Unfiltered Story #88999

, , | Unfiltered | June 2, 2017

I’m a lawyer. We deal with lots of immigration work, and charge a fee. One day, I get a call on my mobile from a withheld number- no idea where he got my details. The caller is about to be deported and wants me to represent him. He won’t tell me his name or address.

Caller: …And I want you to do it for free.

Me: Ah. Sorry, can’t help you with that. But if you call… (A charity that might be able to help)

Caller: WHAT THE F**K? If you don’t do it for free, I’ll… I’ll BREAK ALL MY FINGERS one after another until you do!

Me: I… what? Why? You just need to call…

Caller: DON’T FUCK WITH ME! I’M GOING TO BREAK THEM ALL!

Me: What? Stop, don’t… (There’s a horrible *SNAP* and cracking noise as he breaks one of his fingers. I hear the whole thing).

Caller: AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH! F***********K! (He starts sobbing in obvious agony).

Me: What did you do!? Stop it! Don’t… (*SNAP*)

Caller: (Sobbing gets worse) DO IT FOR FREE!

Me: Wait! Please! I can’t help you, but I know someone who… (*SNAP* *SNAP* Two go at once)

Caller: OHHHHH GODDDDDD (Sobbing)! WHY? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?! STOP IT, PLEASE! DO IT FOR FREEEEEEE! (*CRUNCH* This one sounds like it doesn’t break cleanly. He squeals in pain.)

Me: F**k. Where are you? I’m going to call you an ambulance.

Caller: OHHHH F********K! (*SNAP* loudest one yet) AAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHH! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! I’M CRIPPLED AND IT’S YOUR FAULT! (*SNAP*) S**T! F**K YOOOOOOUUUUU!

I hang up, and run to the bathroom to throw up. I called the police and told them what I’d heard. They try to find the caller to get him to hospital, but they can’t trace the call and he never told me his name or address. That’s the last I hear of it.

About two years later, I’ve moved to another firm in the same area, and I get a call from another lawyer in that firm who’s had a call from a possible client and wants my opinion. Apparently, the client has told him that about two years ago, his lawyer cut off all his fingers because he couldn’t pay. Funnily enough, I don’t take the case.

They’re Acting Bitter About The Sweet

, , , , , | Right | May 31, 2017

(I work for a high quality chocolatier in England. Our products are pricey due to the amount of cocoa we use, which is the most expensive ingredient. The shop is in central London so our clientele don’t tend to notice the prices. I’m at the till when I’m approached by a man who looks like every other client. He has a few reasonably priced items so I scan them through:)

Me: “That will be £35.50, please.”

Customer: “£35! For that!?”

Me: “Yes, sir, is that a problem?”

Customer: “But it’s just chocolate!”

Me: “You’re not wrong, sir, but prices for cocoa are very high and we use more in our products than any other chocolatier.”

Customer: “Surely you have discounts you could give me?”

Me: “I’m afraid not, sir. I can’t discount perfectly good products. You wouldn’t happen to work for the NHS or the police?”

Customer: “YES!”

Me: “Great! That entitles you to a 20% discount. Can I see your work pass?”

Customer: “Oh… I don’t have one… I thought you’d just believe me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t include a discount without a reason.”

Customer: “You can’t reject my sale! This store is so quiet. You need my business.”

Me: “Actually, sir—” *I bring up our sales tracker* “—we’re £200 over our budget today. It’s only quiet because it’s night time. And I’m not rejecting your sale; you’re rejecting our prices. Would you like me to help you find some cheaper alternatives?”

(He just grumbles and pays for his items, storming out past another customer who had been waiting patiently behind him.)

Customer #2: “Some people are just miserable, aren’t they?”

(I total their order up.)

Me: *to next guest* “That’ll be £15.”

Customer #2: *confused* “But the price says £30?”

Me: “I know, but you didn’t ask for a discount so I gave you my 50% off. Have a great day!”

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Should Have Framed It Differently

, , , , | Right | December 26, 2016

(I am a picture framer. Generally my waiting list is around 4 – 6 weeks. It is the week before Christmas. A customer comes into the shop and I greet them; they start discussing the job and I make sure to mention I will not be able to complete any orders in time for Christmas; just to check before we go through all the detail.)

Customer: “No, that’s fine; I don’t need it for Christmas.”

(We carry on and it’s a fairly big job with lots of lots of different mouldings to be ordered. I tally it all up.)

Me: “It could be done for the end of January.”

Customer: “Oh, but I need it for Boxing Day.”

(Boxing Day is Dec 26th and a bank holiday in the UK…)

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This Is A Bad Sine

, , , , | Learning | July 31, 2016

(We are in maths class; I’m bored so start making puns.)

Friend: *overdramatically* “I’m hungry for maths knowledge.”

Me: “Try eating some pi.”

(I got a mixed response of laughs and groans. Later:)

Friend: “My calculator is my all powerful weapon!”

Me: “What are you going to do with it? Divide and conquer?”

(Mostly groans. After the bell has rung:)

Me: *realising there’s pie in the canteen today* “You know I think they should serve us our pie in boxes.”

Friend: “Why?”

Me: “Because pie are squared, of course!”

(My friend walked away and didn’t talk to me until the next day.)

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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?)

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