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They’ve Been Through So Much More Than Tough Customers

, , , , , , | Right | March 29, 2021

I’ve recently moved back to my hometown after losing my job. A few months later, my best friend, also from my hometown, passes away unexpectedly of a heart condition that we thought was under control after his last surgery. 

A couple of months after that, I find a retail job. One day, my late friend’s dad comes through my till. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since the funeral, so we have a bit of a heart-to-heart, exchanging memories and stories of his son, which results in some laughter and also some tears. 

Once he goes on his way, I do not call the next customer because another cashier is available and I want to collect myself before helping the next one. She comes to my till anyway. 

Customer: “What are you crying for?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I just had a tough conversation. But I’m happy to help!”

Customer: “What are you, sixteen? You’ve got plenty of tough conversations ahead; you’d better get used to difficult customers instead of crying!”

I am twenty-one but I do look younger.

Me: “Actually, ma’am, my best friend died a few months back. The customer I helped before you was his father. We just shared a few stories and checked in on each other. How will you be paying today?”

She turned bright red and didn’t say another word through the transaction, snatching her bag and hurrying out after.

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Go Big So They’ll Go Home

, , , , , | Working | March 19, 2021

Several years ago, my grandmother lived with my family. After she passed away, my father was punctual about closing accounts she used, sending out copies of the death certificate when necessary, and so forth. But we kept receiving calls from her former mobile carrier.

My father tried everything, from resubmitting her death certificate, to speaking with a supervisor, to just hanging up on them. They kept calling, at least twice a week.

This, along with continued telemarketing calls for her, got on my father’s nerves. Finally, he took to answering any call who asked to speak with her by shouting, “She’s dead and you vultures still won’t leave her alone!” and bursting into fake sobs.

All but a few rare telemarketing calls finally stopped after about a week of that.

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Just Pray You Live To Learn

, , , , , | Related | January 5, 2021

Here in Australia, we have a fairly low infection rate during the health crisis compared to many other countries, mainly due to our fairly strict but not infallible quarantine methods. As a result, most of us do not know anyone who has been affected by the illness. Many of my friends are conspiracy theorists and spout drivel about how it’s just a hoax to control the masses.

It just reminds me of a discussion I had about another disease with my father after I discovered that he buried building rubble in the backyard.

Me: “I dug up some fibro pieces in the yard today. That has asbestos in it, hasn’t it?”

Dad: “Yeah, probably. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Me: “It is worrying, especially seeing as it causes asbestosis.”

Dad: “I don’t believe in that. I’ve worked with that stuff for years and don’t have any lung problems. It’s just a hoax, probably made up by lawyers to get money.”

Me: “Really? What about all those people who die from it?”

Dad: “I’ve never met anyone who has it, so it can’t be true, and just about everyone I know has worked with it at some time in the past.”

Within a few months, Dad’s best friend, who was in his late seventies, was diagnosed with incurable lung disease linked to asbestos. He had last worked with it at the age of nineteen. A friend of Mum’s was also diagnosed; hers was from a childhood game of using asbestos products as chalk. The final straw was Dad’s sister passing due to the disease. A couple of years after her passing, it was discovered that an insulation company had pumped loose asbestos into her ceiling illegally, after advertising that they used a clean paper waste product. Her house and many others had to be demolished; my poor cousin lost his mother, house, and all of her belongings due to this.  

I only hope that my conspiracy theory friends don’t find out the hard way, too, though it would have to take that to convince some of them. Dad definitely is a believer now.

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Um. How Cute?

, , , , , | Related | December 13, 2020

I am five years old. My little sister is two. My paternal grandfather has just died of a heart attack and we are attending his funeral. I spend the majority of the funeral in another room with my maternal grandmother, overwhelmed. My sister, on the other hand, is being held by my father, who is standing by the coffin.

As people file past to pay their respects, she delivers this gem. She keeps pointing at the coffin, addressing each person who passes.

Sister: “That’s my grandpa. He’s dead!”

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He May Be Dead, But His Credit Score Is Phenomenal

, , , | Working | CREDIT: ChloroformScented | December 10, 2020

My dad died in 2015, but we are still getting non-stop credit card offers for him. I decide to call up the company and get them to stop sending my dad mail.

Me: “Hi. My father is dead, but you keep sending him mail. I want you to take his name off your mailing list.”

Representative: “I’m sorry, but I need to speak to the person to whom the mailings are addressed, or I need a copy of a death certificate.”

Me: “Ma’am, he is dead. He keeps receiving offers from you. He has no credit card with your company. And I am certainly under no obligation to send a death certificate in order to stop receiving junk mail.”

This same conversation keeps going in circles. Finally, I get fed up.

Me: “Fine! I’d like to open this credit card under his name, then.”

Representative: “But you just said he was deceased.”

Me: “Yes.”

The representative was silent for a few seconds before transferring me to the correct helpers.

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