They Have A Band On Their Wrist And A Chip On Their Shoulder

, , , , | Right | March 11, 2020

(I am volunteering at a convention where people are given wristbands to wear instead of badges. I am standing at one of the entrances, and my job is to stop people if I can’t see their wristbands. Whenever someone passes me, I look at their wrists to check for a wristband. At one point, two young women come out holding hands. As usual, I look at their wrists as they pass. They notice and stop.)

Woman #1: “Excuse me, do you have a problem with us?”

Me: “Oh, I’m—”

Woman #2: “There’s nothing wrong with two people in love.”

Me: “I know, I’m just—”

Passerby: “This city is full of LGBT people; you’ll just have to deal with it! Otherwise, get the f*** out.”

Me: “Look, I’m just checking for wristbands, which you clearly have. I don’t have a problem with you.”

Woman #1: “Oh…”

Me: “Enjoy the show.”

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Clearly, She Was Offended By The Word “Tricky”

, , , , , | Working | February 24, 2020

Due to my experience with databases and the specific reporting software we use, I often get called in to help build reports that coworkers in my company will run and use. This experience means that I’m also generally their first resource when those reports break or give odd data.

On this particular day, I am contacted by a fairly new coworker who is taking over a particular report that a prior coworker had been running. She wants me to explain how the report works so that she can understand it all. I am ahead on my work, and I’m happy to do so as my coworkers understanding the reports cuts down on the amount of troubleshooting I end up needing to do. I go over to her desk and sit down to explain things.

Me:
“To start with, how familiar are you with [Reporting System]?”

Coworker:
*Cheerfully* “Totally unfamiliar. This is my first time using it.”

Me:
*Laughing* “Well, that’s okay; it is designed to be pretty user-friendly. It mimics a lot of the reporting functions of [Common Database Program], if you’ve used that.”

Coworker:
“Nope!”

Me:
“That’s okay. So, first, let’s open up the report.”

My coworker opens the program, then pauses.

Coworker:
“Um, where is the report?”

Me:
“It will be under [Folder] in the Report tab.”

I walk her through opening up the report and go through the various columns in it, explaining where the data for them came from. The entire time, she is cheerful and attentive and seems to be following along easily.

Me:
“All right, so, this last column is a bit tricky, because I had to manually code it rather than relying on what [Program] has available. It pulls from–”

Coworker:
“Don’t condescend to me.”

Me:
*A bit startled* “Uh, sorry, I didn’t–”

Coworker:
“I’m a professional. You shouldn’t talk down to me.”

It was like a switch had been flipped. She went from cheerful to icily angry in an instant. There was nothing different about how or what I was explaining, as far as I could tell. I kept going, finishing up the explanation, and she ended up thanking me in the same cool tone. I went back to work, feeling slightly weirded out from the sudden tone shift.

I ended up getting called into my boss’s office a week or so later to be asked about it, because apparently, my coworker had complained to the boss about me trying to “foist off” my reports onto her. That really confused my boss, given that she was the one who’d assigned my coworker to take care of that report in the first place.

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Unfiltered Story #185644

, , , | Unfiltered | February 9, 2020

I am a taxi driver. I had a passenger who seems to be in hurry. He is running towards my cab.

Passenger : Please take me to Balboa Ave.
**I did not move. We are in Balboa Ave.
Passenger : Didn’t you f****** hear me?! Take me to Balboa Ave!
Me : We are in Balboa Ave. sir.
Passenger : Oh, please take me to [Corporate Office]
**Again, I did not move. We are in front of the Corporate Office that he wants to go to.
Passenger : F*** you! I am in a hurry! Take me to [Corporate Office] right now!
Me : Sir please look at your right side

**he sees the office and with a red face he left my cab without thanks.

That Motherly Love Isn’t What It Used To Be

, , , , , | Related | February 2, 2020

(My wife and I have eaten some old MREs — meal, ready to eat — for dinner, and we’re feeling a little off. Later, I tell my eighty-five-year-old mother about it on the phone.)

Me: “We ate some seven-year-old army rations for dinner, and now we don’t feel too good.”

Mother: “Don’t eat those; they’ll make you sick! You should give them to homeless people!”

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Unfiltered Story #182271

, , , , | Unfiltered | January 13, 2020

(I worked at a local community college bookstore a few years ago. During a work day on first week of the new semester at the local college’s bookstore, I noticed a rather heavyset bearded customer who appeared to be in his mid-20’s sitting in the aisle copying problems from a math textbook. I did not have the authority to tell the customer to cease his activity, so I continued my other duties. About an hour later, the customer was still sitting in the same area copying problems from the textbook. Another co-worker asked me if I noticed the customer, and I said that I did, but I did not have the authority to tell him to stop, so we agreed to get our supervisor to deal with the customer. I expected an argument to unfold, but never did I expect this:)

Supervisor (walks up to customer): “Excuse me, sir, but this is not a library.”
Customer: “I’m just copying down the problems from the book and I will do this at home. I cannot afford the book.”
Supervisor: “You have to buy the book. This is not a library.”
(customer starts to literally FREAK OUT)
Customer: “I WILL FAIL MY CLASS BECAUSE OF YOU! I WILL DROP OUT THE CLASS BECAUSE OF YOU!”
Supervisor (remaining calm): “You still have to buy the book.”
(The customer starts throwing a tantrum at this point)
Customer (getting on his knees and pounding the floor with his fists): “YOU ARE A MONSTER!!!” *sob sob*
Supervisor: “I am sorry, but this is not a library.”
Customer: “I WAS ONLY GOING TO COPY THE PROBLEMS AND DO THEM AT HOME!!!”

The customer then runs out of the store, huffing and puffing and sobbing.