Hell-oumi

, , , , , | Working | October 6, 2017

My friends and I went to a pub for a meal, as the boys wanted somewhere they could also watch the football while eating. The pub had a new menu out, and I ordered a grilled halloumi salad that sounded nice, but asked for no tomatoes.

The first time the salad came out, it had lots of tomatoes, had ingredients that weren’t even in the description, and the halloumi wasn’t grilled. I sent it back, telling them what was wrong. The second time, the tomatoes were gone, to be replaced by raw onions, which I don’t like either. Again, the onions weren’t in the menu description. The halloumi still wasn’t cooked. I sent it back yet again. By this point, everyone in the table was eating and enjoying their food, and I was so hungry I was picking off their plates. The third time the salad came, the halloumi was half-cooked, and the salad consisted of leaves and a few cucumbers. I was incensed; the poor waiter could see that and offered me something else off the menu. I opted for a hunter’s chicken, which is chicken, cheese, and bacon smothered in barbeque sauce. It came with chips and salad.

It was now over an hour since we ordered. I was ready to gnaw off my hand due to hunger, everybody had finished their food, and I had work in half an hour. When my plate came, the chicken was rubbery, the bacon was half-cooked, and the chips were soggy and cold. The kicker? There were tomatoes in my salad.

Your Account And Thermometer Are In The Red

, , , , , , , , | Working | October 6, 2017

I worked at a franchise location of a sandwich shop that was owned by a husband and wife who were notoriously cheap.

In early July, right after Independence Day, the air conditioning broke and they priced it out to be a $300-500 repair. They decided that because summer was “almost over” we should suck it up, and they would fix it in the autumn or winter when they could get a better rate.

The weather continued to get hotter and more humid. On several occasions, my coworkers had to leave shifts early because of heat sickness. It was regularly over 90 degrees, and with the bread ovens going, we were left working with sweat dripping down our faces, pools of sweat under our armpits, and our shirts sticking to our backs. We made a point of babysitting each other to watch for signs of dehydration and to remind each other to drink water.

Then, the freezer stopped working; we lost several hundreds of dollars of frozen stock because the freezer broke from running too hard. The icemaker in the soda fountain broke. Then, one of our service fridges. In order to serve customers, we had to walk back and forth from the prep room for sandwich meats. Then, the toaster oven overheated. One of my coworkers finally actually passed out on shift one afternoon, and my bosses were pissed that I was called in to cover her, because I ended up with overtime. Customers stopped coming into the building because of the oppressive heat.

By September, my bosses were out several thousand in repairs, stock replacement, and new equipment, all because they wanted to pinch a few pennies.

Make Love, Not Warcraft, Fifth Expansion

, , , , , , , | Romantic | October 5, 2017

I am 18, and have a boyfriend who is addicted to World of Warcraft. Sometimes his addiction gets the better of him.

We are standing in the kitchen talking about something, and in the middle of my sentence, he leaves the kitchen and walks into our bedroom, where the computer is, where he proceeds to sit for about ten minutes.

He then comes out, and asks if I had been saying something before he left the kitchen.

It turns out he had gotten an idea about WoW, and had to go play it right that second. He hadn’t even heard a word I said.

Grilling Yourself For The Right Word

, , , , , | Working | October 5, 2017

The restaurant I’m going to has an app that lets you order a meal ahead of time to be picked up. Before I leave for the restaurant, I order a pasta dish with chicken added to it on the app. A minute later, I get a phone call from the restaurant, and a flustered employee tells me, “The, uh… the machine that makes the chicken is down.”

I change my order to have meatballs instead. On my way to the restaurant, I’m wondering what “the machine that makes the chicken” is. A meat slicer, maybe? When I get there, I see approximately five signs warning me that they cannot make any pot-stickers or chicken because a particular piece of equipment is broken.

It’s the grill. The word she was looking for was “grill.” She must have been having a rough day.

I Have A Hel-sinking Feeling About This

, , , , , | Working | October 4, 2017

I’m going to Finland to spend a year, and am a bit nervous about travelling by plane as I have had bad experiences with airports in the last few years. My flights are supposed to be Montreal to Frankfurt to Helsinki, booked with [Carrier #1]. Upon arriving at the airport, I am informed that the second flight is cancelled, as [Carrier #2] operating that leg is on strike.

I queue for customer service with [Carrier #1] with everyone else to get rerouted. For some reason, the man who redirects me chooses a flight from Montreal to Toronto, then to London, then to Helsinki, while he just told his colleague that there are still seats available on a more direct flight through London. As I’m already tired, I don’t argue. The last flight is operated by [Carrier #3]. I make sure that the $50 fee for the second suitcase I’m checking in is paid for.

It’s the middle of February, in Canada, so the plane leaves two hours late to have the wings de-iced, making me miss the connection in Toronto towards London. Customer service there, still [Carrier #1], puts me on a flight the next day, past 6:00 pm, rearranges the flight after, and gives me vouchers for a hotel room and meals. I go to the baggage claim, where the man tells me not to worry about my luggage, which they will keep, and gives me a free bag of toiletries to use at the hotel.

The next day, I return to the baggage claim, where I’m given a paper and assured that it’ll allow my luggage to be forwarded along my new flights. The check-in clerk is dubious, but ends up confirming it. The plane is again late to de-ice the wings, and there is a minor medical emergency a few seats ahead of mine, which has all the lights on for the whole overnight flight.

I end up missing the flight leaving from London, but there is another a bit later in the day with [Carrier #3], so there is no worry. I go through security, then go to [Carrier #3] customer service to arrange the next flight.

The man there is a bit confused, and tells me after a few verifications that [Carrier #3] does not have an agreement with [Carrier #1] to emit tickets for their flights, which somehow neither the customer service in Montreal nor in Toronto caught. Having not slept much, I’m appalled, and am redirected to [Carrier #1].

They arrange for me to get on a flight with [Carrier #4] with whom they do have an agreement, and I go to check in. The gruff man there processes things without a word, until he asks me for a 50£ fee for my second suitcase. I argue that I already paid for that back in Montreal, but he says that they don’t have the money. Angry and exhausted, I pay.

While waiting for my flight, I locate an Internet terminal and go on to check my emails. There, time-stamped approximately at the moment I was midway over the Atlantic, sits an email from my dad, informing me that he just got a call from the Toronto airport, asking what they should be doing with my luggage. In his hesitant, second-language English, he managed to make them understand that they should be forwarding it to Helsinki, and not return them to Montreal.

I am lucky to only arrive a day late at my destination. The £50 charge never appears on my credit card statement, and the luggage makes it all the way to my destination, intact, two days later. And all the other flights since have been smooth, thankfully!