When The Act Is Just An Act

, , , , , | Working | September 16, 2019

I am a manager of a small bar and music venue. We mainly get local bands and DJs that are starting up and grateful for the exposure. I occasionally have to deal with rude or entitled idiots, but this one girl definitely stood out.

When she called me, she was initially nice enough, asking about schedules and costs for her DJ set; however, she started getting more difficult and clearly thinking she was more famous than she was, demanding I cancel other bands’ already booked slots and rearrange the lighting display to suit her. She also claimed that I would definitely want her as a regular and to clear a space in the weekly schedule, something we don’t do for outside performers. All of these were denied and I gave her one booking slot.

The day came and she arrived before any of the other acts, started looking around, and demanded I take down our in-house lights and buy new ones from this “eco-friendly” shop and that we move and rotate the — fixed — stage to face the outside light, as vitamins help you perform or something to that effect. She then said she needed other bands’ slots, as she’s a celebrity. She also mentioned her expected salary as a celebrity regular. I adamantly held my ground on her ridiculous demands. She hassled other people, as well, always introducing herself as “you know who I am” and trying to take performance slots. Just before the setup window ended and guests came in, she told me how all images of her were copyrighted and photos were not permitted. I just nodded and chuckled.

Her performance slot arrived and she arrived with a group to set up her (incredibly basic and cheap) DJ set, introduced herself as the most famous DJ in the area — to loads of confusion — and then started her set. It was by far the worst set I’d ever heard — random screeches, going from one genre to the next within seconds, and shouting over the top. Basically, imagine a toddler smashing random keys on a keyboard that’s randomly changing sounds, and crying over it. That would be better than her set was.

The whole time, her group of friends was approaching anyone who took out a phone and aggressively saying, “No pictures!” The hostility and terrible music drove most guests to the bar or tables, yet her friends still approached them and said, “No pictures,” even when they were clearly doing something else. After several complaints, I was forced to pull the plug on her and kick her out. Of course, she flipped out, saying the whole, “Do you know who I am?!” thing, as well as saying I didn’t appreciate her good music and that we would see her in every magazine, blah, blah, blah.

A few days later, my friend at another venue reiterated the same story to me and we concluded it was the same girl, so we checked her Twitter account. She had less than ten followers, some we recognized as her friends, and we discovered that she’d been banned from almost all music venues nearby due to her hostile attitude. 

Seriously, how can someone be so convinced of their own fame that they continue to put on such an act?

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Email Trail, Meet Vicious Cycle

, , , , | Working | September 16, 2019

Over the weekend, our email was migrated and on Monday, none of them were working except for two coworkers. Our team leader raised an incident report. On Tuesday, still no email.

After lunch, our team leader decided to check the incident board. The incident was closed.

Reason: “No response received on email.”

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Come For The Food, Stay For The Dementia

, , , , , | Working | September 16, 2019

My wife and I went to one of our favorite restaurants in town — favorite for the good food they made but not the service which was notoriously spotty.

We were seated right away by the manager who gave us menus, but no one came to take our order. After ten minutes and flagging down a waitress several times, “our” waitress finally came over to take our order. She was an older woman which, in my experience, usually meant we were going to get good service. Not this time.

She forgot to get our non-water drinks — ever, even after several reminders — never refilled our waters, didn’t bring us salads until after the main meals came, didn’t bring us dressing for the salads until after we’d finished the main meals, never stopped by to check on us unless we flagged her down for the previous stuff, and didn’t bring us our checks when we were done.

I finally got tired of waiting for the check — she hadn’t made another appearance after she brought out the dressings — and went up to the register. The manager was there and went off to fetch the check for us.

While he was ringing up our order on the register he asked if everything was okay. I rattled off the list of everything that was not okay and his response was: 

“Well, she is kind of old!”

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Not Too Chicken To Defend Themselves

, , , , , | Hopeless | September 14, 2019

As a kid, I had a flock of chickens that we tried to keep at 20 to 30 birds. We raised the birds for the eggs and for fun, so we took care of our sick and injured birds.

We bought two silkies — little puffball chickens — and they stuck together. One of the silkies, later named Frankenmonk — or Monk for short — ended up getting an eye infection and lost her eye around when she got a neck injury, so we put the two silkies in the garage while the one healed, and then returned them to the flock.

We didn’t know if Monk and Puff, the other silkie, were males or females as they are notoriously difficult to determine the gender on, but we knew that Puff took care of Monk. Wherever one was, the other was, too.

One day, one of our Rhode Island Red roosters — about four times the size of the silkies at the time — decided to breed with Monk, and as soon as he tried, Puff flung her body into the rooster, knocking him down. Puff and Monk then continued on their way as if nothing had happened.

In my six years of owning chickens, this is still one of my favorite memories.

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Thieves, Autism, Netflix, And Thongs

, , , , | Legal | September 14, 2019

A few years ago, while on my lunch break, I went to a nearby department store to pick up a few things. At the time, I had an iPhone 5C that had been part of a Black Friday promotion the year before. It was showing some usual wear and tear, but it was still a good phone and I had no plans to get a new one anytime soon. 

As I was checking out at the store, I placed my phone on the little credit card reader shelf directly in front of me to pay for my purchase. I looked up from the shelf long enough to answer a question from the cashier, and started to leave with everything of mine that I could see in front of me.

I’d barely made it out the door when I realized that my phone wasn’t where I’d left it on the shelf. A quick search confirmed it wasn’t in my pockets, my purse, or my shopping bag. I ran back into the store and went straight to the cashier to ask if she’d picked up my phone by accident. No luck. She let me use the store phone to call my own number to see if it had fallen beneath the register or something. It rang several times, then clicked off like calls do when someone hits the “ignore” button. I immediately called again, and this time it went straight to voicemail. Someone had turned my phone off. 

Needless to say, I was starting to panic — not because I’d paid a lot of money for the phone, since it was part of a promotion, but more so because I had my friend’s and family’s contact information in the phone, including some addresses. At the time, I didn’t have a lock code on the phone — a mistake I’ve never made again — so I knew this person could open it and view everything. Not to mention, the principle of the matter was that this was theft and it’s a horrible feeling knowing that another person has intentionally taken something that belongs to you. Luckily, I never used any banking or shopping apps so there was no account information they could see. 

I have to say, [Store] was amazing throughout this experience. The security team immediately started pulling camera footage and register data to give to the police. The store manager let me sit and calm down, and I used the store phone to call my work, my husband, the police to file a report, and my phone carrier to report the phone as stolen. They’d still be able to use the Wi-Fi on the phone, but at least they wouldn’t be able to make calls or use data on my dime.

I was honestly expecting to never see that phone again, but here is how incredibly stupid the woman who stole my phone was. 

1) She was clearly on camera. The camera was even visible from the register. She reached out at the one moment the cashier and I looked at each other, snatched my phone off the shelf, and threw it in her purse. 

2) She used a credit card to pay for her own stuff, so they had her name and an address registered with the card. 

3) When the police tracked her down, she first claimed she didn’t steal it. Then, when confronted with video and credit card data, she tried to blame it on her autistic daughter! Yes, she had a five- or six-year-old girl with her in the video, and she tried to say the girl took my phone and was “holding it” when they got to their car. How low is that?

4) We knew for a fact she still had my phone because she’d managed to open my Netflix app and was letting her daughter watch cartoons on my account. (I changed the password as soon as proof was sent to the officer handling my case).

5) When the police arrested her and got the phone back, they found hundreds of pictures she’d taken of herself, mostly making duck-faces in various bathrooms — why bathrooms?! — and a few raunchier ones of her in a thong showing her a**, etc., and audio recordings she’d made of phone conversations with a man, trying to find out why she wasn’t being allowed to see her other three children. The police were pretty interested in those recordings, but I don’t know what came of that since they didn’t pertain to my case.  

It’s still crazy to me when I remember all of this, which took place over about a month. Now, I always have a code lock on my phone and I’ve never put it down on that little shelf again.

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