Drawing A Terrifying Conclusion

, , , , , | Related | March 17, 2019

(I’m about four years old in this story. My mom is out shopping, so my dad’s in charge of watching me. I decide to draw in my room, and as I’m a relatively quiet child my dad doesn’t think much of it and starts watching TV. Sometime later, he sees me toddle over to the bathroom. When I don’t come out for several minutes, he comes to investigate… and finds me doodling on the wall.)

Dad: “[My Name], why are you drawing on the bathroom wall?”

Me: *nonchalantly* “I ran out of space in my room.”

(My father rushed to my room to find that, yes, I’d run out of drawing paper and scribbled all over my bedroom walls. After getting it cleaned up, my parents told me to ask for more paper if I ran out again, and taped a few sheets to my walls just in case. Moral of the story: never, ever trust a quiet toddler.)

They’re Terrorizing Themselves

, , , , , | Working | March 15, 2019

(A few months ago, a series of gas explosions rocked an area to the north of Boston. Several homes were damaged or destroyed, though injuries were thankfully low. My coworker lives in one of the towns affected and was evacuated in the early morning, and is thus unable to come into the office, so I’ve been providing cover for her. We work as faculty assistants. A woman from another department in the school calls to set up a meeting with one of my colleague’s professors.)

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t have access to that professor’s calendar. If it’s for something urgent, I can try to catch him in person today?”

Caller: “I think it can wait. Do you know when [Coworker] will be back in?”

Me: “Unfortunately, no. She lives up in [Town affected], so she’s displaced right now and it’s too early to know when she’ll be allowed back into her house.”

Caller: “Goodness, that’s awful!”

Me: “Yeah. Thank God, her house wasn’t one of the ones that blew, but it’s such a scary thing!”

Caller: “It’s terrible, just terrible! And I haven’t heard anything about how it happened, but it must have been terrorism, right?”

Me: “Um, I’m not sure about that—“

Caller: “It had to be! What else could it be?”

Me: “Well, I think I saw something about how they were doing maintenance—“

Caller: “Oh, they’ll say anything now. It’s just a cover-up! It had to be terrorists; that’s the only thing that makes sense!”

Me: “Right. Sure… So, why don’t you email [Professor], and CC me and [Coworker], and hopefully we’ll get this scheduled.”

(Why on earth terrorists would want to target an insignificant residential area thirty miles from the nearest city is beyond me, but she wasn’t the only one to jump to that conclusion!)

No One Is Inspecting Those Excuses

, , , , | Working | March 14, 2019

It was nearing the end of the month, and as usual, I had put off getting my car’s yearly state inspection until the last week. The only time that I didn’t work when my preferred shop was open was a Friday afternoon, two days prior to the end of the month. I had conveniently made an appointment earlier that week on their online portal requesting a state inspection and oil change for Friday afternoon explaining that if I wasn’t able to, could they please let me know so I could make arrangements elsewhere. They responded saying it was fine and confirmed my appointment.

The day of, I drove to the shop, checked in, and handed over my keys and registration. I sat at one of their tables somewhat close to the desk, so I was still able to hear almost everything they were saying. I had brought my homework and was studying when I heard them tell a young man who came in that the state inspector wasn’t in for the day because he had to go to the hospital. I began to slightly panic and started looking up other shops in the area, but none were open on the weekends.

I went back to my work and heard them turn away another customer for a sticker, and another, and another, and another… Oh, no. I understand not having someone available when things happen unexpectedly, but why hadn’t anyone told me when I checked in?

When it was quiet, the woman who had checked me in asked if I had heard what she was saying. I nodded, and she told me that the inspector was indeed in and fine, but it was so busy due to another mechanic breaking his hand and going to the hospital that she had to turn away anyone looking for a sticker who didn’t have an appointment. I was relieved, and for the next couple walk-ins that were turned away, I had a slight smile of relief on my face.

This Caller Has Been Band

, , , , , | Working | March 6, 2019

I am in my university’s marching band and am in the middle of an indoor practice. There are close to four hundred of us in the band so it can get pretty loud.

I have my phone out on my music stand and notice that an unfamiliar number, similar to ones that have been telemarketers in the past, is calling me in the middle of a song.

During a rest, I hit the answer button, and then go back to playing my part. After a few seconds on the line, the telemarketer hangs up.

Living Luxuriously Can Be Taxing

, , , , | Right | March 2, 2019

(I work at a high-end fast fashion retailer in downtown Boston. I answer the phone.)

Me: “Thanks for calling [Store].”

Caller: “Do you have winter coats?”

Me: “Yes.”

Caller: “What are they made of?”

Me: “What are you looking for?”

Caller: “Corduroy.”

Me: “We have a cord blazer.”

Caller: “How much is it?”

Me: “$198.”

Caller: “No tax?”

Me: “It’s 6.25% on the amount above $175.”

Caller: “I thought clothes were tax-free in Massachusetts?”

Me: “It’s a luxury tax on the amount above $175.”

Caller: “Oh. What about food?”

Me: “I don’t know; I’m not in the food service industry.”

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