Attracted To Trouble

, , , , , , , | Working | March 9, 2020

Around 1999 or so, I was a brand-new IT manager in a conglomerate of radio stations. We had a sleeve of “account executives” who thought they were all that.

One called my office one day saying that her data was gone and she couldn’t work, and that her computer was dead. I asked her to bring the box to me, and she did. I rebuilt it with the backup data. The next week, it died again. I rebuilt again. The next week, yet again.

She emailed the GM, VP of operations, my boss, and the owner of the company saying that I was unable to do my job. I was annoyed, at least. The next week, she had the same complaint about her desktop box. I went to her cubicle and retrieved a tower with no fewer than twenty fridge magnets affixed to it. I was vindicated.

1 Thumbs
571

Clients Like This Should Only Exist In Folklore

, , , , | Right | January 25, 2020

(My father works at a local radio station selling ads. One day, he receives a call from one of his clients. This client is a very well-known and wealthy businessman, as well as a person who doesn’t take any crap from anyone, customer or not.)

Client: “You are playing the wrong ad on the radio.”

Dad: “We played the ad that you folks sent to us.”

(The client slams the phone down. My father calls back, but the client won’t take any of his calls. After a week of trying to get a hold of him, my father finally asks the receptionist.)

Dad: “What happened? Did I do something wrong?”

Receptionist: “You insulted him.”

Dad: “What?! How?”

Receptionist: “You said ‘folks.’ To [Client], the word ‘folk’ is referring to the common folk. He thinks he is too rich to be considered common folk.”

(Eventually, my father did get to talk and apologize to the client, and they had no more problems, although my father had to really watch what words he used.)

1 Thumbs
436

The Modern Millennial: Knowing Songs And Crying For $100

, , , , , | Right | January 15, 2020

I’m the stupid customer in this story.

I was in the car and just happened to know the answer to a radio station’s “name that song” challenge. I didn’t pay attention to know what the prize was, but I was so excited I knew the answer that I called in anyway. Surprisingly, I was the right caller! It was a $100 grocery store gift card, not bad! I gave my details, and they called back a week later with details on how to pick up the prize. As I’ve never won a radio contest before, I didn’t realize this meant I had to drive down to the studio during their business hours, which happened to be the same hours I worked plus at least a 30- to 45-minute drive.

I played phone tag for a week or so asking for an alternative, like a friend picking it up for me or for them to mail it to me. They said no, you have to pick it up in person with an ID. Eventually, my employer allowed me to move my lunch break to the last hour so I could rush down to the studio before they closed.

As luck would have it, rush hour was at its peak, add in road construction, a car accident on the side of the road, and a full bladder — in my rush to get out, I didn’t use the bathroom before leaving — and I was frustrated and impatient. Traffic usually doesn’t bother me. I watched the clock tick away as I sat in my car on the road-turned-parking lot. When I finally reached the office building, I ran inside, saw the dark lights and locked office door, and ran crying into the bathroom, ready to burst. I came back outside, sat in the hallway out of the way of foot traffic — except a lone, confused-looking janitor — and cried to myself.

I don’t know why. Maybe it was just the frustration building up, but a twenty-something-year-old shouldn’t be crying over a gift card. I ended up calling the station and leaving a tearful voicemail explaining how I tried my best, I was sitting outside the office seven minutes after they closed, and I would try to come back another time. I guess I sounded pathetic enough that the next day after the weekend, they emailed me a waiver form saying they would mail the gift card, but that I had to sign it saying it’s not their fault if it gets lost or stolen in transit. I signed right away and received the gift card within the week.

1 Thumbs
525

Unfiltered Story #181193

, | Unfiltered | January 1, 2020

Woman comes in to collect a prize her son won. It’s our policy that we LEGALLY cannot give prizes to anyone other than the winner.
Woman: I need to get my winnings.
Me: Great! I’ll have you just slide your ID over so we can get that for you.
Woman: My son won it.
Me: Oh, well, I am sorry – we have to have the winner present in order to release the prize.
Woman: *rolls eyes* He lives in (town 20 minutes off.) You can just give them to me.
Me: No, I can’t. I legally cannot.
Woman: This is RIDICULOUS. I can’t believe this treatment. (She then beings to rant and lament her woes with our peasant lifestyles as she throws a full on, flopping around fit. Her gaudy costume jewelry is smacking her in the face **I took great pleasure in watching that.** as she rolls her head around.

She then tells me I don’t know how to do my job and saunters out the door. Ha, clearly.

Interesting Piece Of Radio Trivia For You

, , , , | Right | September 12, 2019

(My local radio station plays this clip from a caller.)

DJ: “Hello, [Station Call Sign]. You’re on the air!”

Caller: “Is the answer Claire Huxtable?”

DJ: “Oh, you were so close!”

Caller: “Dang!”

DJ: “Tell you what. Give us one more guess.”

Caller: “Um… is it… Peg Bundy?”

DJ: “There you go!”

Caller: “Yay! What do I win?”

DJ: “Beats me. We’re not doing any kind of trivia contest now.”

Caller: “Huh?”

(They apparently had called the wrong station.)

1 Thumbs
665