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

Three Minutes Of Oversight Become Three Weeks Of Pain

, , , , , , , , | Working | CREDIT: irritatingfarquar | December 8, 2023

I worked for a water company for twenty-five years and was one of their most productive repair crews — that is until the new manager started.

We had a monthly rota where you were on call for one week out of every four for emergency repairs out of hours.

On the day in question, I started work at 7:30 am on a Friday and finished work at 3:15 am on Saturday, so it was a pretty long shift. I got to work Tuesday morning, and [New Manager] called me into the office.

New Manager: “According to your vehicle tracker, you left the yard at 3:12 am but logged it as 3:15 am. That is an attempt to defraud the company!”

As you can imagine, I was absolutely fuming at this level of bulls***.

Me: “At the time, I was covered in mud and sweat, and I just wanted to get home after completing a monster shift for the company. Are you genuinely making a s***storm over three minutes?”

New Manager: “I’m making you aware that you could be fired for it.”

Cue malicious compliance.

Me: “If we’re going to be this petty, you can take me off the emergency contact list for extra coverage. And I won’t be starting twenty minutes early each day, either; I’ll now be clocking in at exactly 7:30 am, and I shall be heading out at exactly 5:30 pm, no deviation whatsoever. And you can explain to your bosses why productivity is down and you are struggling to get coverage for emergencies. We’ll then see how important your three minutes are when they are costing the company money.”

Little did I realise at the time that the guy’s job was bonus-related and linked to our productivity, which tanked after that because most of the other gangs followed my lead.

Three weeks went by with an absolute s***-show of customer service complaints about their work not being carried out in a timely manner. My productivity dropped from seven jobs per day down to four.

[New Manager] was called in by his bosses to try and explain what the f*** was going on. He tried to spin some BS story that I’d turned all the guys against him for no reason and that this was the result.

Little did he know that I’d actually trained his boss when he first started with the company fifteen years before. He’d wanted to come out and find out what we did and experience how hard the job was, and he’d surprised me by working a full month on the repair crews before going back to the office.

Anyhow, the boss called me in to find out what was really going on, so I explained how [New Manager] had used the tracker to monitor what time I’d left the yard and that I’d guesstimated my finish time and overestimated by three minutes because I was absolutely knackered after working a shift from Hell on call.

[New Manager] was let go for misuse of the tracking system as it was only supposed to be used for emergencies and not monitoring. We also had our on-call system reviewed to cut the hours we had to work.

PIN-Headed, Part 25

, , , , , , | Right | CREDIT: fairypurplelilac | December 8, 2023

I’m seventeen and work in retail as a weekend job. In the UK, the contactless card limit is currently £45, though at some point, it’s supposed to go up to £100.

A lady and her husband come up to my till. Their shopping comes to around £70? I can’t remember, but it is definitely more than £45. The lady tries to tap her card.

Me: “Ma’am, unfortunately, the contactless limit is £45, so you will need to insert your card.”

Lady: “No, it went up to £100.”

She attempts to tap it again.

Me: “It was announced that the limit is going up to £100, but it hasn’t yet. And even if it had, our tills don’t support it yet.”

Lady: “Well, I don’t know my PIN.”

Me: “Okay, well, do you have another way to pay?”

Lady: *Raising her voice* “You tell me what my PIN is. Since you’re the one who’s making me put a number, you can tell me what it is.”

Me: “Unfortunately, I don’t know your PIN. You can either find another way to pay, put some stuff back, or leave the shop.”

Lady: “I know my PIN will come up on your screen when I put my card in, so tell me what it is!”

Me: “No, it won’t, ma’am.”

Lady: “You’re just lying about the limit not being £100 yet! Let me talk to your manager!”

My manager came over and told her the same things I had just told her.

The best part of the whole story? She finally pulled out a wad of cash and gave it to me, so it wasn’t like she didn’t have another way to pay. Also, her husband just stood there like a lemon the entire time this was happening.

Related:
PIN-Headed, Part 24
PIN-Headed, Part 23
PIN-Headed, Part 22
PIN-Headed, Part 21
PIN-Headed, Part 20

A Spicy Misunderstanding

, , , , , | Friendly | CREDIT: AlexsCereal | December 8, 2023

There was a “salsa party” at a community center near me, and I thought, “Aw, h*** yeah! Free chips and salsa!”

I spent all day impatiently waiting for the crunchy goodness that was going to be chips and salsa while I’d maybe chat it up with new faces.

I came to find out as I arrived people that people were salsa dancing and no chips and salsa were waiting for me.

That is all. Pure disappointment.

When Noisy, Nosy Neighbors Meet Relishing In Revenge

, , , , , , , , , , | Right | CREDIT: Zenmedic | December 8, 2023

When I first left home to go to university, my parents co-signed a mortgage for me on an apartment-style condominium in a small Canadian city. This was twenty years ago, so it came in at a whopping $52,000. They thought that this was a much better and more economical choice than trying to find an apartment and deal with landlords. I loved the idea and moved into my new home.

The building was almost entirely populated by the sixty-five-and-over crowd. It was small and only had twenty-four units split into halves. I had a basement condo. It was a nice place, nothing fancy, but amazing for a student. I was young (nineteen) but I was quiet, kept to myself, and didn’t do the whole party thing.

I got along with most of my neighbors, and I’d help them out by moving heavy things or carrying groceries upstairs. I was acutely aware of the age gap and the general image of a university student, so I made sure to be just an all-around great guy to avoid conflict.

The one person I could never see eye to eye with was my upstairs neighbor. For a seventy-year-old woman who couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds, she walked like a d***ed elephant. She’d have gospel music on her TV at max volume at 5:00 am on Sundays, and she’d make remarks about “that d*** kid” whenever something was left out of place. She even went so far as to accuse me of breaking into her car and making a police statement saying she saw me do it. Unfortunately for her, I was out of the country on an internship at the time, but still she persisted in being a pain in my a**. I tried to approach her about the TV issue, and her response was to make sure that it was no longer just Sundays. After a couple of years of attempted diplomacy, it was clear that nothing I did would make things better.

Others in the building probably knew [Upstairs Neighbor] had it out for me, but why would this adorable little old lady try to lie and get me thrown out of the building by the condo board? (She tried at least eleven times while I lived there.)

Seven years into my time living there, I was at my job with an ambulance service just north of the city. I got called to a shooting; a guy shot his neighbor in a land dispute. The neighbor survived, but there was, of course, going to be a police investigation. The investigating officers called me to get a statement and offered to just come over to do it rather than have me travel. One of them was a constable I’d worked with quite a bit, so I said sure. We set a time for about an hour after I got home from work.

I was just getting out of the shower when they buzzed to get into the building. I hit the door buzzer, let them know I’d be ready in a second, and quickly grabbed some pants and a shirt. I heard them come in and then walk upstairs. As I was trying to throw on clothes, I heard them knock… on [Upstairs Neighbor]’s door. They introduced themselves as being from the RCMP [Royal Canadian Mounted Police] Major Crimes division and said they were looking for me.

Balls.

Upstairs Neighbor: “Oh, he lives downstairs. What do you want with him?”

Constable: “Thank you. We can’t say why we want to speak with him; it’s an active investigation.”

My heart sank… but then, I had a thought.

It only took about fifteen minutes to do my statement, and they went on their way.

And then the fun began. I knew the rumour mill would be starting. [Upstairs Neighbor] would tell everyone who would listen that Major Crimes had been looking for me and that I must be some sort of criminal. I decided to see where this went.

Pretty soon, I was getting side-eye in the hallway and neighbors were steering clear of me, so I knew she’d been talking. Apparently, I’d been arrested for robbery and kidnapping and must be out on bail, according to [Upstairs Neighbor].

I found this out when one of my neighbors who was on the condo board showed up with a letter demanding an explanation and threats to have me kicked out. I asked him what this was all about.

Condo Board Neighbor: “[Upstairs Neighbor] sent us a letter about what happened, and we had to have an emergency board meeting because people don’t feel safe with you here.”

Me: “Per the by-laws of the condo board, before any action can be taken, I can request a meeting to review and provide a defense.”

[Upstairs Neighbor] was on the board, so I knew she’d be there. They set a date for a week from then, but I was given a caution that it didn’t look good for me and that I would have to do a lot of explaining.

The meeting day came. [Upstairs Neighbor] was sitting smugly looking at me, and the other board members were giving me dirty looks.

Board President: “What do you have to say in your defence?”

I stood and quietly distributed a letter on RCMP letterhead, signed by the regional superintendent.

Letter: “Mr. [My Name] is not under suspicion of any crimes, past or current, and has not been arrested, detained, or questioned as a suspect in any criminal matter. His duties as a paramedic will often require him to make statements with regard to ongoing investigations, and in this instance on [date], investigators went to obtain a statement about an ongoing investigation in which he was professionally involved. At no time did the members discuss, disclose, or in any way indicate that he had any involvement in any wrongdoings. I am deeply saddened by the necessity of this letter, and we will be reopening an investigation into a previous incident regarding false statements made against him.”

I could tell when people read and understood it. The dirty looks shifted from me to [Upstairs Neighbor].

Upstairs Neighbor: “This is a forgery! I witnessed [My Name] being led off in handcuffs! You have to believe me!”

It didn’t help her. I stood and addressed the board and outlined the years of abuse and harassment, including the false accusation of breaking into a vehicle.

Me: “On the advice of my lawyer, I will not discuss the matter further with any member of the board; [Upstairs Neighbor] being a part of the board and using her position for the purposes of harassment opens the board as a whole to litigation, and I am still weighing my options.”

The next day, I had a knock on my door.

Board President: “[Upstairs Neighbor] has been removed from the board. She has been given a warning about her conduct, and any further harassment could result in proceedings to have her removed from the building.”

She also had a visit from the police with a summons for providing a false statement and obstructing a peace officer. She had to attend court. She pled guilty to both charges, and she was given a suspended sentence and a one-year condition not to harass, threaten, or intentionally inconvenience me in any way. If she abided by her conditions, she would receive an absolute discharge (meaning it would be removed from her record, like it never happened).

I moved to another province before her year was up, but for a brief period of time, I actually got to sleep in on Sunday mornings.


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Lying Or Stupid? We May Never Know.

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: Ohnoimgonnarunoutofc | December 7, 2023

I work in a restaurant. One of my servers comes to and asks which of our beers are gluten-free. I know there are specially brewed gluten-free beers, but we certainly don’t carry any. I explain this to the server, and she goes back to relay it to her guest.

He approaches me.

Customer: “I want a gluten-free beer. I have a severe allergy.”

Me: “I’m so sorry, sir, but we unfortunately don’t carry any gluten-free beers. We have a few ciders with no gluten, or we could make you a cocktail if you’d like.”

Customer: “No, I want a beer. You telling me you don’t have Corona?”

Me: “No, we have Corona. Corona isn’t gluten-free, sir.”

Customer: “Stella, then.”

Me: “Sir… Stella isn’t gluten-free, either.”

Customer: *Visibly pissed* “I drink those beers all the time, and I have a severe allergy, so I think I would know. What do you have that’s gluten-free?”

I’m sure you could see me dying inside at this point.

Me: “Cider or cocktails, sir.”

In the end, he bought a Corona, although I cautioned him many times that there is gluten in Corona. I’m sure he said the phrase “severe allergy” about fifty times.