this way after being treated well, getting high salaries, having Olga’s medical bills paid with no question, and setting her up on a project where the client was paying for nearly all the cost of her food AND her San Fran apartment’s rent, etc. Not too long after this, I did an Internet search on them out of curiosity, and one of the very first pages that popped up was Olga’s and Poor Gary’s upcoming wedding announcement site, gushing at length and in very saccharine terms about how happy and in love they were and had been ever since they met when Olga first moved to San Fran. “Poor Gary,” indeed. Terribly harassed, I’m sure.)

Page 4/62First...23456...Last
« Previous
Next »