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A collection of stories curated from different subreddits, adapted for NAR.

The Final Word On Passwords, Part 7

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: Crocodiletears128 | September 5, 2020

I work at the corporate help desk for a mid-sized company with multiple locations and divisions. Thankfully, we can answer our help desk calls from home so I’ve been doing the work-from-home life for the past few months.

Caller: “I hit the wrong key and my computer locked up!”

Me: “Oh, no! Does it respond if you hit ctrl-alt-del?”

Caller: “Nope.”

I see this caller is from a location that uses thin clients – low-performance and remote-only computers that only work online.

Me: “Is this a computer or a thin client?”

Caller: “A thin client.”

This is a potential problem because I don’t have access to that division’s servers. If their session is hung up, someone with admin access will need to log them out from the server. I can do basic user account management, but they have their own IT staff to handle these calls. This caller hit the wrong button on the phone tree, but since I’m with corporate I always try my best to help them instead of passing them off.

Me: “Oh, hmm. I’m not sure what we can do. Does it respond when you click the start menu in the bottom corner?”

Caller: “I don’t see that. All I have is my name and ‘Password’.”

Me: “Oh… and it doesn’t respond when you type?”

Caller: “No, I just have never seen this screen before.”

Me: *Pause* “Have you… tried typing your password?”

Caller: “Which one?”

Me: “Your network password.”

Caller: *Types out loud* “U-s-e-r-n-a-m-e. That didn’t work.”

Me: *Pause* “It sounded like you typed in your username; you should type what you normally try after that.”

Caller: “Oh, okay!” *Tries* “Nope. Let me try… nope! Hmm. Maybe… Nope!”

Me: “Okay, you’re locked out; let me clear it. That confirms it is asking for your regular network password, though.”

Caller: “Okay! I got it, I’m in!”

Me: “…”

Score one for persistent troubleshooting techniques, I guess?

Related:
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 6
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 5
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 4
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 3
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 2

A Picture-Perfect Ending

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: youdontplaycrazywithme | September 5, 2020

My mom is usually chill but has a streak in her that will cause her to be all Karen-y, especially when it comes to being able to get something free out of it. This is unacceptable to me and I usually try and fail to calm and quiet her down.

It is the day of my prom and I am super excited to take pictures at this gated nature preserve close to my house. We are meeting the photographer there and my mom comes with me so that we can get pictures together. 

When we get to the place I realize I don’t have cash on me and can’t pay the $1-per-person entry fee (amounting to $3). While we are still in the car I ask my mom:

Me: “Will be okay if you pay our entrance fee?”

Mom: “That’s fine.”

When we get to the gate she pulls one on me and asks the gatekeeper:

Mom: “Do we really need to pay entry? We’ll only be here for half an hour, and we just want to take some pictures for my daughter’s prom.”

I tried to quiet her down when I heard the direction it was going. Since the money was going to the conservation of the area, I was very embarrassed about her being that stingy.

When the gatekeeper heard “pictures,” he showed us a document that, lo and behold, brought the entry fee to $30.

I laughed in my sleeve and didn’t reimburse her, since she got what she asked for.

Some Customers Keep You Late But This Takes The Cake(s)!

, , , | Right | CREDIT: ColdFury96 | September 5, 2020

I’m a fifteen-year-old female. I work in bakery, sort of as a waitress but I also clean and make coffees, etc. I’m the youngest employee and often have to deal with the entitled Karen’s because they think I “have to respect my elders.”

It is during the school holidays. I have worked eight-hour shifts for five days straight and I am on my last shift for the week. We have already closed and I am just tidying up the front while my boss is counting money in the back. I have just finished wiping down the front pastry cabinet when I hear footsteps behind me. As we have already closed, I ignore them, thinking it is my boss’s kid.

I move back behind the counter to check the till and I get this eerie feeling that someone is watching me and suddenly I hear that sound that every Karen makes.

Customer: “…ahem.”

I slowly turn around and standing before me is a typical Karen; from the haircut to the entitled smirk, she sure as h*** fits the bill.

Me: “Oh! Sorry, ma’am, we’re actually closed.”

Customer: “What?! So you can’t serve me anything?”

Me: “Well, I guess I could get you a few cakes—”

Customer: “Hmph! That’s what I thought, missy.”

I HATE being called names as a form of condescension, especially when I haven’t done anything to deserve it, but I know that if I tell her to leave my boss won’t be very happy with me; I’m the youngest so I can’t tell any of the customers to leave no matter what they say.

I suck it up and start to place the cakes she orders into a box. While I’m doing this, I can see that she’s tapping her foot and checking her watch.

Customer: *Sighs loudly* “What’s taking so long?!”

Keep in mind this is on my time and she’s ordered eight different cakes. I slowly reply through gritted teeth.

Me: “Because you ordered so many cakes, I have to walk from cabinet to cabinet to find them.”

She sighs loudly again. I finally finish getting the cakes and ring her up on the till.

Me: “You realize we closed over half an hour ago; if you could come just a little bit earlier I would be able to serve you more things.”

Customer: *Scoffs and laughs* “It’s not my fault you didn’t lock the door, and you’re young so you have to serve me anyway.”

She smirks at me. I cannot believe the audacity of this woman. I feel like telling her to get the f*** out, but again, she’s already paying, so I know I can’t.

Customer: *Wiggling her fingers* “Toodles.”

I told my boss about the encounter and all she said was that at least she’d bought a lot. I hate people like this woman so much!

Not So Hot On The Hotspot, Part 2

, , , , , , | Friendly | CREDIT: noobisle1 | September 5, 2020

Whist on annual leave during the summer holidays, we take the kids out to the countryside. It is a beautiful day and we decide to stop and have a few drinks and lunch in a pub.

While my seventeen-year-old daughter is very sociable and quite happy to sit in a pub garden enjoying the sunshine, my twelve-year-old son isn’t. He is autistic and actively avoids social situations, even with family, and hates to have his routine disrupted.

However, we have found that as long as he has access to his games through his phone or tablet he will stay relatively happy as he can zone out.

My wife, daughter, and I sit in a picnic-type pub while table my son plonks himself on a bench nearby and proceeds to play his games. We have been sat in the pub garden for an hour or so when a couple of women come into the garden with three children and sit themselves in the shade next to the pub. No biggie, as we are at the top (sunny) end of the garden.

After about twenty minutes, the mother of the three children approaches my son.

Woman: *Demanding tone* “Are you playing online? My son cannot access the pub Wi-Fi.”

The signal is poor in the garden area.

Son: *Nervously* “Yes.”

He holds up the mobile Wi-Fi device he is using.

Woman: “What’s that?”

I respond as my son is now showing signs of elevated anxiety.

Me: “It’s a mobile Wi-Fi device so he can play his games.”

Woman: “How do I connect to it? My son needs to play his games!”

Me: “I’m afraid you can’t. There is limited data on it and it is for my son’s use.”

Woman: “But my son can’t play his games.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but that’s not my problem.”

Woman: “But why should your son be able to play his games and not my son?”

Daughter: “Because we brought a mobile device and you didn’t.”

Gotta love my daughter!

Me: “As I said, it’s for my son’s use and there is limited data on it. End of.”

The woman then stomps back to her table in a huff and we think nothing more of it. 

I have to point out that even if she had asked politely, I would have still said no as the range on the thing is pretty poor which meant her son would have had to sit near my son to use it. This would have only raised my son’s anxiety levels and he would not have been happy.

About ten minutes later, she shouts across the garden in a rather jubilant tone.

Woman: “Ha! I’ve managed to connect to your device!”

Me: “I doubt that, since you haven’t got the password.”

Woman: “I don’t need it; I have put my own in.”

I’m like, “Whatever; there’s no way she connected to it.” We carry on chatting for another hour before getting up to leave. As we pass her table, she demands to know.

Woman: “Why is your service provider charging me for data?”

Me: “They’re not; you were never connected to my device.”

Woman: “Yes, they are… look!”

She thrusts her phone in my face.

Me: “I’m not with [Provider]… but I assume you are?”

I do not stay any longer and am not prepared to “discuss” the situation with her.

Daughter: “She probably selected personal hotspot option, thinking it was our device, from her own device but there was not enough data available. When she entered her password it was to purchase additional data!”

Related:
Not So Hot On The Hotspot

No Vocation For Location, Part 25

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: Crank05 | September 5, 2020

I work at a café that sells breakfast and lunch, as well as baked goods and take-home meals. We used to have another location, but it is no longer open to the public. We do still use it for private events, and we have a chef who regularly uses the kitchen there. Also, it shut down well before the current health crisis.

 An entitled woman customer comes up to my register and speaks to me in an angry, condescending tone.

Customer: “Apparently, I have a sandwich order to pick up here but I would never order from this place!”

Uh-oh, red flag!

Me: “Okay, what’s your name for the order?”

She tells me and I check and confirm her order.

Me: “Is this order correct?”

Customer: “Yeah, it’s what I ordered, but I always go to [Other Location]!”

Me: “[Other Location] is closed now. Here’s your sandwich, and your total is—”

Customer:No, it’s never closed! I go there all the time!”

Me: “Okay, well, I beg your pardon; as far as I know, it’s been closed for a while, but perhaps I am wrong and I will look into that.”

Whatever, I don’t care to argue.

Me: “So your total today is—”

Customer: “You’re wrong! I know it’s open! It’s been open the whole time during this lockdown, with a full retail menu! I know because I’ve been going there all along!”

Me: “Okay, here’s your sandwich, and is there anything else?”

Customer: “No, and you’re wrong!”

Me: “Okay, would you like a receipt?”

Customer: “You’re wrong!”

She continues arguing and yelling at me. I am done listening to her at this point. There is a line growing behind her and she won’t stop yelling at me. I call the owner over to come and talk to her.

 She finally admits to the owner that she has been sending a coworker of hers to buy her lunch all along, but she still insists that they were getting it at the other location.

 Afterward, I found out that what happened is that she had called our store to place an order, and then went to the other location to pick it up. She saw the chef working in the kitchen through the window, knocked on the door, and demanded that he help her. He politely informed her that that other location is closed to the public and told her to go to our store. The chef also sent a text message to the owner, saying that an angry customer was coming our way. The owner showed it to me and we had a good laugh.

 Related:
No Vocation For Location, Part 24

No Vocation For Location, Part 23
No Vocation For Location, Part 22
No Vocation For Location, Part 21
No Vocation For Location, Part 20