A Disconnect Between The Paperwork And The Cable Guy

, , , , , | Working | August 14, 2018

(We are going through a financial tight time. One of the ways to cut back is the cable. It’s 2005, so we still have the analog — no receiver needed — service and the digital — receiver needed — service. By talking with a sales agent, we conclude that keeping the digital service only, with one receiver, is cheaper with more channels than keeping the analog service. I do know that they will have to come and install a trap, a filter, to prevent us from cheating and using the analog signal in other rooms. I usually don’t lunch at home, but I live and work in a small village with roughly ten minutes’ walking distance between the two. My girlfriend is out of work, so today I decide to go have lunch at home. Lo and behold, that day, during lunchtime, there’s a service truck from the cable company that stops in front of the house. We’re watching the living room TV from the kitchen. The tech gets his ladder, and climbs the post in front of our house. We get disconnected. I’m thinking, “He’s installing the trap,” but then, he gets down and puts his ladder back on the truck. I get out to confront him.)

Me: “Hi. You disconnected our cable?”

Cable Guy: “Yes. That’s what I had to do.”

Me: “That’s not supposed to be so. We switched to digital only. You should install a trap for the analog signal, not cut us off.”

Cable Guy: *in an annoyed tone, taking his worksheet* “Listen. That’s not my problem. I have it right here. See? I need to dis– Oh… I have to install a trap… Sorry, I’ll get right on it.”

(I go back inside to finish my lunch. He puts his ladder against the post, climbs up, gets down, removes his ladder. We still have no signal. I run out again.)

Me: “Excuse me, but we have no signal.”

Cable Guy: “Can’t be, I just replugged you.”

Me: “I don’t know what to say. I have no signal. Can you check it out?”

(He grumbles and takes his ladder again. I go back inside and turn my forty-inch rear-projection TV towards the window. He climbs up, gets down, gets in his truck, gets back up again, and poof! We have signal. Since it is time for me to go back to work, I walk out and talk to him as he is putting his ladder back to his truck — for the third time.)

Me: “So, what was the problem?”

Cable Guy: “Oh. The center pin broke off. I had to redo the connector.”

Me: “Well, heck of a good thing I happened to be there today. And please, for your next customer, take the time to read your work order properly, and ensure the job is well done before leaving? It would have been h*** to figure out what went wrong with our cable, if I hadn’t been here. Have a good day.”

(I waved my girlfriend goodbye, showing him at the same time that she was watching him.)

Home, Home On The (Price) Range

, , , , , | Related | July 25, 2018

(I am a student in my early 20s with a part-time job. My mum is not a student and has had a full-time job for many years. We are both looking for apartments.)

Mum: “I saw a lot of ‘for rent’ signs on [Street]! It’s such a good area; there are so many shops nearby, and there’s a park a short walk away… You should check it out!”

Me: “Um… Why don’t you check them out?”

Mum: “Oh, they’re not in my price range.”

Me: “And you think they’ll be in my price range?”

Let Me Educate You On Politeness

, , , , , | Right | July 20, 2018

(While the company I work for is country-wide, customer service is mostly province-based, so as customer service agents, we normally don’t deal with calls from or about a province outside our own. A guy from one of our suppliers calls the English-speaking line, but speaks to me in French.)

Caller: “Hi, could you transfer me to the service line closest to Mississauga?”

(That’s in Ontario. Unfamiliar with that particular city, or where it is exactly, I try to deduce which center would be closest.)

Me: “Is that near Ottawa?”

(He speaks French and reached the Quebec line, so I think he might be based near the capital, which is very bilingual and close to the provincial border.)

Caller: *laughs* “That’s kind of right next to Toronto! My brother used to be minister for the education; guess he did his job wrong!”

Me: *silent and unimpressed, looking for the right number to transfer him*

Caller: *after a moment not awkward enough for how rude he just was* “Well, it’s a beautiful place.”

Me: “I’m sure it is. Let me put you on hold to transfer you.”

(I’m guessing he didn’t realize he had gotten a line in another province, but it was still incredibly rude. I got a call from a different guy from the same supplier right after, and he was super pleasant.)

Needs To Say Sorry Fifteen Times Or More

, , , | Right | July 11, 2018

(I am shopping with my girlfriend. As we head to the quick check-out, a woman with her cart full of goods slowly passes over the sign “15 items or less” and continues. My girlfriend and I are the next in line as nobody else is waiting, and an automated system calls for someone to come to the next available register. Suddenly, my girlfriend turns to me and says, pointing behind me:)

Girlfriend: “She has way more than fifteen items.”

(I turn around, and that woman is there. I gently point to the sign:)

Me: “It’s fifteen items or less only, ma’am.”

Woman: “Oh? Really? I didn’t see the sign. Sorry.”

(She turned around; and kept saying, way too many times, that she was sorry and she never saw the sign. We turned around to face the area of the registers. The guy operating the first one looked at us and raised both thumbs, mouthing, “Thank you.”)

Unfiltered Story #116228

, , | Unfiltered | July 5, 2018

(I’m a rough looking guy with a a full beard and not really athletic, but quite built and sturdy looking. I also was quite troubled when I was a kid and teenager. I fought through it along with coming out as a young adult so I ended up with high self-esteem/confidence in later years as a result. This is important to the story as you’ll see.

I worked at a small electronic store outlet a couple of years ago. One day, I’m standing at a register/computer, doing a task I can’t remember, when my Manager comes over to me. He was helping two clients in the MP3 players section, a woman and a young teenage kid. We’re the only four people in the store at the time.)

Manager: [my name], do you know these people?

Me : *looks over* No, never seen them before.

Manager : Weird. The kid has a question he wants to ask you.

Me : There’s something you don’t know about a product?

Manager : You misunderstood… he wants to ask YOU.

Me. Me? What?

Manager : Yeah, erm… well, her mother was asking all the right questions and I was making a sale, which was for the kid. The kid was looking at your direction for almost the whole exchanche. Out of nowhere he said to her mother that he had a question for you… and only for you, before she could buy the iPod for him.

Me : What? Why?

Manager : We don’t know. Her mom tried to prod him further, but he’s adamant and only wants to ask you personally.

Me : Really?

Manager : *shrugs* Can you… ?

Me : Yeah, sure. No problem…

I approach them and the Mother is looking at me like a statue, not knowing what her son is cooking up, who’s standing in front of her.

Me : Hi, you had a question or wanted to talk to me?

Boy : Can we speak in private?

Me : Huh, it’s not a big store, maybe we could lower our voice?

Boy : *looking shy, he speaks quietly barely looking higher than my shoulders* It’s… I don’t know if I should ask.

Me : *quickly glancing at her mother I gather from her I’m allowed to prod further* Well, you’re lucky because we’re alone in the store. Even if it’s personal or silly, I promise I won’t make fun of you and I will take your question seriously. Do you want us or your mom to walk on the other side of the store?

Boy : No it’s okay. I want… Well I… *sigh* Do you think if I take a white iPod over a black iPod, it would make me look less manly? Is white for girls?

I look at the mother and her gaping mouth matches my surprise. As a gather my thoughts, I figured he jugded me on appearance.

Me : Uhm, I think I get it… You saw me over there, looked at how I stood and my apperance and thought you want to look a little like me, meaning you think I look manly. Am I right?

Boy : *looks at me in the eyes for the first time and nods*

Me : Okay. Then this might shock you but it’s not your judgment that’s off, you simply judged a book by it’s cover… but would you guess me as a bisexual?

Boy : *lower jaw drops to floor*

Me : I’ll take that as a no, but I am. I get that my orientation doesn’t affect my looks I you couldn’t really tell but let me tell you something I’ve been told when I was bit older than you are : “If what you wear defines your virility, then you weren’t very manly to begin with.” It’s not because I wear a black uniform that I look manly, it’s because of my attitude and stance standing up. So I’d be saying the same yo you. If the color of your iPod defines how manly you are, you weren’t very virile to begin with. You could wear a pink dress a still be the manliest thing in the room if you acted like it… That’s good for you?

Boy : *popping a smile* Hehe. Okay.

Mother : *stabbing at the boy’s sides with her finger* What do we say for the awesome personal advice FROM A STRANGER?

Boy : Ow, heh. Thanks.

I didn’t feel that comfortable finishing the sale with them so I left it to my manager who sold a white iPod. The next week the boy came back on its own to exchange some accessories… with a huge smile in a bright pink t-shirt.

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