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Sensitivity Isn’t Native To This Coworker

, , , , , , , , , | Working | December 4, 2021

I work for the TSA. Most of you don’t like that very much. I am terribly sorry for the things that cause our negative reputation. I know it’s well deserved. I really am sorry.

I personally need the health insurance very badly and appreciated the $22-per-hour starting wages — which have gone up since then — pretty well.

One of my coworkers is patting down a Native woman. The woman has two long braided lengths of hair. My coworker grabs the braids and makes a “giddyap” motion like one would do with reins on a horse and says, “Hu-ha! Giddyap, cowboy!”

They put the coworker on bin running for a few months and made her take a sensitivity class.

I still feel bad about this.

Some Landlords Just Aren’t Good Lords Over Their Land

, , , , , , , | Legal | December 1, 2021

Ages ago, before the Internet and cell phones, I shared an apartment with three of my buddies near the university we attended. When we first looked at the place, there were some obvious issues with the building itself and with the particular apartment we were looking at. We were assured that everything would be taken care of. Yes, we were naive.

The building supposedly was “secure” in that it had a lobby separated from the interior of the building by a locked door that could be opened by key or by a button in each apartment. There was a phone in the lobby that would ring the phone in an apartment if you entered the apartment number. The door worked as advertised except there was a missing glass panel in the lobby where, by ducking through the opening, you could get into the secured area. The phone also worked, but the phone numbers it rang were never updated, so entering our apartment number rang some poor folks who happened to have the number of whoever lived there years ago.

The first winter, we discovered that the fans on two of the three electric heaters didn’t work. We reported it to the superintendent (who lived across the hall from us) but it was never fixed. Eventually, we got them to work ourselves, but they were really noisy.  

The toilet tank leaked into the bowl which would then eventually flush after about an hour and repeat. Yeah, reported and not fixed, so I figured out how to replace the seal on my own.  

There was some damage to the walls and inside doors; one area looked like the previous tenants had a dartboard and were very bad at darts. That also was reported and then never fixed. There was cracked glass in some windows, there were doors that didn’t close properly, etc., etc. Always the same thing: reported and never fixed.

After about a year, the building was sold to a different company. This had no effect on any repairs.

Oh, remember that superintendent? One day, I came home from class and there was a big lock over their door handle and an eviction notice stapled to their door. I happened to have parked in front of the main window into their apartment, and the next morning I noticed it was broken and their stuff was all gone from their apartment. I guess they did a “midnight move”. This led to some confusion for a while as that is where we were supposed to drop off the rent.

Eventually, we all graduated and moved out. A while went by, and we were informed that we were not getting our security deposit back “because of the damage you did to the apartment”. Fortunately, we had documented everything, and the one guy who was still living nearby managed to get them to issue checks to each of us for our part of the security deposit.

And — drum roll — the checks were returned when we deposited them because the checking account had been closed — for quite some time as it turned out. Oh, well, they would issue new ones… if we stopped by their offices in person. They were open Monday through Friday, eight to five. As the individual amount was only just over $100, it was not worth it to take time off from work and drive there from my current living location, which I would guess was their plan all along.

A few years later, I read about the companies that had owned the building while I lived there. They had a scheme where they would sell their buildings to each other every so often which “reset the clock” on repairs that the city housing inspectors had ordered. From talking with other people who had lived in their other buildings, apparently ours was better than most, which is hard to believe. At least the city eventually caught on and changed things so their scheme didn’t work.

The last time I was in that neighborhood, the building was still there, and I was tempted to peek in the lobby and see if that glass panel was ever replaced.

Not The Boost You Were Expecting Today

, , , , , , | Working | October 31, 2021

It’s the start of flu season. Several grocery store chains are offering a $5 payment for getting flu vaccinated. I’m already vaccinated against the health crisis disease, but I figure I should get flu vaccinated, too; I work closely with people.

I decide to go to one of the pharmacies that’s offering a $5 gift card. The main desk has big placards that say, “Pickup,” “Dropoff,” and, “Information”. I wait in line for information.

When I reach the technician behind the desk:

Me: “I would like the flu vaccine.”

Employee #1: “All vaccine inquiries go to the window on the right.”

Sure enough, to the right, hidden behind some shelves that appear to be laden homeopathic medicines and such, is a little tiny archway window that looks like it’s somehow older than the whole rest of the building. For some reason, a small section of wall around that window, and only around that window, is made of red bricks. There’s a sign over the window that says, “Vaccine inquiries,” and there are information placards for both the [health crisis] vaccine and the flu vaccine.

There are three people in line in front of me. I wait my turn and then approach the desk.

Me: “Hello. I would like the flu vaccine, please.”

Employee #2: “Okay. Can I have your ID, a credit card, and your insurance card?”

I hand him my ID and insurance card as he presses a pile of documents on a clipboard toward me.

Employee #2: “Sign this.”

He turns his back on me to start entering information from my cards into the computer. I give the paperwork a quick read. It says, “[health crisis] vaccine.” Like a lot. In several places. It does not say, “flu vaccine,” in even one place.

Me: “Uh, sir?”

He seems busy. I wait. Finally, he turns to me

Employee #2: “Have you got it filled out yet?”

Me: “No, sir. It’s wrong. It says, ‘[health crisis] vaccine’ and I wanted the flu vaccine.”

Employee #2: “It’s fine. Just fill it out and sign it.”

Me: “Okay. And you’re sure this is going to be the flu vaccine?”

Employee #2: “Yes.”

Me: “Okay.”

So, I fill it out and sign it. I also scratch out “[Health Crisis]” and write “Flu” and then initial the change. This turns out to be important later.

He takes the paperwork from me and directs me towards a third area, hidden from the first two. This area has brown painted cinder-block walls and several doors in a small cupola waiting area. The sign over it simply says, “Treatment.”

Eventually, someone comes out of one of the doors. This man is different from the lab technician I had been speaking to earlier. He’s older for one, with a strong accent that makes it clear English is not his first language.

Employee #3: “You are here for the vaccine, yes?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Employee #3: “[My Name], yes?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Employee #3: “What is your birthday, yes?”

Me: “[Birthday], sir.”

Employee #3: “Very good. Come with me. We will get you vaccinated.”

I follow him through another door to a small room, almost the size of a broom closet, but much more brightly lit.

Employee #3: “You do not have any allergies to any medicines, no?”

Me: “No, sir, no allergies.”

Employee #3: “You have a wife?”

Me: “Yes, I do.”

Employee #3: “Good. She will be very happy that you are being safe. Please lift your sleeve. This will pinch a little. It will not hurt, no.”

He pokes my shoulder with the needle and injects it.

Employee #3: “Very good. Go to the ‘Vaccine Inquiries’ desk to schedule your second shot, yes.”

Me: “Second shot? I thought that the flu vaccine only needed one shot. Also, uh… How do I get my five dollars?”

Employee #3: “Flu vaccine? No, this is [health crisis] vaccine.”

Me: “I already got the [health crisis] vaccine. My insurance is going to deny a third shot.”

Employee #3: “Please take this matter to the ‘Information’ desk. I cannot help you with this.”

Me: “Okay.”

I go back to the Information desk. There’s a different person this time, a woman. I can’t see the man I spoke to earlier.

Me: “Hey, you gave me the [health crisis] shot, and I wanted the flu shot.”

She glances at my paperwork.

Employee #4: “It says, ‘[health crisis].’ Also, there were some issues with your payment.”

Me: “Please look closer at the paperwork, ma’am.” 

She looks closer and sees that I crossed out “[health crisis]” and wrote “flu.”

Employee #4: “I can’t accept this paperwork; it’s been altered. Do you have any paperwork that hasn’t been altered?”

Me: “I feel like maybe I should be the one asking you that, ma’am. Can I get whatever charges you’ve made on my card canceled and get the flu vaccine I asked for, please?”

Employee #4: *Pauses* “One moment, sir, while I go get a manager.”

Me: “Thank you.”

The manager comes out and looks at the paperwork. He talks with the lady and with the employee who gave me the shot. Then, he looks at the paperwork again and starts typing on the computer. He doesn’t ask me any questions. Finally, he walks up to the front desk.

Manager: “Sir, I’ve refunded the charges against your card because it was our error. Do you still want the flu shot with us?”

Me: “No offense, sir, but I think I will be going elsewhere. Thank you very much for your assistance. I’m very glad it’s fixed. But I just want to go home now. I think I will try again elsewhere tomorrow.”

I went home and checked my bank statement. Sure enough, they had tried to charge me and then canceled the transaction. The next day, I went to a different grocery store pharmacy that was offering $5 for the flu vaccine. This time, it went very smoothly.

An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 14

, , , , , , | Right | August 21, 2021

I am waiting at the gate to board a flight home after vacation. Between groups, families with small children are allowed to board. This is during a federal mask mandate for all persons two and up flying.

Gate Attendant: “How old is your child?”

Parent: “Two.”

Gate Attendant: “I’m sorry, but she needs a mask; it’s a federal requirement.”

Parent: “We have one in our bag. She has a pacifier.”

Gate Attendant: “I’m sorry, she has to be wearing a mask.”

Parent: “She’s one and a half.”

Gate Attendant: “I won’t be able to allow you to fly. I can get a supervisor—”

Parents: “No other flight has made us do that. It’s ridiculous!”

Gate Attendant: “It’s a federal rule, I’m sorry. You won’t be able to fly if she isn’t wearing a mask.”

The parents protest while angrily putting a mask on their child, doing so in a manner that makes the child start wailing. Finally, it’s my turn to board (masked). 

Me: “Thank you for doing your job.”

Gate Attendant: “I’m just following the rules!”

I felt horribly for her. How hard is it to follow a nationwide federal mandate that has played over the speakers every fifteen minutes? And in what world does a pacifier replace a face mask?!

Related:
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 13
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 12
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 11
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 10
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 9

Will Call You In The Future

, , , , , | Right | June 8, 2021

On the IRS website, you can track the status of your tax return. At our office, we often will do so for clients who call in.

It is the last day of tax season. If the call is not about setting up an appointment or providing details about a return in progress, the policy is to tell them we can’t help them. A woman calls in.

Caller: “I need you to help me look up my refund and when it will arrive.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, we can’t do this on the last day, but I’ll be more than happy to do so tomorrow.”

Caller: “I already paid you for my taxes, and it’s my money, so you d*** well better look it up for me!”

Me: “I’m afraid we cannot, and we do not have the tools or resources.”

Caller: “Manager.”

Me: “The manager is busy with someone else but I can put you on hold and they will get to you.”

She hangs up before the manager can get to that line forty-five minutes later — we are VERY busy — and calls back an hour after that. I recognize her voice and repeat that we can’t help her get her refund status.

Caller: “How can you even know what I want if I ain’t even told you my name yet?”

Me: “Because I’m psychic.”

Caller: “Well, Mr. Psychic Man, I want you doing my taxes next year.”

Me: “Very well. What’s your name, so I can make sure you get an appointment with me?”

Caller: “You’re the psychic. Figure it out.” *Click*

I laughed about that for a good while after.