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It’s Hardly Do(ohickey) Or Die, Ma’am

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: WrightSister3 | November 29, 2024

My dad just retired, and we had his retirement party last night. A lot of his former and current employees were there, as well as family. A few people got up and gave speeches, and though I never worked for him, I told this story from about twelve years ago.

When I was in high school, I had a day off, so my dad invited me to go out to lunch with him. Mom wouldn’t be able to get off work, so it was just going to be a daddy-daughter lunch date.

Just when I was going to get into the shower and get ready for the day, my dad called.

Dad: “Something big came up at work. We’re going to have to postpone our lunch. I didn’t bring anything to eat since I was planning on lunch with you, so could you stop by [Sandwich Shop], grab me a sandwich and some chips, and bring them to me?”

I was bummed but said okay. Instead of the nice sweater/skirt combo I had planned on wearing, I put on a pair of old, ripped jeans and a black T-shirt with a giant Nike logo across the front as well as putting my hair into a messy ponytail under a black and red baseball cap.

I picked up his food and drove off to his work. He owned and operated a hardware and garden store. (It sounds weird to say that in the past tense after all these years!)

I got there, went to his office, and saw him behind the glass on the phone, with lots of papers around him. He looked frantic on his call and was shuffling through the papers. I knocked on the glass and held up the bag with his food, and when he saw me, he gave me a thumbs-up and then jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the employee break room, so I went there to put his food in the fridge.

Two warehouse employees were there.

Employee #1: “Our biggest supplier suddenly and unexpectedly went out of business today.”

Employee #2: “[Dad] is trying to see if he can snag any leftover inventory they might have, and he’s looking for a new supplier.”

We made some idle chit-chat before I put Dad’s lunch in the fridge and walked out the door.

I got maybe two steps out the door when a woman grabbed my attention.

Woman: “Where do you keep the doohickey?”

At the time, I had no idea what a doohickey was.

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t work here. I’m just delivering food.”

Woman: *Practically screaming* “Why won’t you help me?!”

Then, she noticed the sign over the door that said, “Employees Only”.

Woman: “What were you doing in there if you don’t work here?”

She clearly thought she had caught me or something.

Me: “This is where I was told to bring the food, but I really don’t work here, and I don’t even know what a doohickey is.”

She then started berating me for not knowing what a doohickey was. Then, I thought of two employees behind the door; surely one of them would know what a doohickey was and where to find it. But when I turned to go in and get one of them, she loudly shrieked:

Woman: “Why won’t you help me?! Don’t bother your coworkers when you’re right here!”

I don’t know if it was because he was done on the phone, or he just was alerted by the woman’s loud shrieking, but Dad came out of his office and asked what was going on. The woman spoke up quickly.

Woman: “I’m trying to find a doohickey, and she won’t help me.”

Dad: “I’m sorry, but she’s just delivering lunch. She probably doesn’t even know what a doohickey is.”

Me: *To Dad* “I tried to get [Employee #1] or [Employee #2] to come out and help her as I have no idea what a doohickey is.”

Woman: “You should train the workers better.”

Dad: “Again, she doesn’t work here, and she claimed she tried to get you help. Did she or did she not?”

Woman: “Why is everyone trying to cover for her?”

As far as I know, she had only talked to me and Dad, so I don’t know who “everyone” was.

Dad: “Doohickeys are on aisle three, or you can maybe find one at [Home Improvement Chain].”

The woman then stormed off to aisle three, and later that evening, Dad told me she had bought a doohickey.

He later told me that was the first time he ever suggested to a customer that they could go elsewhere when he had the item in stock or could get it there in a reasonable amount of time. He then told me what a doohickey was.

Years later, when I was married, and my husband and I got a house, Dad gave us a doohickey as a housewarming gift. I started laughing hysterically when I unwrapped it and saw what it was. (It was a light sensor for outdoor lights so they automatically come on when it’s dark enough.) My husband thought there was something wrong with me because I was laughing like crazy and could barely get out:

Me: “Did you find it on aisle three, or did you have to go to [Home Improvement Chain]?”

So, Dad is officially retired now, my older brother is taking over, and I know where to get a doohickey should I ever need one.

Exclusionary? Sure. Racist? Uhhhhhhh…

, , , , , , , , | Working | August 4, 2024

My coworker is retiring after thirty-five years at [Company]. With my supervisor’s permission, I set up a farewell party for him and his core team — twelve people. I sign out one of the glass-walled conference rooms for the afternoon to have his party.

While this is going on, a young man who was recently hired at the company comes in and starts checking out the food. I point to the young man, [Coworker] mouths, “I don’t know.”

Me: “Hi, I’m sorry, this—”

Young Man: “No vegetarian options?”

Me: “I’m sorry, this is a private event.”

Young Man: “Yes! I work for [Company]; I was invited. Why are there no vegetarian options? This is exclusionary and racist!”

I do not know this man, [Coworker] does not know him, and he’s loudly calling us all racists. It’s time to go.

Me: “Tell me what this lunch is for, or I’m calling security and having you removed.”

Young Man: “You! For you!”

Me: “So, just to be clear, you are saying you were invited to my party even though we don’t know each other.”

Young Man: “We do!”

Me: “What’s my name?”

Young Man: “Sarah!”

Me: “Not even close.”

I begin guiding him toward the exit with an outstretched arm.

Young Man: “But—”

Me: “Goodbye.”

Young Man: “No, I—”

Me: “Have a nice day.”

We are at the door again; he is standing just outside.

Young Man: “B****!”

Me: “F*** you, too.”

He stared at me through the door (all glass), and I stood there until he left.

I did not see him again, so I don’t know if he quit or got fired, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t work here anymore.

Wow, Misogynists And Homophobes Really DO Go Together!, Part 2

, , , , , , , | Right | July 24, 2024

I worked for twenty years in a hardware store before retiring to be a more hands-on grandmother. In my entire career in retail this remains my absolute favorite moment where one perfect moment proceeded another.  

As a woman working in the lumber department, I usually get the old school male customers assuming I’m some glorified secretary. As I know I will be leaving soon I have given up hiding behind a customer service smile to these idiots.

Customer: “Can I get someone else to help me? No offense, darlin’, it’s just easier to do this with a man.”

Me: “No problem, cupcake! I can tell you’re not used to women handling your wood.”

The customer made a cartoonish “guffaw” sound and recomposed himself.

Customer: “Is there any need to be so vulgar?”

Me: “You’re the one that implied my genitals were a hindrance to my ability to do my job. Don’t worry, I’ll find someone who identifies as a man to come and help you.”

Now I said “identifies as a man” and not “a man” on purpose, because in a cosmically beautiful piece of timing, the department manager that day happened to be a FTM transgendered person. I called them over to explain the situation, as well as hear the customers complaint.

Manager: “As a man, I could try to help you, sir. Would that be acceptable?”

Customer: *Storming out.* “This whole f****** world is going to Hell!”

Manager: *To me.* “You and your genitals, as you were.”

It was a fun final year there, with no f***s to give and with a manager who let me get away with it!

Related:
Wow, Misogynists And Homophobes Really DO Go Together!


This story is part of our Editors’-Favorite-Stories-Of-2024-(second half!) roundup!

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What Part Of “I Cannot Personally Guarantee” Confused You?

, , , , , , | Working | April 12, 2022

Years ago, when I worked in IT support, we had a company director who was quite “demanding”. I ended up being the only person in the office who dealt with him, mainly because our boss got fed up with him and nobody else had the patience to deal with him without getting angry.

One morning, this director phoned me with a query.

Director: “Hello, [My Name]. I need a favour. I have a friend who runs a charity teaching computer skills to children with disabilities, and he’s looking for a couple of old laptops. Do you have anything we can give him? I’ve cleared it with [My Boss].”

Me: “I’m not sure, to be honest. I know a couple of weeks ago we had two or three old laptops that had been decommissioned, but I don’t know if they’re still there or even if they still work.”

Director: “That will be perfect! Thank you!”

Me: “Now, hold on, [Director], I first need to look for them and test them. I cannot personally guarantee that we will have anything.”

Director: “Okay, well, have a look and let me know when you find them. I’ll be onsite later this afternoon.”

I ended up really busy and wasn’t able to get looking for the old laptops until after lunch. I checked all three of our storage areas — nothing! I even asked our SysAdmin, who confirmed that he’d taken one laptop for parts and the other two had likely been disposed of.

Of course, I tried phoning [Director] to tell him but got no answer.

Later that day, [Director] turned up.

Director: “Right, [My Name], what about these laptops you have for me?”

Me: “Well, [Director], unfortunately, I don’t have anything for you. I had a look in our storerooms, and everything we did have has either been salvaged for parts or disposed of.”

[Director] was angry at this point but not actually raising his voice.

Director: “You promised me that you had three laptops for me. I’ve promised my friend he could have them today!”

Me: “I didn’t actually promise you anything. I said we might have old laptops but I needed to check.”

Director: “This is not very professional. You’ve made me look bad in front of my friend, who does very important charity work.”

Me: *Thinking* “Well, why the h*** did you promise something like that to your friend?”

Me: *Out loud* “Well, [Director], I’m sorry about that.”

[Director] repeated his complaint about me being unprofessional and walked out of the office. As he left, our intern piped up:

Intern: “Maybe he shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep?”

This was just one of the many things [Director] did that caused me endless frustration in the process. But when he retired about six months before I left the company, I went to the retirement party, and just after receiving his retirement gift, he came over to see me, shook my hand, and apologised for being so demanding. In spite of my “unprofessionalism,” I clearly managed to stay in his good books!

Admitting Defeat Was An Easy Thing Touché

, , , , , , , | Right | November 29, 2012

(The owner of the bookstore where I work is very old and walks with a cane. Despite this, he always wanders the shelves and helps out patrons. Behind the counter, in a glass case, he keeps an assortment of trophies and medals he won in his youth. One night, someone decides to try to steal them.)

Owner: “I’m sorry, but you can’t be behind the counter.”

Robber: *smashing the glass* “F*** you, old man! Just stay away and don’t do anything stupid!”

(The robber sweeps the medals into his backpack and then tries to open the till.)

Owner: “Stop that, young man! You’re making a terrible mistake!”

Robber: *waves a large knife* “Yeah, well so are you! Back off! How do you open this f***ing thing?””

Owner: “Take a look at all those medals.”

Robber: “What? Just open the f***ing cash register!”

Owner: *very calmly* “Just take a look.”

Robber: *confused* “Uh, okay. Yeah, they’re gold. That’s why I took them, you a**hole. Gold fencing, gold fencing, silver fencing…”

(The owner gracefully draws the sword from his sword-cane.)

Robber: “Oh, please! Try that stuff in a real fight and you’ll just get kill—”

(With a flick of his weapon, the owner removes the robber’s glasses.)

Robber: *drops the knife* “Don’t hurt me!” *drops to his knees*

(I had called the police as soon as the knife came out. They arrive and identify the robber as a serial burglar who had stabbed a previous victim. Years later, at the owner’s retirement party, he recounts the story.)

Owner: “You know, hearing that story makes me think of two things. One, I wish a fencing judge had been there so I could have gotten the gold for that bout, and two, I missed the only time in my life when I could have asked someone if they called that a knife.”