The Gift Card That Keeps On Taking

, , , , , , | Working | February 13, 2019

(I purchase two items at a department store, but the next day I decide I should really be saving money and decide to return them. On the day of my purchase:)

Me: “Just these two, please.”

Employee #1: “Because you’re spending $200, you get a $50 gift card to use at a later date!”

Me: “Okay, great. Thanks.”

(The next day, when I decide to go back and return my items:)

Me: “Hello, I’d like to return these two items I purchased yesterday.”

Employee #2: “Absolutely, let me help you with that. Okay, so, it looks like you’ll be getting $150 back.

Me: “Wait, what? I spent $200!”

Employee #2: “Oh, well, it says they gave you a $50 gift card for the future, so you get to keep that, and then the return is the remaining $150.”

Me: “What? No. I don’t want the gift card. Here, it is in the bag with the item. Take the gift card back and give me my $200 back!”

Employee #2: “We can’t refund the gift card.”

Me: “WHAT?!”

Employee #2: “Don’t worry! You still have the $50 to use in the future at any stores or online.”

Me: “I don’t want the $50 gift card. I want my money back!”

Employee #2: “Well, we don’t do that, so it is not an option.”

(We went in a circle for almost fifteen minutes until I stormed out and called corporate. They seemed perplexed by the employee’s behavior and told me they were going to refund me and to just go ahead and keep the items. All’s well that ends well, I guess.)

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Microwave Results In A Micro-Transaction

, , , , , , | Working | February 7, 2019

I’m moving out of my studio apartment. The landlord has promised me he would come by on my last day there to inspect the place after it’s been emptied, but despite calling and texting him repeatedly, he never shows and never picks up or replies. The only message I get from him says I should leave the place unlocked for the team of workers he’s hired, who’ll be in first thing next morning to fix up the place to be rented out again. So, when leaving, I shut the door but leave it unlocked. It seems reasonable enough; in over two years of living there, I haven’t had any attempted break-ins or anyone even trying my door at night.

One of the few things I was provided was a small cheap microwave, which I am supposed to leave there and do so.

After waiting for three months for my security deposit check, never receiving it, having to involve the city’s tenant-landlord dispute resolution department, and being told my ex-landlord claims the check he “sent” — as he was strictly, legally obligated to within 30 days — got “lost in the mail,” it turns out the ex-landlord has decided to also deduct $50 from my deposit money for the microwave, which according to him wasn’t left in the apartment. This is the apartment that I left unlocked overnight on his instructions, which he refused to come to inspect, and which would have been swarmed and turned over by some unknown-to-me crew of workers first thing next morning; unsupervised, they could have done absolutely anything to the place and its contents.

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Famous Last Words

, , , , | Working | January 29, 2019

(This is a text conversation with my boss after a picky client has pushed their session two hours over its scheduled end.)

Boss: “‘We might be done early,’ is almost always code for, ‘We won’t be done early.’”

Me: “It’s the freelance equivalent of, ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’”

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Karma Can Be Jarring

, , , , , , | Romantic | January 24, 2019

(I’m over a friend’s house, hanging out with her, her husband, and their mutual friends who are also a husband and wife. The other husband is sort of a “macho” guy, someone who was a complete jock back in high school. My friend recently had to fix their backyard’s door. I’m not sure what they did, but it made it somewhat difficult to open, so you have to push on it harder than usual to get it to move. I visit often so I know how to open it already, but this is apparently the first time the other couple knew of the door change. I need to use the restroom, and the other husband notices me shouldering the door open.)

Husband: *laughing* “Did you seriously have to throw yourself against the door to get in?”

Me: “It’s hard to open!”

Friend’s Husband: “We recently fixed it so it’s, uh, sturdier now, to say the least.”

Husband: *condescending baby voice* “D’aw, so it’s too hard for the ‘wittle’ girl to get through now?”

Wife: “Don’t be an a**, [Husband].”

(I roll my eyes but ignore it for the most part. Though he’s not the type of guy I would’ve ever hung out with independently, I know they’re still friends of my friends, so I tolerate it. It’s not like he’s a real pain or anything, and I get along with the wife well enough. When I come back out, he makes another teasing remark, but we get over. Not much later, he gets up to use the restroom, as well. He’s not paying attention, still talking to the group as he walks up, turns the handle of the door, and completely smacks against the door mid-sentence.)

Husband: “What the f***?!”

(Naturally, the rest of us burst out laughing. There are even face smudges on the polished wood that he tries to rub away without success. His wife is practically in tears and is still getting bouts of giggles even after he returns. When he sits down, he makes eye contact with me, and he must see the mischievous twinkle in my eye because he holds out his hand to stop me.)

Husband: “No! Don’t. Not another word.”

Me: *grins* “I didn’t even say anything!”

(The wife’s fit of giggles starts up again. The night goes on, and eventually, it is time for the other couple to leave. As we are saying our goodbyes, the husband gives a “one moment” signal to his wife. He faces the door, puts his hand on the handle, turns it, and then practically RAMS into the door! While it’s difficult to open, it’s not THAT hard. He, of course, ends up barreling through as the door swings wide open, tripping and face-planting onto the inside carpeting.)

Friend: “Dude!”

Friend’s Husband: “Oh, Jesus.”

Wife & I: *bursts out laughing again*

(The guy’s not a lightweight when he drinks, and since he only had two or three beers, there was no explanation as to why he did this. Thankfully, his wife was driving, anyway. I haven’t seen them since, but my friend tells me that it’s a running joke that his wife opens the door for him now.)

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This Is Why Charities Can’t Do Nice Things

, , , , | Right | January 18, 2019

(I work for a coffee chain, and we regularly donate a large coffee carafe to local schools for events if the event is non-profit, and reserved ahead of time. One particular customer comes into the store asking for the carafe donation, which we gladly agree to, on the provision that she call again a week before the event so we can ensure she gets the coffee. She is delighted and leaves, and we don’t hear from her again for a full month. Then, out of the blue, she calls my boss.)

Customer: “Hi! My event is tonight, and I’m going to need the coffee donations.”

Boss: “Okay, but with such short notice, it might not be ready until after six pm.”

Customer: “But the event starts at seven!”

(My boss talks her off the hysterical ledge she has quickly reached and finalizes the details.)

Customer: “Oh, thank you so much! This will be great! So, we’ll just need them every night this week for the whole week, and it’ll be good.”

(She had mentioned one night only, and now was insisting on a week. Keep in mind this is something FREE that we are doing. My boss freaked and insisted that we needed them back the next day, as we had a corporate event at the end of the week. After much cajoling, the customer promised, slightly upset, and hung up. The next evening she called back, and reported that she wouldn’t be returning them until the following Monday, as she was “too busy.” No one was pleased.)

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