Very Bad Reception, Part 21

, , , , | Healthy | January 18, 2018

(There is a small medical clinic where I live. Usually, for walk-in patients, you get to the door very early, wait until they open it, then head for the desk, where you are assigned an appointment time for the day depending on the order of arrival. Usually, people behave and do not jump forward. Rarely, but sometimes, the clinic isn’t full, and going in mid-morning, you might still get a spot. It’s about 11, and I feel I might have a feminine infection. I stop by the clinic to see if there’s room.)

Secretary: “I’m sorry. There’s a new phone system in place. Now you have to call in the morning and leave your name and phone number. Someone will call you back with the time of your appointment.”

Me: “Well, I’m right here. Can’t you just give me a time?”

Secretary: “No, you have to call.”

Me: “Okay, fine.”

(I make two steps to the side, pick up my cellphone, take the card she gave me with the phone number, and start dialing. The secretary looks at me.)

Secretary: “What are you doing?”

Me: “Calling for an appointment. You said I absolutely had to call.”

Secretary: “Ugh… Okay, I’ll give you one.”

(I believe she suddenly realized that I would have left my info on the answering machine, that she would have listen to it, then call me back with the time, all while I was standing in front of her.)

Related:
Very Bad Reception, Part 20
Very Bad Reception, Part 19
Very Bad Reception, Part 18

Unfiltered Story #102196

, , | Unfiltered | December 26, 2017

(I work in a college bookstore where and we are working on shelving books for the fall semester. Two girls come into the store, one is blind and being led by the other.)

Me: Hello, Can we help you?

Leading girl: Yes we were hoping we could get her books for the next semester.

Assist. Mgr: Does she have her book list?

Leading girl: No but I know the books I had the same courses before. We need [book #1], [book #2] and Visualizing Physiology.

(The transaction goes smoothly from here and I return to my shelving, but I had to bite my tougne to not risk insulting the blind girl by saying, “Please tell me that the irony of the third title is not lost on you guys.” This is not intended to be an insult to the visually impaired, but irony just doesn’t get much better than this.)

He’s Bringing Home A Nine

, , , , | Friendly | December 4, 2017

(This takes place years ago, in college. I am renting a three-bedroom apartment with two other guys. My best friend and I are sharing the master bedroom, so we can rent the last bedroom to a fourth guy to save money. One of the numerous people who rents that room is a very good-looking guy that studies law, has everything paid by his parents, and obviously doesn’t have to work. All his free time is spent going to bars and pubs and bringing back women. When he does this, he always makes a show of presenting us by name and making us shake hands with his flavor of the week [if not day], and then he simply slips off to his bedroom that is, fortunately, very well sound-isolated. While we’re washing the dishes:)

Friend: “You know, I used to love Fridays, but now I know I’ll have to meet yet another ephemeral woman that will steal my coffee tomorrow morning.”

Me: “I’m wondering if he’s trying to rub it in our face, even though I don’t care.”

Friend: “What? You don’t care?”

Me: “Honestly, if I was good-looking, rich like he is, and I didn’t have a girlfriend, I would probably do the same. No, what gets to me is the fact he’s NEVER brought back the same woman twice, AND he always has to present that person to us as if he’s looking for an everlasting bond going forward.”

Friend: “That’s what I’m saying! Look, he’s been here, what… a month, maybe five weeks? And he’s already at the eighth woman.”

Me: “Oh, I hadn’t counted. Mmhh, so tonight would be the ninth?

Friend: “Yes.”

Me: “…I think I’ll just stay in front of the computer tonight and play games.”

Friend: “Good frigging idea. I’ll just sit in bed to read a book instead of being in the living room. I don’t want to see him tonight.”

(The subject dies and I start playing my video game on our PC in our bedroom. The game is online, competitive, and intense, and requires pretty much all of my concentration. The guy in question enters the apartment. Unfortunately, the bedroom door is ajar and the front door is in line with our door on my left. My roommate is reading on the bed behind me, away from view. The guy heads toward me with a girl in tow, but I haven’t even noticed they are here because I have headphones on.)

Guy: “Hey, [My Name], I want you to meet [Girl]. She’s—”

Me: *playing and totally in the zone* “Yeah, yeah… Hi, Number Nine.” *halfheartedly waves left hand to them, barely even looking*

(A moment ticks, then my head jerks up upon realizing what I just said and did. I turn my head slowly to the left to meet their gaze, mouth agape trying but failing to find something to say. She has a perplexed look on her face, but he lunges angrily to close our bedroom door while staring me dead in the eyes.)

Friend: *trying not to laugh* “…‘Hi, Number Nine?’”

Me: “I was… He… It came out on its own. I didn’t… I would never…”

Friend: *laughs loudly enough for the whole building to hear*

(I put some clothes on and fled the apartment to my girlfriend’s to avoid him at all costs. The guy told us he would be looking for another place during the weekend, and left the place at the end of that month. I don’t think I would have been able to come up with an objection even if I wanted to.)

A New Way Of Teaching Remotely

, , , , , | Learning | November 29, 2017

(I am in a project management course and my teacher is just setting up her microphone after a quiz, so we are about halfway through a course.)

Teacher: “Can you hear me on the speakers or just my voice?”

Class: “Just your voice.”

(She continues fiddling with the wireless mic pack. A student from another class walks in.)

Student: “Sorry, but we can hear you in the room next door on our speakers.”

(The class plus teacher laughs.)

Teacher: *shuts off mic* “Sorry about that. This isn’t the first time this has happened. Last time, it was a classroom on the seventh floor. They only reason they figured out who it was was my accent. I happened to speak to that professor that day, and he knew who was talking based on my accent. He even thanked me for teaching his class for him.”

Giving Voice To Their Concerns

, , , , , | Working | November 22, 2017

(I’m being called by our phone, cable, and Internet provider. They want to advertise their new package, probably in hopes of increase our payment. But I’m fine with what we have and refuse to change, especially to pay more for nothing useful to us. Everything is all right, until he tries to close.)

Caller: “And did I speak to Madame or her daughter?”

(I then decide, that, despite being the daughter, I’m the caregiver of my parents — meaning I pay bills, negotiate contract, etc — and that being 39 years old is old enough to be titled Madame.)

Me: “It’s Madame.”

Caller: “You have a really young voice.”

Me: *cheerful* “Oh, thank you!”

Caller: *almost angry* “No, you sound really young.”

Me: “Okay? Thanks?”

Caller: “No! It’s not a compliment.” *hangs up*

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