Caller: “I need copies of my statements! I need them right away. How do I access them?”
Me: “Are you set up to receive your statements electronically, sir?”
Caller: “Yes, I am. Since November of 2015, I think it was.”
Me: “Then you’re already receiving your statements by email as a PDF attachment.”
Caller: “I get my statements, I look at them, and then I move them to the trash folder. Then, my trash folder empties. I need the statements for my taxes!”
Me: “…”
(I am checking in with my union. After confirming my identity, the clerk tells me my membership has been temporarily frozen due to debt. Note that during the whole interaction her demeanor is serious and calm, no smirk or frown to show she thinks anything is weird.)
Clerk: “Uh-oh! You’re in arrears on your dues!”
Me: “Aw. How did that happen? I remember paying three months’ worth just a month ago.”
Clerk: “Ah, that explains why you have a credit of [$$] on your file. Would you like me to take what you owe out of the credit?”
Me: “Yes, please.”
(How can a single account have both too much and too little money on it at the same time?)
(“The Passion Of The Christ” has just come out. I’m discussing it with my coworkers.)
Coworker: “Was it any good?”
Me: “Typical horror movie ending. You think the guy’s dead, but he’s not.”
Christian Coworker: “I’d be mad, but that was actually pretty funny.”
(I was diagnosed with prosopagnosia, which is a disorder which makes it all but impossible to recognize faces, when I was about eight years old. I’ve learned to use ears or hair or necks along with types of clothing people wear to know who they are. After a few years of landing a job with a dream company of mine, where I’m on the phone and not doing any face-to-face with customers, we get a department transfer to my department. For some reason, I get the feeling he doesn’t like me because he’s always very brisk with me and never really says, “Hello.” While I’m friendly and easy to get along with, I don’t generally have a lot of time to chat with my coworkers, but when passing through I might quick small-chat with them if I notice something interesting on their desk, a nice new outfit, or if they catch me and want to know about how my days off were or the like. One day, I’m suddenly called into the office for a meeting with Human Resources. I have absolutely no idea what I could have possibly done and am ready to defend myself against any possible customer complaint. When I get there, the HR manager tells me who she is, as I’ve only had very limited exposure to her, and seated next to me is the guy who transferred to our department about a month earlier. I’m told I was brought in because the transfer felt I didn’t like him and had some kind of vendetta against him. Completely caught off-guard, I adamantly tell both of them I have no idea what they are talking about.)
New Guy: “I know you don’t like me because before I transferred over you had filled out a ‘coaching form’ for something I did wrong, and ever since I transferred over, anytime you see me you just stare at me in disgust.”
Me: “I stare at you in disgust?”
New Guy: “Yes! Anytime I walk by you, you’re staring at me like I’m from outer space or something! It’s because I’m Chinese! I find it offensive and racist!”
(I hear a bit of thunk, and look over to see the HR manager dropping back in her chair, putting a hand over her face and slumping a bit.)
HR Manager: “[New Guy], what do you know about [My Name]?”
New Guy: “What do you mean? I’m not interested in learning that much about someone who hates me because I’m Chinese!”
Me: “What she means is, I have a disorder that makes it hard for me to know who I’m looking at. I literally cannot tell people apart by their faces. I’m staring at you because you’re new to my department. I am looking at you because I’m trying to figure out who you are every day. You wear the same type of clothing as [Supervisor], have the same skin tone as [Supervisor], are the same height as [Supervisor], and have the same large muscle mass as [Supervisor]. You come in wearing a heavy jacket like [Supervisor] and I don’t want to say, ‘Hey, [Supervisor]! I have a question,’ and it’s you, or vice-versa. I’m looking at you like you’re from outer space because… well… everyone looks like that to me.”
(It’s dead silent for what feels like an eternity, but couldn’t be more than a couple of seconds in real time.)
New Guy: “I… Is that real?”
(The HR manager starts is nodding her head rapidly.)
Me: “Extremely rare, but very real. I have to use other means to know who I’m talking to. [HR Manager] knows about it because I let her know before I was hired. It’s actually why she said exactly who she was; I can’t tell who she is, even though we’ve spoken a few times.”
New Guy: “I’m really… really sorry. I had no idea. Really, I had no idea. I guess that’s why people thought I was odd for saying [My Name] didn’t like me.”
HR Manager: “Sooooo… is everything okay, then? We all good?”
Me: “I’m fine as long as [New Guy] is!”
New Guy: “As long as there are no grudges, yeah, I’m okay.”
Me: “I don’t hold grudges; don’t worry. Hey! If you see me staring and say like, ‘Donut!’ or something silly, I’ll always know it’s you!”
(Both the HR manager and he started laughing and we dismissed the meeting. Anytime he walks by now, he goes, “Lollipop!” so I always know who it is and say hello with his name after chuckling.)
(I work for a municipality answering the information line. I pick up the phone and give the standard phone greeting for our city.)
Older Woman: “I need the phone number for [Garbage Pickup Company]!”
Me: “Well, that company doesn’t sound familiar; they don’t pick up garbage for us.”
Older Woman: “NO! I live in [Small Town about half an hour away] and they didn’t pick up my garbage! I need their phone number!”
Me: “Okay, we only look after garbage pickup in [City], but let me look up the number for you.” *starts typing*
Older Woman: “HELLO?”
Me: “Yes, I am just looking the number up. It’s 35—“
Older Woman: “NO! That’s long distance; I need a local number!”
Me: “Well, that is the only number listed for them.”
Older Woman: “THAT WON’T WORK! GIVE ME A LOCAL NUMBER!”
Me: “Sorry, I don’t have any other phone numbers for them.”
Older Woman: “Well, then, give me the number for your local garbage company. They will have it!”
Me: “I am not sure that our local company will have a phone number for a company an hour away…”
Older Woman: “I SAID GIVE ME THE LOCAL COMPANY!”
Me: “All right, but I am not sure if they will be able to help you.”
Older Woman: “GOOD! Now was that so hard?”
Me: “No?” *thinking* “YES!”
