Right Working Romantic Related Learning Friendly Healthy Legal Inspirational Unfiltered

Drunk, Malevolent, Or Vapid?

, , , , , | Working | May 19, 2020

I recently moved to New Hampshire so I go to the DMV to apply for a new driver’s license. After filling out all the proper paperwork, making sure I have proof of residency and blood type and mother’s dog’s maiden name, and waiting in line for the typical ninety minutes, I finally get to the counter.

The woman behind the desk looks through all my papers, and everything seems to be in order, until:

Clerk: “Okay, can you just review all the info on that screen and confirm that everything is correct?”

I look at the first line.

Me: “Uh… actually, there’s a problem. My address isn’t correct.”

The clerk seems slightly offended that I’m accusing her of entering in my info wrong.

Clerk: “What’s wrong with it?”

Me: “The street number is supposed to be 25. It says 75 here.”

The clerk looks at the forms I filled out.

Clerk: “Oh. That looks like a 7 to me.”

She says this despite the fact that the other documents I had given her, including a lease agreement and an electric bill, all confirmed it should be 25.

Clerk: “Okay, so, everything else is correct?”

I look at the second line.

Me: “Uh… nope. My birthday is [date], and this says [different date].”

Clerk: “Seriously?”

The clerk sighs and then goes to correct all of the info on the computer.

Clerk: “Oh, I guess I need manager authorization to change the birth date. Hold on one second.”

A manager comes over and authorizes the birth date change and gets my temporary license printed.

Manager: “Okay, you’re all set! We just need to take your old [Other State] license away. You can’t have both at the same time.”

I have never heard of this before, but it seems to make sense, so I comply.

Manager: “Your new license will arrive within sixty days. Have a nice day!”

About a week later, I go to a local specialty store and attempt to buy alcohol. As I have not yet received my permanent license, I hand the cashier my temp license.

Cashier: “Oh, I’m so sorry, but we can’t accept temp IDs here. Can I just see your old license to confirm your age?”

Me: “Oh, I don’t have it anymore. The DMV took it away when I applied for my new one.”

Cashier: “What? That’s odd; they usually just punch a hole in it so it’s not valid on its own, but so you can still use it to confirm everything on your temp one. I’ve never heard of them taking it away!”

Me: “Yeah. Me, neither.”

I don’t get any wine that day.

After that, about a month and half goes by and I still have not received my new license. I am getting very concerned as it has never taken me this long to receive a new ID in the past, and my temp one is almost set to expire. I am worried it got sent to the wrong address, so I even try going to number 75 on my street to see if they received it by mistake, but they are never home when I go.

Finally, I give in and call the DMV.

Me: “Hi. I still haven’t received my new driver’s license, and my temporary one is going to expire in about a week and a half. I’m worried it might have been sent to the wrong address, because my address was entered incorrectly the first time.”

Support #1: “Okay, can I have your name and address?”

I give them to her.

Support #1: “All right, I see your application right here, and it looks like all your info is correct but the license just hasn’t been printed or sent yet. If it doesn’t come by [date next week], call us again and we will expedite it to you.”

Sure enough, a week goes by and still no license. I call the DMV again.

Me: “Hi. I called last week to say that my license hadn’t come in yet and was told to call back today if that was still the case and you would expedite it to me.”

Support #2: “Okay, can I have your name, please?”

I give it to her.

Support #2: “Okay… Huh, I can’t seem to find you. Is it [Different First Name]?”

Me: “Nope, [My Name].”

Support #2: “Okay, let’s try your social.”

I give her that.

Support #2: “Nope… Birth date?”

I give her that.

Support #2: “Huh. All right, what is the number on your temp license?”

I give her that.

Support #2: “Wait, your license number is [number] but your birth date is [date]? That doesn’t make sense. The number is based on your last name and birth date.”

Me: “Well, the woman who took my info at the DMV office entered my birthday incorrectly the first time…”

Support #2: “Ohh… Okay, I think I know what happened, then. Let me just look into this further.”

She puts me on hold for about fifteen minutes.

Support #2: “I just confirmed with my supervisor. There cannot be a license account with more than one birthdate. If the date is changed, our system completely erases the old application. The clerk should have reentered all of your info in a new application and retaken your picture. She basically deleted your application when she made the change.

“Here’s what I can do for you: if you can get back to the DMV this afternoon, I will tell them to let you go straight to the front of the line. Make sure you bring in all the paperwork you had last time, and we will expedite a new license to you within two business days. I am sorry for all of the inconvenience this has caused!”

This last support person was very helpful and, true to her word, I was let up to the front of the line when I got to the DMV office. However, I don’t know what bothers me more: the fact that the original clerk AND her manager made so many fumbles with handling my application and didn’t know that the mistake would completely erase all my info, or the fact that it seems the first phone support person blatantly LIED to me saying she saw that my application was in process. 

Bonus: my new license finally arrived, no less than a month later.

1 Thumbs

This Whole Neighborhood’s Going To The Dogs!

, , , , , | Related | May 13, 2020

I’m about seven years old in this story. As I’m getting off the school bus, a random dog decides he wants to follow me. I try shooing him off, but he just refuses to go away. Not really knowing what to do, and worrying about what might happen if this dog sees my cat, I decide to try and get my dad’s attention in the hopes that he’ll know what to do.

Our house has a screen door just outside the front door, so rather than risk letting the dog inside, I bang on the screen door as loud as I can. My dad opens the front door and I tell him, “We have a problem.”

Before I can say anything else, he opens the screen door to see what the “problem” is. Naturally, our cat is literally right behind him.

The dog immediately chases our cat through the kitchen, into the living room, up over the couch, and back into the kitchen. Dad grabs some of his fireplace tools and uses them to haul the dog back out the door, while our poor cat bolts upstairs. After he’s gotten the door shut again, I quietly point out that there was a reason I hadn’t opened the door.

We didn’t see our cat until sometime the next day; judging by the soot on her fur she’d somehow hidden herself in the attic through the night. Can’t blame her, honestly.

1 Thumbs

The Teacher Isn’t The Smartest Cookie, But She Sure Is Sweet

, , , , , | Learning | May 5, 2020

I am a teaching assistant in an elementary school. My name is extremely uncommon and also happens to be spelled almost exactly like a popular cookie brand. I’m used to people joking about it and don’t really mind.

A few days before classes start, all the faculty meet at the school for orientation, and afterward, I spend a few hours helping my partner teacher set up the classroom.

Teacher: “So, how do you pronounce your name?”

Me: “[My Name].”

Teacher: “Okay, gotcha. Good thing you have a name tag!”

Me: “Yeah, I feel like many of the younger kids will have trouble pronouncing it, but it’s fine.”

On the first day of school…

Teacher: “Welcome, class! My name is Mrs. [Teacher], and this is Ms. [Cookie Brand].”

Me: “Actually, it’s Ms. [My Name].”

Teacher: “Whoops! Sorry about that.”

Day two…

Teacher: “Ms. [Cookie Brand], can you please collect these papers?”

Me: “Sure. But it’s Ms. [My Name].”

Teacher: “Right! Sorry, sorry. I’ll remember that.”

Day three…

Teacher: “It’s time to line up for recess! Please form a neat line behind Ms. [Cookie Brand].”

Students: “It’s Ms. [My Name]!”

Teacher: “Oh, no. I got it wrong again, didn’t I?”

I thought it was pretty hilarious, but the teacher honestly felt bad that she kept messing up my name. The next week, she brought me a bag of those cookies, but she had covered the brand name with masking tape and written the correct spelling of my name in all caps. Most people who mess up my name just keep saying it incorrectly, but she made a huge effort to use the correct pronunciation after that.

1 Thumbs

Brace Yourself For Inconsiderate Customers

, , , , | Right | April 28, 2020

It’s the mid-1990s. I’m a young, female employee. I have recently fallen in the kitchen and have seriously damaged my knee. As a result, I am in a brace that goes from hip to ankle, locking my knee straight. It goes on the outside of my clothing and fastens with about eight three-inch wide Velcro strips. Getting in and out of it is a process, and with my injuries, I need space to get in and out of the brace in order to use the facilities, as well as the bars for support.

As such, I am in the bathroom, making use of the handicapped stall, when the following occurs. I am removing the brace with a great deal of loud, velcro-ripping sounds. While I normally feel a bit guilty for making use of the handicapped stall, for the first time in my life I feel justified. Just as I get the last velcro free, someone starts POUNDING on the stall door. 

Me: “One moment!”

I hear a huff from the other side of the door. I do what I need to do in a hurry, while this person POUNDS periodically on the door. I try to hurry with getting the velcro fasteners back on, but I can only move so fast and getting them right takes fiddling. 

Still, the pounding continues. I finally pop out the stall door to find this old woman in a wheelchair glaring at me. Upon seeing me, she snaps.

Old Woman: “Are you handicapped?!”

Speechless, I sort of waved at my braced leg and tried to get out of the way as she shoved past.  Once out, she complained to my manager about me. Luckily, he told me not to worry about it; I was in the right!

1 Thumbs

Sweet Lies

, , , | Right | April 16, 2020

I’m standing behind the register at a candy store, keeping an eye on the store, when a man storms in and heads right for me.

Customer: “You hit my son!”

Me: “What?!”

Customer: “You hit my son!

Me: “Did not.”

Customer: “Don’t lie!”

Me: “When did this even happen?”

Customer: “Two hours ago!”

Me: “Two hours?! Why didn’t you say anything two hours ago, then?!”

Customer: “I wasn’t here! My wife saw you hit our son!”

I spend the next few minutes doing my best to express that his claim is utter bulls*** without actually using the word “bulls***.” Just as I’m preparing to call the manager to ask how I can check the store’s security footage, the man abruptly gives up, but not before putting in one parting shot.

Customer: “Do you have any kids?”

Me: “No. I’m too young.”

Customer: “OBVIOUSLY!”

He stormed out, and that’s the last I ever heard from him. I can only guess that he was trying to scam candy or money out of us, but I don’t know how he thought he could accomplish that by accusing an employee of assaulting a minor.

1 Thumbs